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#seriously I always need more bev and will
eldritch-ace · 19 days
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I need more bestie Will and Bev content so I make it myself. They are the only cool people to ever exist in the FBI.
Also the Fred(dies) whom I despise (I love them with my whole heart). They are my favorite AO3 authors.
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birdblorbo · 1 year
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Loser’s Club as Very Specific Sensory Issues because I have Sensory Issue’s
Also known as me heavily projecting onto my comfort characters. Also brief Stenbrough cause I love them.
Long Post
Bill: Loud noises. For obvious reasons Bill hates storms so the rain and especially thunder tip him off, but anything resembling thunder can also freak him out. For example loud music with a lot of drumming (I was in marching band for years and drumline alone would probably give him a panic attack. I hate drumline). He doesn’t like concerts or movies in theaters because of how strong the sounds are without him being able to control it. Headphones are ok because he can lower it when he chooses, though he prefers to just mute out any sound with ear plugs rather than mute out outside sounds with music unless the drumming in the song is very light and slow. If he can’t do either he likes to lay his head on Stan’s chest or just another loser if Stan’s not around so he can hear their heartbeat. The steadiness helps calm him down while reassuring him they are alive and well. 
Stan: Being touched. There are very few exceptions where Stan is comfortable with touch and he is more comfortable with certain losers touching him over others. He is most comfortable with Bill least comfortable with Richie. (Full scale: Bill, Mike, Ben, Bev, Eddie, Richie) Richie calls it favoritism but its mostly on a scale of movement. Bill is very stable with Stan, making sure to limit his movements. Also he has been helping Stan become more comfortable with casual affection as Bill is very affectionate. Going along with the previous when Bill lays on him it is a comfort for both as Bill can hold onto him while Stan is on the outside able to push him off if needed rather than feeling surrounded. Ben and Mike are just very stable on their own. Beverly is in the middle, she can be still if needed but prefers not to. While Eddie and Richie on the other hand can’t sit still to save their lives and the sudden and relentless movements freak Stan out. When hugging someone his arms have to be the one on the outside, if they are on the inside he feels trapped.
Chewing Noises. He can’t stand any sort of chewing noises and has to stop eating if he can hear himself or someone else chewing. He immediately loses his appetite at the sound no matter if he is in the middle of eating or is about to eat. Saliva in general also grosses him out. For example if a dog drools on him or is excessively drooling in general he loses his appetite as well.
Eddie: Food textures. Eddie is not a picky eater taste wise but the texture could completely make or break it. He hates jello. He refuses to even touch it with his finger. Also he hates excessive oil. If he can feel the oil on his fingers after touching it, then it’s too much. (You know those frosting that leave a film on your tongue? Yeah I hate those and so does he). If he doesn’t like the texture of a food he will completely refuse to eat it.
Richie: Too tight or too loose shoes. He is constantly tying and untying his shoes as they are never perfect. Also it’s a nervous habit. He mostly despises too tight of shoes but fears if they aren’t tight they will fall off when he runs so he is always trying to find the balance between the two. This also applies to button ups. He always leaves them unbuttoned because he fiddles with the top button if it’s fully done up. On the occasion he has to dress nice he hates the top button. When it’s undone it feel too loose and rubs at his skin, but if it’s buttoned it feels like it’s choking him.
Beverly: Fabrics. She hates anything knitted, (Seriously knitted clothing and blankets feel horrible and I will die on this hill. I also can’t stand the feeling of jeans so I’m choosing to ignore her overalls). She exclusively wears faux denim as real denim makes her itch. She both hates and loves dresses. She hates them because of the objectification when she wears them but loves them because there is less fabric touching her and if it does it is very brief so as long as the top is comfortable she doesn’t have to worry about the bottom.
Ben: Tight clothing. He can’t stand the feeling of restriction tight clothes cause, especially on his legs. He hates the way pants tighten on his thighs when he bends his knees thus wears either very loose thin pants or shorts. (There’s this pair of pants I own that never tighten on my thighs no matter how I sit and I love them) He also cannot stand long socks, they squeeze his calfs too much. 
Mike: Smoke. Any bit of smoke makes him cough and along with that sometimes strong smells do too, like a really strong candle. He hates cities because of the amount of cigarette smoke and if he sees someone smoking he holds his breathe until they pass or he passes them. He cannot sit close to the fire and especially cannot sit in the direction the smoke is blowing.
Can you tell I project myself onto Stan highly? 
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scover-va · 6 months
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I need to know more about Michael's mom... Is she a cool mom?
SHE IS A VERY COOL MOM janet afton you will always be famous. to me
Im taking this as a chance to finally ramble abt her anyways so Janet's core inspo when designing her was to avoid 2 key things. Don't make her like Immortal & Th Restless's Clara (due to clara representing michael, not mrs afton, so i wanted to avoid that), and don't base her too heavily off of Ballora. I still have ties to Ballora's character (a music-based theme, blue-centric colour palette, im sure there were more basic ideas but everything else is more hc than themes to keep up) due to my hc thingy of each Funtime having ties to William's wife + kids, but yknow.
But yeah. Funky lady who played bass guitar + did backup vocals in a band during her high school and college years. Literally her and William dating can be summed up by "Seriously, what do you see in that guy?!" "He makes me laugh." bc she was and is WAY out of his goddamn league. Not just bc of the whole serial killer thing he was just an even bigger loser in college. Normal people dont develop a crush on a woman after she nearly breaks your nose and makes you bleed, William /j
But yeah uhh. I also dont like the idea of her being absent or neglectful purely because I got way too attached to her (i was originally gonna do that just to make things easy for myself but. Pretty lady,,, I am a very simple lesbian what can i say) so like. She obviously wasnt the greatest, most fantastic mom to ever exist given she was kinda maybe sorta well aware William was making some weird fucking clowns, but like. Hey. She tried. Also side note my reasoning for her being absent during the whole. Yknow. '83 event (and just evan's bday in general) is bc Evan + Elizabeth are twins and Elizabeth demanded a girls-only trip for her bday, and Janet promised Evan she'd do something just as special for him when she got back. That never happened bc he died lmao loser /j
But yeah uhh. Shes got a lot of regrets. Wishes she coulda done a lot of things better. Kinda dies with those regrets. Ive seen people say that one of fnaf's charms is that no character is 100% good and i LOVE that, and wanted to keep it up with Janet. Good mom and overall a good person, however made some bad decisions along the way and whatnot.
Im still working out specifics (ive been slowly working on a lil private fic abt her and william meeting + their early relationship) but uhhh. Minor notes that dont get their own paragraphs is that William sampled her voice for Ballora so yay easy voice claim, she had an on and off relationship with her band's lead singer (her name's Bev), her birth name is actually Janice Schmidt but if you call her Janice she'll knock at least 2 of ur teeth out, she's a runaway teen and got adopted by this older couple bc her home life kinda sucked (idk specifics yet), and also girlie has an extensive criminal record of minor angsty teen type charges. Also teen Mike dying his hair and then 2020's Michael's hairstyle are both kinda references to Janet's hair because he wnated to look less like his father. Thats all ty. No read more bc you WILL look at my mrs afton post, boy /j
Actually no theres more that im remembering as i write the tags and edit a few details. Back to her and William because god im insane about them. So for starters it. Well i was gonna say Janet was def the first to flirt but i think William definitely developed a crush first and they only kept talking bc of said crush so its kinda up for debate. Anyways yeah at first it was a HUGE sorta like "Well he's funny especially when I fluster him so this can be just a fun lil thing" but because they chatted more they def kinda like. Clicked more. William was a huge fan of listening to her music (from. a distance. he looked kinda like a creep but at least janet only misinterpreted it once) but like *specifically* janet he didnt give a fucking shit abt the rest of the band. Uhh. They had their first run-in and janet kinda. Well. Punched him in the nose before he cleared up that he is NOT a pervert or anything weird like that (bc a guy that looks older than he is staring from a distance when there is a clear crowd he could join kinda gave janet the Wrong idea), then they later bumped into each other in the hall and chatted for a bit, then they kinda just kept "accidentally" running into one another. Uhhh. Some cigaerette-themed flirting and a house party later, yay dating :] can you tell where the current cut-off of the fic is /j Also idk how to put this down properly but they are both runaways and can kinda. Get that vibe from one another. Literally Michael is like some fucked up abomination of the both of them between the troubled past + weird situationship thing + runaway stuff + a lot of minor details that arent important rn. I just. Yeah Janet means the world to me go thru her tag on my blog for some art. Not all of my janet art is posted but the non-posted stuff is all concept work/doodles or just. Shit im too embarrassed to post lmao. Anyways NOW im done ty for reading
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excessive-vampires · 1 month
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Dealing With Demons Chapter 6: Sad as Hell Part 2: Cee
Masterlist with CW
Taglist: @demyxdancer @softvampirewhump @d-cs
This playlist is really good. And by that I mean sad as hell.
Avi put down their book for a second. "We could listen to something else."
No, sometimes you need to feel sad.
"That's the least in-character thing I've ever heard you say."
If you don't feel down sometimes you get numb to the highs. And it's better to be sad about music than about something that actually happened.
"Hmm." They didn't pick the book back up and for a moment we just listened to the song. "This makes me glad I'm not alone right now."
Me too.
"You're still worried about Cliff, aren't you?"
What if he comes after us?
"I doubt he has the means to. And if he does then I'll kill him. I am very powerful and scary."
I wished they'd take this more seriously. Yes. Yes you are. But between him and the Bureau... we might need to... take a vacation somewhere far away.
"Once a runner always a runner, huh?"
That's a low blow.
"Only if it's true. Look, if I'm wrong and we get into some sort of trouble I'll make it up to you. But I don't think I'm wrong."
Okay. I trust you to know your own strength.
"Good. Glad that's settled."
They picked the book back up, but I didn't pay any attention to it, instead focussing on the sad, forsaken voices coming from their phone's speakers.
Then we heard something that chilled me to the bone. It was my phone's ringtone. Avi stopped the music, walked over to the bedroom, and unlocked the drawer in the nightstand. There hadn't been much I'd had the desire or the right to take with me when I left besides some of my clothes, so my collection of personal worldly possessions was pathetically small. But there was a little box of sentimental trinkets in the drawer, as well as a framed picture. And beside that there was a phone that Avi kept charged at my request. They took it out of the drawer and we looked at the message.
When I gave my sister my new phone number before I left I knew it was probably a bad idea. But I also knew I could trust her not to tell anyone, and what if there was some huge emergency involving me that she needed to let me know about? She hadn't tried to contact me once in five years. That was something I had mixed feelings about. I stared at the words on the screen.
"Aunt Bev is sick again. If you care."
"Hey, are you—"
Block me out.
"Cee—"
Block me out, Avi. Wake me up in the morning.
"Okay."
And then the world went away. It was like being half-asleep unless I focussed, and I didn't want to focus. I just let myself drift.
My mind floated back to the scene immortalized in the picture frame next to where my phone had been. My young smiling face, Bev's tattooed arm around my shoulders, a plate of christmas cookies stolen from the kitchen in the background.
I knew that Avi would take me to go see her and let me say goodbye if I asked. I wasn't going to ask. I couldn't. I made my choice a long time ago and burned every single bridge I had in the process.
But out of everyone, Bev was the only one I'd almost said goodbye to in person when I left. I knew I'd outlive her, hell I'd outlive everyone now barring outside intervention, I didn't age while possessed. I thought I was ready. I thought I'd already let everything from that life go.
I was wrong.
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lesbienbys · 1 year
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tacit chapter 66 discussion, spoilers obviously! Also I don't know if this needs a warning or not but just in case, I am gay so I will read certain characters as lgbt and if you don't like that then maybe this isn't the blog for you <3
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So here are my thoughts about this scene because these two make me go insane. I think it's pretty fair to assume that we know bevrian is lying to rovan here, because it doesn't make sense to bev's character (who we know wants to protect the kids). And I'm just so confused as to why he lies and keeps lying to him. Like wtf is rovan going to do if he says no?? Explode??? Bestie he can handle it he's a grown ass man! And I think rovan's reaction to bev saying this is him realizing he's lying. I don't know if this is the first time he's realized or if he's known since the beginning, since this webtoon relies more on expressions/body language than dialogue to tell its story (which I love 99% of the time but UGH I want to know).
There's just been this undertone to these two (not the gay one) where it feels like rovan doesn't communicate his plans which makes him seem distrustful, and bevrian who seems to be lying to him for some reason. My theory is that he doesn't want him to leave because he wants ruby and arvan to survive, and maybe also because he feels bad about abandoning him back when he was ousted from amina. Which is like come on man I've been waiting for bev to pop off for so long now because rovan treats arvan so cruelly, and then he says this shit and I'm like BRO seriously 😭 communicate your actual feelings I am begging! If something happens to arvan because of them treating him like shit I'm blaming the both of them. He's already fucked up mentally from all this so if he dies,,,,,,,,,,,
Total tonal shift because I'm like that, but was I the only one who felt so weirded out that these two were so close to each other during this entire conversation lmao?? If you took the entire dialogue away it feels like they're going to kiss. But the topic of the conversation is so morbid so I'm just like... this feels so inappropriate babes!! Why are your sides touching and your faces two inches apart from each other!!! Like I love you two but this is not the time maybe 😭 Plus the way the author draws their expressions doesn't help because they constantly look at each other Like That which is why I've been shipping them since chapter 28.
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(I need someone to validate me because I can't be the only one who thought about this parallel and went crazy.)
Anyways can't wait for the next chapter where everything goes to shit once again! Love this series for always making me anxious about who's going to die haha <3
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hyperionshipping · 1 year
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Babe quick what do all ur parental f/os think about me
I'm going to answer this as if you don't have a s/i in that world as it would change certain aspects ok? But if you want that I'll rb and add to this
---
Matt Murdock
Matt would be weary of you at the start. He can be a bit overprotective of me, and granted, him being Daredevil I do have a small target on my back, but he would NEVER be rude to you when I first introduce you two.
Dad can be pretty good at telling people's characters, and, he doesn't need to follow you around to tell I care about you.
He'd invite you over once or twice and always apologizes for the small apartment. New York, what can you exepct?
I can see him being one of the first of my dads to pull you aside and be like, "treat him right. Or I'll find you." Matt can be pretty intimidating!
Bobby Singer
Bobby thinks you're swell. He's happy I have someone that isn't a Winchester boy and that you're normal. Not hunter, or secretly a demon, just a regular guy off the street.
Seriously. Bobby would love you Bev. Bobby loves you enough that he would all but adopt you too.
Know when people are together, they'll call their partners parents mom or dad too? Bobby refers to you as son, and says you're family 'cause I love you so much.
Bobby would never have an issue with you over. If anything he nags me to ask when "That Beverly boy o'yours is coming back for supper."
Hannibal Lecter
Well! Of course Hannibal is so happy I made a friend! And one who is so polite. He'd tell you he's so happy I have someone who cares about me that isn't just himself. You know, friends are very important. And I can't always depend on him (though Hannibal would never leave me).
He'd invite you over for supper! I'd cook the meal for us all, and Hannibal would be so nice in giving us space while also offering to bring us places.
I think he'd like your last name too. Says it fits you well.
The 11th Doctor
Doctor dad #1, who DOESN'T he like! (Ok wellll. He doesn't like everyone but he'd love you).
The Doctor would be delighted to meet a friend of mine. He didn't know demons had friends. He doesn't mean how that sounds. He just had prior knowledge. And well, I am only half demon.
Beverly, he would be so over-the-top about like being welcoming and nice to you and inviting you on the Tardis and "do you guys want to go anywhere? Name a place I'll take us there!"
He would always, always remember you. The Doctor never forgets any of his companions. He'd consider you one
Dr. House
Doctor Dad #2, he doesn't...well-- okay. House doesn't hate you, specifically. He hates everyone an equal amount! And sometimes more. He'd hate you a little less, though.
House is very dry, and sarcastic, and an ass. I wouldn't put it past you to think he hates you at first, but, he doesn't! Probably!
It can be hard to tell but I'd promise you that House tolerates you which, hey! That's better than most people
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trashmouth-padfoot · 1 year
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Richie never really understood Eddie’s germaphobe habits, but he never made a fuss about it, always supportive, jokingly or seriously. He didn’t realize just how supportive he was being until he accidentally picked up a few habits from the germaphobe, and found himself freaking out over getting tetanus after accidentally cutting himself on the rusted edge of an arcade game.
His first thought was how the fuck did the stupid game get exposed to water to the point it rusted over, and his second thought was his immediate peril. He stared at his bleeding hand for a few moments before darting to Bev and Ben, who were currently playing PAC-MAN together.
“Guys. Guys. Guys.”
“What?”
“I cut my hand.” This brought forth Ben’s attention.
“On what man? We’re in an arcade.”
“I know! The game was rusted. I’m gonna get tetanus.”
“Richie, you sound like Eddie.” Richie’s mouth opened and then shut, turning on Bev. Bev didn’t even look at him. “And you’ll be fine man. After what happened with ole clown boy I think our immune systems are invincible.” Richie wasn’t convinced by this information, scanning the arcade and rushing up to Eddie and Stanley, who were sat on a bench and clearly didn’t care for arcade games.
“Spaghetti, I cut my hand,” Richie informed instantly, and Eddie stood fast, hand already on the zipper of his Fanny pack. Richie caught Stan’s eyes roll at Eddie’s quickness, but ignored it.
“On what?” Eddie asked as he unzipped his pack.
“Rusty corner of an arcade game,” Richie admitted, watching Eddie scowl in disgust before taking Richie’s hand in his. Richie flushed red at the contact, but was quickly diverted from this by a searing pain shooting through his hand; Eddie had poured a little hydrogen peroxide on the wound.
“Holy shit, Eds!” Richie blurted.
“You’re fine!” Eddie returned, pulling out a little tube of antibacterial cream, lathering some onto his finger and gently coating Richie’s cut. Richie bit on his lip, the flush returning at how gentle Eddie was now treating him. Eddie wrapped his hand softly, gentle with the brunet.
Eddie then scowled at the feel of the thick cream, and Richie didn’t think before grabbing Eddie’s hand and wiping the finger on his own shorts.
“Ew, Rich, now your shorts are dirty,” Eddie complained, and Richie shrugged, grinning.
“Not as Dirty As they’re gonna be tonight,” Richie joked, and Eddie shoved him in the chest.
“Beep beep, Rich.” Richie giggled a little before glancing over his hand.
“Thanks Eddie.” Eddie gave a smile and nodded.
“Kiss already damn,” Bev complained, elbowing Richie. Richie turned a bright shade of red, turning on Bev.
“Ew, gross, Bev,” Eddie said, and Richie felt like a bus just ran over his internal organs. Multiple eyes flashed to Richie as Eddie looked down to reorganize his items in his Fanny pack.
Richie recovered quickly.
“Chip chip and cheerio, mates, lets get this show on the road,” Richie covered, forcing some British accent and tugging his friends out of the arcade. “We have places to see, adventures to have!”
“Richie, chill,” Ben laughed, but Stanley elbowed him, wanting Richie to cope in the only way he knew how to. Stan didn’t really think it was healthy to pretend to be someone else whenever something went wrong, but it’s how Richie dealt, and Stanley wasn’t going to stop that by any means.
“You’re a dork,” Bev laughed. Richie forced a grin, climbing on his bike.
“We need to wait for M-Mike, he said he’d m-m-meet us at the arcade,” Bill interrupted, sitting on a bench. Richie blinked at Bill as if asking if he was being serious.
“Me mum wants me home,” Richie lied, accent shifting to more Scottish than British. Stanley knew it was a lie, and Eddie knew it was a lie.
“Bullshit, your mom yelled at you to stay out of the house until after the lights came on if you were gonna act that way,” Eddie said, and Richie gave Eddie a look, pursing his lips.
Richie leaned back on his bike seat, not responding. It was uncomfortable.
“Alright then. I say we go to the library after Mike gets here.”
“No one wants to go to the fucking library, Ben,” Eddie said, squinting. Ben raised his hands in defense. Richie picked absently at his bike handle, not at all focused on his surroundings.
“The library is cool, I need to catch up on my summer project for my honors class anyways,” Stan sighed, and Eddie turned on him.
“Staaaan. Seriously?”
“Yep.”
Eddie thought he was going to keel over and die. This was horrid. Sitting here and watching Stan and Ben do their little research projects while Mike and Bill were huddled around some book was tragic.
After about half an hour of playing paper football with a makeshift goal he made with pencils, he grew bored again, standing and deciding he was going to search for Richie. The bespectacled teen had disappeared not even five minutes into the library visit.
He was about to call for him before remembering the library, and the fact they were very much not alone.
About two minutes later, he found Richie in the kids section, running his fingers along the spines of books.
“I’m bored,” Eddie said, crossing his arms. Richie spared him a glance before looking back at the books. Eddie squinted a bit. “Did I do something?” Richie turned, shaking his head.
“Nah. Nah. And me too, dude,” Richie covered quickly, but Eddie wasn’t stupid. He let Richie talk in some stupid voice as they walked, recapping the recent events.
Then it clicked. Eddie stopped, and Richie walked for a moment before stopping.
“Eds?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eddie asked and Richie’s eyes blew wide. His face turned all shades of red.
“Uh- wha-what are you talking about?”
“You’re upset because I said it would be gross for us to kiss. Do you want me to?” Richie and Eddie stared at each other. Richie turned his chin into his shoulder.
“Not if you think it’s gross,” Richie mumbled, staring at some random title.
“Rich I didn’t-” Richie shook his head, gnawing on his bottom lip.
“You don’t have to pretend to want to kiss me to make-" Eddie shoved Richie up against a wall of books, shoving his lips against Richie’s. Richie stiffened, eyes wide. Eddie tugged away.
“I’m not fucking pretending,” Eddie snarked, “now, are you going to kiss me back or keep sulking in the kids section of the library?” Richie flushed bright red, but when Eddie pressed his lips on Richie’s, he kissed back this time, tilting his head a little.
“No fucking way you two are doing this in a library,” Bev said, and Eddie didn’t yank away like Richie thought he would. Eddie pulled back, rolling his eyes at Bev.
“Don’t complain you told us to kiss,” Eddie said, wiping wetness off his lips as he released Richie. Richie was flushed bright red as he used the edge of his shirt to dry his mouth.
“Oh whatever, Eds,” Bev laughed and Eddie glanced at Richie, who seemed still starstruck by the previous events. “You broke him, Eddie.”
“Beverly,” Eddie complained, waving her off. Bev snickered and raised her hands in defense before walking off.
Eddie turned to Richie, who’s face now seemed unsure, and anxious.
“Eddie, did- did you just kiss me to shut me up?” Eddie stared. “Or- or like- get me to stop being upset?”
“I said gross because I thought you’d think it was gross,” Eddie said, and Richie shook his head a little. “Kiss me. You Kiss me this time.” Richie stared, seemingly excited to be able to kiss Eddie again.
“Are- Are you sure?” Eddie nodded, watching Richie freak out a little bit. Richie forced himself not to hop in place slightly at the concept before hesitantly sliding his hands to rest on Eddie’s hip, pulling the shorter closer. Eddie closed his eyes and Richie huffed out an anxious breath before latching his lips onto Eddie’s, eyes clenching.
Eddie still led him, hand reaching to frame Richie’s chin, tilting him a certain way. Richie melted into it.
“I think we should stop,” Eddie heaved as he pulled away, thumb rubbing against Richie’s cheek as he stared, clearly not wanting to himself.
“Why,” Richie nearly whined, pushing to kiss him again. Eddie pulled away.
“Because we live in Derry, Maine, Rich.” Richie weighed this in his head as Eddie corrected his appearance. He nearly jumped as Richie placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.
“So?”
“So, we live in a very unsafe place for us to be doing this in public,” Eddie said, raising his brows. Richie sighed, hanging his head to the side.
“So?”
“Beep beep Richie.”
“I didn’t even do anything!”
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a ship for It please, any media 🥰 im a bisexual girl, pretty tall, brown eyes, blond hair, i'm a little chubby, and have a lot of freckles. I love to go for hikes and picnics, I have two dogs, Bailey, a 6 years old golden retriever, and Tofu, a 9 months old german shepherd, they are my babies haha I love to play chess and I love to watch football. I love kids and would love to have a few some day 🫶 I work in retail, which is not always fun, but I love people and the ones who shop where I work are mostly lovely. I am very friendly and I love to have a good time. Thank you!
oh man girly i have to ship you with stan the man, whatever media, i feel like you're made for each other lol going on hikes and he gets to birdwatch???? 10/10
he loooooves your dogs omg bailey and tofu??????? they sound so sweet 😭 i feel like he would be reluctant at first, i mean, 2 dogs?? he didn't grow up around dogs so he doesn't know what to expect, but they love him and he loves them and they become best pals 5 seconds afrer meeting
you would play chess at least 4 or 5 times a week for fun, but definitely more whenever you decide to use chess as a way to get out of chores (the loser does laundry, or the dishes, or whatever lol)
you make it a tradition to have a football game every few month with the losers and their partners, and depending on the game, you either take it wayyyy to seriously, or just end up hanging out, not really playing, just tossing the ball around for fun
you would get really close to the other losers, i think maybe bev and bill would be the ones you get along with the most, but you love them all and they all love you as well
you probably would be the first ones to have kids in your friend group, maybe closely followed by bev and ben. but no matter what, the losers are always there to help and babysit and whatever else might be needed, and you do the same whenever/if they have kids themselves. Your kids would probably love Richie as a babysitter the most, which would lowkey infuriate stan, but you know it's an act and he's actually really happy that his kids love his best friend like he does, warms his heart lol
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jaylaxies · 2 years
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just here to add to the jay sugar daddy agenda
bev cart y/n and obviously rich golf player jay. he would always come to the field to swing his club on the days you were working. He would do this on purpose to see your cute face. He would comment or stare at you during random times and chuckle at your flustering face. When you eventually develop a huge crush on him you start to wear more revealing things around him, like tank tops that slightly showed your cleavage, skirts that exposed the bottom part of your ass, or shorts that squeezed your thighs to make them look pretty. Jay would soon get the guts to ask you out on a date after your shift. When both of you sat down in the restaurant to eat you noticed he had this look in his eyes. A look of desire, want, and lust.
-🕯anon
ps. IM GLAD YOU LIKED THE HEE PILOT SMUT 😭😭 I tried making it really detailed bc i’m dirty like that, but seriously thank you for the compliment i really appreciate it 🥲❤️
then he'd tease you under the table just to fluster you and even tho it's very unlikely that he'd drop anything, he drops his fork on purpose just to bend down and touch your thigh to give a clear indication of his intentions.
rest of the dinner would be agonizingly slow and like a staredown between you two, the tension evident in the air before he asks you to come home with him and his hand doesn't move from your thigh during the entire duration of your drive back to his place.
he pins you against the wall as soon as you enter his penthouse, kissing you fervently while your hands are already on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. his impatience was a sight to see, he didn't even bother taking your top off as he removed your shorts and panties in a go.
he hurriedly asked if you wanted this, to which you said yes. his dick was in you not even a second later, thrusting with need as you held on his shoulders for support while your back rested against the wall.
seems like you'll be staying in for the night 😔☝🏼
ALSO YES, it was so nice, i really enjoyed reading it omg <333 i loved the details‼️
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Text
Country Club AU
i lived biiiiiiiitch 🤣 kinda, but i have more time to write now that i have my shit a little more together! here is an au i defs didn’t dream up while driving the bev cart last week 👀
Warnings: alcohol use? golf? flirting? its pretty chill
__________________
Jaskier gets a job as a bartender  at the local country club to pay his way through Oxenfurt. He has all the charm and people skills and not the best bar skills but luckily most of the members want simple drinks.
He covers a shift as the beverage cart driver one day because Essie is sick and fucking *loves it*
Putting around the course and flirting with everyone while pouring drinks and getting a tan???? Yes please???
He is the ladies night favorite. He’s a flatterer and a gossip and they all fucking adore him. They request him for retirement parties and bridge nights and tournaments and tip him *heavily*.
Geralt is a newer member and only joined because his law firm has weekly ‘strategy meetings’ out on the course. Turns out he really likes golf and picked it up quickly so he’s out there all the fucking time.
He takes his game very seriously. Like stupid serious. They boy is so fuckin precise and competitive and he gets teased endlessly for it. 
Guy’s night usually ends with him gritting his teeth so hard Jaskier is sure his jaw would crack if he were a mere mortal.
Jaskier has been eying him for weeks but he never drinks unless someone else orders it for him, and even then he only sips to be polite so Jask has never had the excuse to chat him up.
He may be a flirt but he isn’t a nuisance
He finally gest his chance on a men’s day when Geralt is out with his work buddies.
On hole 6 Geralt fuckin *bombs* it. Full on snowman (8 strokes) on a par 3 and he’s furious. 
When Jaskier swings around at the next tee he orders two shots of fireball and Jaskier’s eyes light up
Im talking ‘yessssssss the calm one is about to go apeshit and im so fucking ready’ kind of sparkle
The next time Jaskier sees him he’s on hole 11 and much looser. His game hasn’t improved but hes having a better time and winks when Jaskier hands him his Jack and coke. 
Ohhhhhh boy Jask is absolutely fucked. He just kinda stood there absolutely stunned while Geralt walked away. 
It’s official. Geralt is his white whale. He must fluster this beautiful beautiful man if only to prove to himself that he isn’t completely weak for him. (logical? No. Fun and distracting? yes.)
He sees them one more time on his route and Geralt buys everyone a round and tells Jaskier to charge him for a shot for himself once he’s off work with another wink and the poor boy squeaks. 
Geralt doesn’t show for guy’s night the next week and Jaskier is totally not upset about it and he totally *didn’t* wear his sluttiest pair of golf shorts that made his ass look extra perky. Nope not at all. 
Essie gives him shit but gladly trades her cart shifts for his indoor shifts
When Geralt comes back he very sheepishly gets his beer and nods at Jaskier before joining his group. 
Well that just wont fucking do
Jask intentionally makes Geralt’s drink last next time the group mobs the bev cart (bc thats what golfers do my friends). The whole time he’s mixing it he’s trying to think of a way to hit on him that isn’t just ‘fuck you’re so hot’
He comes up with “Don’t be a stranger” and a wink
And it makes Geralt *blush* and Jask is so proud of himself he almost drives right into one of his buddies’ carts. (and giddy. He’s very giddy)
The next time Geralt sees him he gets everyone’s order before he jogs across the fairway so its just him hanging around the cart and Jask is trying really hard not to read into it. 
Jaskier learns Geralt’s favorite drink and makes sure he always has it on the cart
Always
Geralt starts hanging out up at the bar a little more when Jask has his inside shifts and the rest of the staff now has a bet on how long it will take them to get together.
They have a glow ball tournament (night time with glow in the dark golf and very little competitiveness) and Jaskier sluts it up as much as he can within dress code. Shorter shorts, shirt unbuttoned to just above his bellybutton, (“so they can all see the glowstick necklaces Essie. Jesus. They need to see where the drinks are”) and maybe he rolls up his sleeves while he pours drinks. 
Geralt is shook. Like shook shook. And he’s already had two drinks by the time they reach Jaskier’s stationed bar out on the course. 
Jaskier has his drink and a flirty one liner ready by the time he steps out of his cart and Geralt just blue screens
His team mates roll their eyes and quite literally shove him back towards Jask when he flees, absolutely terrified. 
Jask, desperately trying to keep his cool, asks if there's something wrong with his drink and Geralt just kinda sighs and knocks it back and goes "no I'm just a fucking coward" before he kisses him
Jaskier doesn't give him even an instant to regret it and leans the fuck in. Like. Homie goes for it. Full body pressed up against him, arms wrapped around his neck and ribs, little breathy moans, the whole nine yards. 
Geralt’s buddies start howling and whistling before they makeout so long they up the tourney.
As he’s being scruffed and pulled away Geralt puts his number in Jaskier’s phone under Grlat and Jask refuses to change it, even after they’re married.
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flusteredloser · 3 years
Text
subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader
it fandom week: huddling for warmth
content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k
at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.
“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”
eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 
thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 
now, though, you still had one child left.
hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.
“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.
“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.
“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”
clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.
“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”
“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.
you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 
“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 
“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.
“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 
“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”
you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 
the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.
walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 
you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.
“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 
“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."
“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”
you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”
she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 
“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.
she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”
taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”
she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”
“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”
pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 
clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 
bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?
“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.
never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 
by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”
she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 
"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.
quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 
a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 
without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”
“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.
you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”
“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”
you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”
“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”
“aww-”
“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”
bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”
“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.
now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 
immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 
“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.
“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.
“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”
“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.
she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”
“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 
even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”
suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.
“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.
“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 
you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?
after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.
“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 
“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.
“no, no, no, do not do that again.”
bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”
“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.
bev moves about an inch closer. 
you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.
“are- are you... you want me to-”
you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”
“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  
“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 
having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 
bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.
“stop that before i regret this, bev.”
“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”
you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.
“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.
that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 
after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 
you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.
just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.
wait. the window? 
your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 
snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.
instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.
“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”
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darling-i-read-it · 3 years
Text
Jealousy
Will Graham x reader, slight Hannibal Lecter x reader
Word Count: 2.2k 
Warnings: talks of murder, corpses, crime scenes 
Author’s Note: besties you need to stop giving me freedom to chose the endings because i am SO biased. I hope you all enjoy regardless and didn’t mind that I bunched these two requests together because they’re so similar! 
Requested: by anon, Hey i don’t know if you’re still taking Hannibal requests but if you are can you do something where both Will and Hannibal have a crush on the reader? The reader would be the only one who doesn’t know about the two men having a crush on her and one day the reader hangs out alone with one of them (could be Will or Hannibal) and the other gets jealous? It could end in the reader choosing one of them. (your choice)
Requested: by anon, AHHH i’m so nervous to write a request even tho this a anon😅 I never done a request but if you could do something where both Hannibal and Will take an interest in the reader? It could just be a thing where both of them try to impress the reader who remains oblivious to their affections. And during the entire thing they get jealous of each other and try to one up each other in gifts. If you want you could end it with them being polyamorous or the reader choosing one of them, i don’t really care my main focus id just the jealousy lol😅
Summary: the requests! 
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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You nodded gently, putting your fingernail between your teeth. You circled the corpse, giving it a careful eye as Beverly spoke over your thoughts. 
“We believe it was murder, obviously,” she said. 
“It’s just been a bitch trying to figure out how she was murdered,” Zeller commented. He was sitting on one of the stools, his hands resting on his thighs. 
“Keep working on it,” Jack said, hand resting on the cold metal table. 
“I think we should try and talk to the mom again. I feel like she knows more than she’s letting on,” you muttered. Will and Hannibal watched you as you moved to the head of the body, looking directly down at it. 
“I want to go to the crime scene again,” Will said. You looked up and met his eyes, nodding a bit. You knew the toll that it took on him so you preferred him to offer up his abilities, rather than ask him. 
“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Hannibal asked. Yours and Will’s eyes floated to Hannibal who was standing at the corner of the room. This wasn’t his crime, he wasn’t sure what Will would find. 
“I’m sure,” Will said sturtly and then turned around, walking out of the room. Hannibal watched as your gaze followed Will until he was out of sight and then you turned back to the corpse. 
“I’ll drive you to the mothers house,” Hannibal suggested. You nodded and took your hands off the metal, walking over to him.
“Thank you.” 
The two of you left quickly after that, leaving Bev, Zeller, Price and Jack in the room alone. Beverly pretended to check something on her clipboard before looking up at everyone.
“You all felt that tension too, right?” Overlapped responses came.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.” 
“When did that happen?” 
Beverly shrugged and learned against the wall. She tried to follow you and Hannibal as you left the morgue but you were already long gone.
“Who do you think she’s gonna pick?” Bev asked. 
“I say let the best man win!” Price commented. 
“We have a case here lady and gentlemen,” Jack said, pretending he too wasn’t invested. Everyone else shared one more look and then turned around, getting back to their duties. 
=====
Hannibal sat promptly in his chair, legs crossed and looking at Will who sat across from him. Will had an open stance as he looked around the room he had been in a couple of times before. 
“How was your week? Let’s start there,” Hannibal said gently, prompting Will to start talking. Will was usually filled to the brim with sarcastic comments but he never wanted to delve any deeper than that. Unless he was talking about other people's murders. 
“Um, it was fine,” he said, trying to figure out what to say. “Y/N came over last night and made dinner. It was nice to have someone over.” Hannibal was able to mask his feelings very well but Will caught a little bit of disdain. 
“That’s nice. Do you see her often?” 
“Sometimes. She’s nice and likes to see the dogs.” Hannibal saw you yesterday as well, when the two of you went to interview the mother again. Hannibal offered a nice face to the woman and it ended up getting you somewhere with her. 
“She is very kind,” Hannibal commented. 
“Do you see her often Dr. Lecter?” Will asked. 
“On occasion. She comes over for dinner. She used to be a patient but she’s been doing well.”
“Glad to hear you have some success stories.” 
That was the day that Will and Hannibal realized they were competing and they hadn’t known it. They weren’t even sure that you knew it but they understood that the other had feelings for you. 
Sure, ultimately it was up to you in the end but it was then they decided they would have to get to you first. Will was a little unhinged and confused. Hannibal was a little insane and unsettling. 
Just depended on who was going to be able to play the right cards. 
=====
You sat beside Hanniabl at his dinner table. You had a few of the case papers out in front of you, next to your plate of food. Hannibal was flipping through them as well. He was trying to help you out while also getting you to enjoy a nice meal. 
You ate the last bite of the food and showed Hannibal one of the pictures. 
“Do you think this looks like she’s been dead for a couple of months? I know water can wash away evidence and stuff but it definitely doesn’t look like she’s been dead for months,” you said. Hannibal took the picture from you and looked it over. 
“I can’t say I disagree with you.” You took the picture back.
“This is really good by the way. Thank you for letting me intrude on your dinner,” you said laughing a bit. He shook his head. 
“Of course. I’m glad you enjoy it, I know it can be an acquired taste.” 
“I really enjoy everything you make. How do you say it? It’s growing my pallet,” you said smiling. He nodded pleasantly. It was always nice to make sure people were listening. You looked like you were about to say something else when your phone dinged. At first you ignored it but then it dinged again. “I’m sorry,” you muttered and then picked up the phone. You read a couple of messages and laughter bubbled from your mouth. Hannibal immediately felt a stab of jealousy but it didn’t show on his face. “Sorry, Will just sent me something about the case. I actually have to go see him later tonight, I should probably get out of your hair.” 
Hannibal shook his head. 
“You’re always welcome here, I hope you know that.” You smiled and nodded but still put the papers together in a neat stack.
“Don’t say that, I’ll abuse my privileges.” You stood up and put the stack of papers in your arms. “Thank you again Hannibal. I’ll call you?” He nodded, standing up as well and taking your plate. 
“Of course. Have a nice night and say hello to Will for me.” You nodded and waved as you turned to leave. 
Hannibal turned to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. He started to wash them and after a moment he found he had been washing his hands dry. 
====
“You really didn’t have to drive me. I can drive myself,” Will said from the passenger seat of your car. You waved him off, shaking your head. 
“Please Will, I can drive you around all I want. Plus, I wanted to see Hannibal anyway. Don’t worry I won’t intrude on your session. I brought a book.” You held your book up in front of him and he nodded slightly. 
Why did you wanna see Hannibal? He decided not to ask. 
You got out of the car and followed Will inside to Hannibal’s office. Hannibal opened the door, as though he had been listening and waiting for your arrival. His smile grew at the sight of you. 
“I was hoping to run into you. I boxed some leftovers from last night because you enjoyed them so much,” Hannibal explained. 
“You went over to Hannibals’ last night?” Will asked. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so accusatory but it did. You shrugged.
“I went for dinner and he helped me with some case notes.” You remained completely oblivious to the tension in the room. He handed you a box that he grabbed from his desk and you nodded happily. “Thank you so much! I will cherish this,” you joked. You turned to Will. “Have a nice session boys, I’ll be in the car.” 
  They both nodded and waved goodbye to you as you left the room. The tension did not leave with you. 
====
The morgue did not smell any better the next time you were in it. You were alone with just Bev this time as you compared notes on the cause of death. She and the guys were still in the process of figuring it out but it had been a busy couple of days.
“Yeah that’s kind of what Price was saying. I don’t know, I’ll look into it more and get back to you,” she said as you showed her some notes. You nodded and put your notepad back in your bag. 
“Alright, keep me posted.” You stood up from your chair and stretched a bit. You and Beverly were pretty good friends outside of work as well so she had been dying to ask you about Hannibal and Will.
“So...how’s it going with Hannibal and Will?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. You gave her a confused look.
“Huh?” She scoffed.
“You’re kidding right?” You gave her a look and she laughed dryly. “You seriously don’t know? Those guys are head over heels for you. Come on, you had to have noticed how jealous they get when you talk to them. It literally fills the room with tension,” she explained. You shook your head slowly. It took you a moment but the realization hit you. You had to sit back down. 
“Oh my God, I’ve been so head first in this case I didn’t even notice,” you said, laughing a bit.
“Well! Who’s gonna take the cake? Come on, we’re running bets here in the morgue.” You raised an eyebrow.
“Who did you bet on?” She gave you a look. “Come on!” 
“Will,” she fessed up. You stood up. 
“Go get your money Katz.” A prideful look went over her face and she nodded. 
“Alright then. You better go get your man.” 
======
You knocked on Will’s door that night. You teetered back and forth on the porch, wondering if Beverly had been wrong. She could have read the signs wrong. Heck, you read the signs wrong at first. You were about to walk off the porch when Will opened the door, rubbing his eyes. 
“Hi,” he said, blinking quickly.
“Oh my gosh did I wake you? I’m sorry, I am running on case time,” you said, suddenly feeling very apologetic. He shook his head. 
“No, don’t worry about it. Do you need something?” You doubted yourself again but figured that if you were going to do it you had to do it now. 
“I just...Beverly said something and I...do you wanna go to dinner? Like together? Like as a couple?” You were trying to get the words out so they didn’t sound awkward. Will rubbed his eyes some more and then his hand dropped. He smirked a bit. 
“Yeah. I would really like that.” 
“Okay! Okay. Good, good. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow once you get some rest,” you said. He nodded happily. 
“I look forward to it.” 
“Me too.” 
You turned around and he shut the door and a wall away from each other. You were both smiling wildly. Will almost called Hannibal and bragged but he went to sleep. He would find out eventually. 
157 notes · View notes
Text
unwanted visitor*
pairing: max cady x fem!reader
summary: a good deed turns out to be the worst choice you could possibly make... maybe.
warnings: explicit language, slight dub con, fingering, choking, face slapping, predatory vibes, huuggeee age gap (but reader is of legal age), daddy kink
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When the last bell of the day rang, you were more than happy to pack your books into your bag and hurriedly get out from behind your desk. All of your frustrations washed away the minute the final bell rang throughout the school. You walked with a pep in your step down the hall and to the left where your locker was. Quickly putting in your combination, you unlocked the metal barrier and shoved your history textbook inside and huffed as you fixed your lopsided headband that kept your hairs away from your face.
“Y/N!” You heard your friends squeal your name as they ran to you, all laughing and talking at the same time.
“If you’re gonna ask me to go to the mall again, the answer is gonna be no,” you giggled and held your binder to your chest as you shut your locker and made sure to rearrange the numbers. “My parents are coming home tomorrow and I have to clean up and stuff.”
“And stuff? What’re you gonna do? Rub one out the last night you’re alone?” Alana, the loud and dirty one of the group, questioned you and made an obscene gesture with her fist and mouth.
You shoved her and covered your blushing face with your binder as your friends giggled around you. You rolled your eyes at her filthy antics and walked in between them. “I’ll let you guys know though, okay? I have studying to do and food shopping.”
“Oh, let me know when you go food shopping. I need to get more snacks,” Beverly, the insanely smart and talkative one of the group, told you as she fixed her glasses on her nose. “I ate too much of everything again and my parents are gonna freak when they see how empty the cabinets are. Especially my dads secret stash. No wonder he keeps a lock and key.”
You and Alana shared a look and laughed. Alana wrapped an arm around Beverly’s shoulders as you three made your way out of the school. There was still a bustle of students here and there - some waiting for the bus, some waiting for their parents, others just loitering. Alana and Beverly were chatting amongst themselves, and judging from the way Bev was sucking her teeth annoyingly, Alana was probably saying something dirty or poking fun. You were in your own head as your eyes scanned your surroundings.
They suddenly landed on a beautiful red mustang parked across the street. The man in the driver’s seat was significantly older than you. You weren’t sure if he was a parent or a teacher, but his eyes never left yours the minute you spotted him. A nudge to your arm brought you back down to earth and you quickly turned your head to focus on your two friends.
“We’re gonna head to the arcade. Danny’s supposed to meet us there. You sure you don’t wanna come?” Bev asked you, furrowing her eyebrows and biting down on her bottom lip with her brace covered teeth.
“I’m sure,” you smiles and fixed the straps of your bag and held your binder tighter to your chest as you took a few steps back. “I’ll see you guys Monday!”
They both bid you a goodbye and went around the school to where the football field was to cut a shortcut. You trotted down the steps and began to make your way home which was just a 10 minute walk, 6 minutes tops if you ran. But do you really wanna run in a skirt? You shook your head to yourself and giggled softly. The air was so fresh and clean. It rained last night and today was a beautiful morning. The smell of grass and flowers overwhelmed your senses as the birds chirped around you.
“Excuse me, young lady,” you heard a gentle southern voice call at you from beside.
You gasped and looked to the side and saw the man you had seen before. He rests one elbow on the the drivers side window as the other rests on the steering wheel. He was wearing a sailor’s hat and had a Hawaiian shirt on, only the top three buttons undone, showcasing a hairy and well built chest with tattoos. He had some on his arms as well and it gave you butterflies. He lowered his sunglasses just a smidge and gave you a charming smile. Up close, he looked so handsome and rugged.
“I sincerely apologize for startling you,” he told you. “Do you, by any chance, know where Collins Avenue is? I’m afraid I don’t have a map and I have a doctor’s appointment.” He seemed so friendly. It made you feel at ease. You stepped closer to the car and looked down the street, missing the way his eyes roamed you up and down.
“You’re gonna go down that street here. And then when you’re about to pass that yellow house, you’re gonna make a right. And then there’s gonna be a blue house at the corner, then you’re gonna wanna make a left and then keep going straight!” You told the directions and gave him a bashful smile, hugging your binder closer to your chest again. “Do you get it, mister?”
“I’m afraid I don’t, darlin,” he huffed and licked his lips, sucking his teeth and tapping his thump against the steering wheel.
“Well, I can draw it out for you if you’d like? I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand,” you giggled quietly, making the man smirk as he bit his lip.
“Would you like to take a seat inside so you’re more comfortable?” He offered and unlocked the doors of his car.
“I’m not allowed to get into cars with strangers, mister,” you told him softly, nervously biting your lip.
“Well look at how smart you are!” He praised you, causing your cheeks to blush pink. He didn’t miss that and grinned wolfishly. “My name is Max Cady. And you are?”
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you told him, taking a small step towards the car when he outstretched his hand to shake yours. His hand was so much bigger than yours, fingers long and veins protruding on his hand and arm. You swallowed down a whimper at the touch.
“See, now we ain’t strangers anymore,” he winked at you, laughing quietly as you looked down. “I promise you, I’m a respectful man and you seem like a lovely lil lady.” He fingers tapped against his thigh as his knee started to bob, a sign of impatience. But he needed to get you to trust him. He needed to simply wait it out until it was the right time. When your hand touched the handle, something inside of him jumped for joy. “There we go!”
You opened your binder and turned to a clean sheet of paper, pulling out a pencil from its pocket and beginning to draw an outline of where Max needed to go. You can feel his eyes on you as you neatly scribbled down street signs and little squares as houses. His scent suddenly filled your senses. The cologne he was wearing smelled so intoxicating. You wanted to bury your nose in his neck to keep that scent around you. You bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together under your binder, hoping he didn’t realize your squirming. Oh, but he did. His eyes trailed down to look at the exposed skin hidden under your pink checkered skirt, your white thigh highs fitting so snug around you. It looked so soft and supple. He needed to squeeze your flesh and sink his teeth into them to leave his mark. He suddenly wonders if you bruise easily.
“So, you go to this school here?” Max asks you, wanting to make small talk to keep you longer. “I hear it’s the last month before summer.”
“Yes, I do! It’s my last year too, and then I go to college,” you beamed with excitement and he almost found it adorable. “I can’t wait. It’s gonna be so exciting.”
“No kiddin’. What’re you studying?” He licked his lips and looked at your neck and collarbones, suddenly wondering what you’d taste like if he trailed his tounge across. How long would he have to choke you to make you pass out?
“English! I wanna be a writer,” you gave him a shy smile, watching as his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled back at you. Man, was he handsome. “I never asked where you’re from, Max. I recognized your accent.”
“Oh, just a lil town up in Georgia,” he shrugged. “Nothin’ too special, I guess.”
“Georgia? I heard they have great peaches up there. I always wanted to go to a peach farm,” you pouted.
“Can I let you in on a secret?” His voice dropped down to a low baritone hum as he moved closer to you, the heat of just him engulfing you like flames. His breath tickled your ear. “They ain’t that good.”
You burst into a fit of giggles and covered your mouth with your palm. Max chuckles to himself and elbows you lightly. Your skin was soft. His hands twitched as he moved back to his spot. And what perfume were you wearing? It smelled like strawberries and rose water.
“Um, here you go, sir - Max!” You handed him the paper and closed your binder after putting your pencil away. “If you just follow those directions, you’d be out on the main street and then the doctor’s office should be around there. I promise, you won’t get lost.”
“Well, since you’ve been such a lovely samaritan, I do believe you deserve a reward,” he tells you and reaches over to open the glove compartment, the back of his hand briefly touching your knees as he rifles around and pulls out a heart shaped lollipop. “Somethin’ sweet for a sweet peach.”
You blushed and took the lollipop with a soft thank you, sir. You unwrapped it and popped it into your mouth, immediately letting out a soft moan, not even realizing it as you suckle and lick. Max never once took his eyes off you. His face changed into one of seriousness. He need to have you. And if he couldn’t right now, he’d find a way. When you went to look at him, he immediately gave you that charming smile of his.
“How about I take you home? You’ve been so good to me and I would just feel so bad letting you walk alone out here,” he told you and laid a large hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing up and down as he looked into your eyes. Almost hypnotized, you nodded. “Where do you live, peach?”
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When Max stopped in front of your house, he took notice of the absence of cars in the driveway. You turned in your seat and gave him a blushing smile. He rests his arm on the seats behind him and spreads his thighs comfortably. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes look down before quickly looking into his again.
“Thank you for the ride, Max. I do hope you get to the doctors office safely,” you told him gently, leaning over the console to give his stubbly cheek a kiss, once more smelling that cologne.
“Pleasure’s all mine, peach,” he grins and tips his hat to you like a gentleman, savoring the little giggles that escape your red tinted lips that was from the lollipop.
He watches as you exit the car, waving back at you as you walk up the long walkway that leads to the steps. When you reach the top, you unlock the door, turning back once more to wave at Max. He gives you a wink as you shut the door. His smile drops from his face at an instant as he puts his car into drive and parks a few houses down. All he has to do is wait now.
When you get inside the house, you drop your bag down with a sigh and envelope the silence that fills up every room. You hated silence with such a passion. It was so quiet, yet so loud at the same damn time. You needed excitement and wonder and boisterous adventures. You trudged up the carpet steps and enter your lonely room. Tugging off your shoes, you neatly put them back in the empty space under your bed, pushing them back just a tad so your bedsheets cover them. You remove your headband and run your fingers through your hair. You sat down on the edge of your bed with a sigh. Coming home to an empty house was the worst feeling you ever felt.
“I need a dog,” you mumbled to yourself and walked over to the radio that sat on your windowsill, sliding in your favorite tape of Queen and smiling happily again when Somebody To Love came on. You hummed along to the lyrics and began to pick up any dirty laundry lying around. You had to make sure the bathroom was in tact as well before your parents came home. You made a mental list in your head of things you needed to do as you left your room and entered the small laundry room just beside yours. You loaded the washer, poured in a small cup of detergent, and turned the novel so that it would start rotating the clothes around.
You walked down the steps and entered the guest bathroom that was adjacent to the back door. You put your handle on the knob and turned it to make sure it was still locked before you left for school and after you came home. Just as you walked down the hallway to check the front door, the familiar Hawaiian shirt caught you off guard in your kitchen. You gasped and pressed your back against the walk beside the steps. Max Cady was standing in your kitchen eating an apple from your bowl of fruits.
“You should learn how to lock your doors, honey,” he tells you, taking another bite out of the apple as he motions with his hand around. “I mean, anybody can just walk in.”
“Wha-What’re you doing here, sir?” You whispered helplessly, feeling as thought you’re about to collapse just from how fast your heart is beating. “My parents will be home a-any minute, you need to go.”
“The calendar says otherwise,” he tells you condescendingly and steps in front of said calendar. He points to a circled date that was tomorrow and reads aloud, “Mom and dad come back.” He turns back to you, seeing the evident fear in your ears and the tremble in your body. “Now, why on earth would you go and lie about somethin’ like that? Your parents taught you about strangers, but I guess they ain’t teachin’ you about lying.”
A small tear rolls down your cheek as you try to muster up a response, but all that comes out is a feeble, “Please.”
Max sets the apple down on the countertop and begins to stalk towards you just as you make a mad dash for the front door. You swing it open just when his strong arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the ground and throwing you back down behind him, causing you to scream and fall on your hands and knees. He slams the door and chases you up the stairs as you helplessly crawl. You sobbed and fought at his rough hands as they grab your arms to slam you against the wall, making one of the picture frams fall onto the ground. You cried and clawed at his skin, trying to smack his face to catch him off guard.
“Get over here,” he growls and enters your room, throwing you onto the bed and slamming the door shut with his foot. “I do believe you need to learn some manners.”
You cried and hiccuped as you hugged your knees to your chest, desperately holding onto them as grabbed onto your pillows as well. You watched with tear filled eyes as Max turns off your radio. He gets on his knees on your bed. You helplessly shake your head and cried out when he grabbed your ankles and dragged you down onto your back, causing your sheets to come undone and your stuffed animals to become disheveled.
“Please don’t kill me,” you whimpered and closed your eyes tight, feeling his nose against your damp cheek as he chuckles in your ear.
“Kill you? Oh honey, I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he tells you, his southern drawl becoming thicker. He sits up straight, looking down your body and at how your thighs are trembling, your skirt pooled around your hips to show your tight gray panties. “Look at what we got here.”
You hiccuped and fearfully opened your eyes to see him staring down between your thighs with such hunger. You go to close them, but he smacks your thigh with such force that it makes you cry out. You rub at that sensitive and pained flesh, suddenly wishing that you never interacted with the man. He grabs your blouse and rips it apart, your buttons flying everywhere. You hear some clatter onto the ground as you lay helpless under him.
“I don’t want to hurt your pretty lil self, so how about you just cooperate, hm?” Max sternly tells you, pointing a finger down at you as if scolding a child. When you let out a small, “okay,” he nods in approval. “Now, have you ever been touched by a man?” You shake your head no. “You ever been touched by a woman?” You shook your head no. “You ever touch yourself?” You shook your head no once again. He laughs to himself and rubs a hand down his jaw. “You shittin’ me?”
“No sir,” you weakly whisper. “I’ve been saving myself.” You jump from his boisterous laugh. “What?”
“Well, I never thought of you to be such a holy girl.” His fingers gripped your thighs and he groaned as he saw the flesh turn white before pink. “Sweet, little innocent thing, hm?”
“Yes sir,” you whispered, your thighs trembling as his fingers moved further down until they stopped at the rim of your panties. “W-What’re you gonna do to me?”
“Well, I wanna choke the life out of you and destroy every inch of this body of yours, but I’m a gentleman,” he grins and tips his hat before putting it to the side. “I like you, Y/N, and I think we’re gonna get along just nicely.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, sliding the blade under the fabric of your panties and lifting up in quick succession as he rips the fabric out from under you. He whistles and licks his lips as he first sees your bare cunt.
“Freshly shaved, just how I like ‘em,” he grins and rubs his fingers against the lips of your private parts. You jumped from the foreign feeling and gasped, thighs trembling to fall shut as he applies pressure to the swelling button hidden beneath your lips. “Thatta girl. Just let daddy do what’s best for you, hm?” He forces your thighs further apart and notices a small string of arousal sliding out of your tight hole. “What do we have here?”
You’re nervously panting as you play with the locket around your neck. Max slides his fingers to scoop up slme of your slick and shows it off to you with a filthy smile, spreading his fingers lewdly to show you the strings of arousal that look like saliva.
“I-I don’t know what that is,” you softly tell him. “And I don’t want to know. So can you please leave me alone, sir.” More tears filled your eyes as he laughed at your pathetic attempt.
“Darlin’, we’re just getting started,” he tells you and suddenly roughly shoves in his middle and ring fingers inside your tight cunt, laughing maniacally at the way you scream out from the painful intrusion. “That’s what I like to hear!”
You try to shut your thighs, but his large body and his arm between your legs stop you from doing so. He reaches over and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing and forcing you further down ontk the bed. You cough and grab onto his forearm, digging your nails into his tattooed and hairy skin. You kick your feet out as he begins to move his fingers in and out of you in quick succession. You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to distract yourself. But every single one of your thoughts are violated by Max. He squeezes your throat much harder than the last, relishing your weak gasps for air and the wet sloshing of his fingers inside your virgin pussy.
“You think I didn’t notice those little fuck me eyes looking at me inside the car?” He crooned. He removed his hand from your throat, watching with a hungry expression when you weakly gasp for air, your eyes dazy and unfocused. He slaps your cheek condescendingly, loving the small whimpers that leave your lips as he does so. “You wanted me from the start, little peach.” He leans over with a hand planted in the side of your head. You look up at him, thighs trembling even more as he speeds up his fingers, the tips prodding at this sensitive part inside of you that forces more slick to pour out.
“Mmhmmm,” you whimpered softly and threw your head back as your toes curled in your thigh highs. This feeling was so foreign, yet it felt so good. Max knew what he was doing, and yet you didn’t want him to stop. “Please... daddy.”
“That’s my girl,” he grins, crooking his fingers and moving his wrist upward as he ferociously begins to finger fuck you. You gasped and reached down to grab his forearm, but he shakes his head and laughs at your weak attempt.
“Oh G-God!” You squealed, eyebrows furrowing and cheeks burning up as the churning in your stomach envelopes into something bigger and stronger. “I-I feel... I feel... uuhhnnggh.”
“Let it happen,” he growls, slapping you in the face just as you squirt all over his hand and forearm, your juices spilling out onto your bedsheets and his pants. “Look at that!” He laughs as you try to catch your breath.
“Wha-What just happened, Max?” You whispered, feeling so dirty from letting an older man - a stranger - touch you so inappropriately, and you liking it.
“Oh honey, that ain’t nothin’,” he draws out and begins to unbuckle his belt. “We’re just getting started.”
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TAGS: Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed <3
@robert-de-niro-only-fans @droogiesanddiscourse @robert-deniro-love
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favefandomimagines · 3 years
Text
More Money, More Problems 1
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AN: HIII starting my rafe cameron x oc series! lowkey couldn’t think of a better title than ‘more money more problems’ sooo sorry for that lol but i hope you enjoy!
Ella Green begrudgingly woke up to the feeling of someone jumping on her bed, potentially 20 minutes before her alarm actually went off.
“Ella, Ella, wake up! It’s waffle day!” She heard her little brother’s high pitched voice, causing her to roll over. The younger boy stopped jumping and landed right next to her.
“Ella, wake up.” He said again. “They’re not home again are they?” Ella asked. “No and it’s waffle day.” He answered.
Ella’s parents were the definition of absentee. The only reason CPS hadn’t put her and her 8 year old brother, Tommy, in foster care was because their parents still lived at home. As far as the government was concerned, that was true. But to everyone who knew the Greens, Ella and Tommy’s parents left when the youngest was 6.
With a slight groan, Ella got out of bed with Tommy following close behind her. “Pancakes will have to do for today, kiddo. I start my new job today and you and Mr. Hayward are running errands today.” She told him.
Pope and his family were always there to help out Ella whenever she needed it. During the Summer, when she had to work, Mr. Hayward would either bring him along for deliveries on the boat or Mrs. Hayward would watch him. They thought Tommy was a good kid and Ella had to grown up faster than she should’ve.
“I can settle for pancakes.” Tommy said. Ella laughed lightly at her younger brother as she gathered the ingredients.
After Tommy had eaten, the two siblings went to get themselves put together for the day. Ella despised her new uniform. The rather tight blue polo and black skort was not her usual style of clothing. But she needed the job to pay her bills.
“I look so stupid.” Ella muttered, putting her hair in a ponytail. She just had to keep telling herself that the money would be worth it.
Once she dropped Tommy off at Hayward’s, she headed off towards the golf course for her shift. She got the basic run through from her boss before she started loading up the beverage cart.
Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton walked outside to get their own golf cart when the new beverage cart girl, caught Rafe’s eye.
She had dirty blonde hair, much like his own, tan skin and from what he could tell, deep blue eyes and he just watched her as she loaded up the cart.
“Hey, who is that?” Rafe asked his friend. “Who? Ella Green?” Topper questioned. “That’s Ella Green? No way, dude.” Rafe replied. “Yeah that’s her. Puberty was good to her.” Topper said.
Rafe looked at Ella for a little while longer, agreeing with his friend. Ella did look good since the last time he saw her. But why was he actually considering speaking to a Pogue?
“Hey, Green! The uniform suits you.” Rafe called to her. Ella looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Definitely reconsidering this job now.” She commented. “Oh come on, we aren’t all bad.” Rafe added. “Yeah, okay.” She said.
“I’ll see you out there, Green.” He said as she got on the golf cart. “In your dreams, Cameron.” Ella replied before driving off. “Were you just flirting with her?” Topper asked his friend. “What? No, I was doing it to get on her nerves. Seemed like it worked.” Rafe said.
But he was 100% flirting with Ella. Not knowing what about her made him want to actually speak to a Pogue. 
All day while Rafe and Topper were golfing, he kept his eye out for her. Watching Ella as she gave rich businessmen beer and other drinks, while they barely tipped her. 
He could tell by the look on her face that they were being quite stingy on tipping the young Pogue. “Dude, you are playing like ass today.” Topper commented. “I’m just having an off day, I guess.” Rafe said. 
“Bev cart girl!” Topper called to Ella. They watched as Ella rolled her eyes but made her way over to the two anyways. “What?” She asked. “Two beers.” Topper replied. “ID?” She questioned. “Come on, Green, seriously?” Topper asked. “Uh yeah. At least Rafe can pass for 21. Trust me no amount of Givenchy cologne you dump on your body can make you look of age.” Ella said. 
Rafe stifled a laugh as Topper tried to come up with something to say. “Stupid Pogue.” Topper muttered. “Wow, what a burn Thornton. Not like I haven’t heard it a million times. You Kooks are running out of material.” Ella commented, before she walked back to the golf cart. 
“She may look good but she’s still a bitch.” Topper said. Rafe didn’t reply or comment like he usually would have. 
He just couldn’t find it in him to say anything bad about the girl for some reason. 
Ella had finished a rather long shift at the golf course and was just ready to go home. She earned barely any tips, the old guys would try to hit on her and flirt but she was having no part of it. And on top of that, Rafe Cameron would not stop following her around. 
Rafe wasn’t a nice guy to her or her friends and she didn’t want to see him more than she had to. 
Ella got in her car and turned the key, only for the engine to sputter. “No, no, please don’t do this to me.” She muttered as she kept turning the key. Her old car was no starting and Ella didn’t know what to do. 
She got out of the car and popped the hood, not really knowing what she was looking for how to even fix it. “I cannot afford to fix you right now.” She said. 
“Need some help?” A voice asked. Ella looked over the hood of her car and saw Rafe leaning against the front of his truck. “Nope. I can fix this just fine.” Ella replied. “You don’t know what’s wrong with it, do you?” Rafe questioned. 
Ella was quiet for a moment, Rafe taking that as the answer he wanted. He walked towards the girl and stood next to her, looking at the engine of the vehicle. 
“Do you even know how to fix it?” Ella asked. “No, but I can call Triple A and give you a ride home.” He answered. “I think I can manage. I’ll just call John B or something.” Ella said. “He’s with my sister.” Rafe replied. “I’ll call Kie.” She said. “Working at The Wreck.” Rafe rebutted. “Then I’ll freaking walk home.” Ella snapped. 
“Seriously, just let me drive you home.” The young man with all seriousness. “Why?” Ella asked. “Because it would be rude to let a lady walk home when it’s getting dark.” He answered. 
The girl was quiet for a moment, wondering if she should really accept Rafe’s offer. She felt that he was too keen on helping her, it had to be a joke. 
“This isn’t some stupid prank, is it? Because I really have to get home.” Ella said. “I swear it’s not a prank.” He spoke quickly. “Fine.” She muttered in defeat, closing the hood of her car and walking towards Rafe’s truck. 
Rafe smiled to himself, feeling accomplished enough to at least talk to her. Ella got into the passenger seat of the truck, taking her ponytail out in the process. 
“How was the first day?” Rafe asked her. “Awful. You Kooks really don’t know how to tip a working girl, do you?” Ella retorted. “Well, you Pogues usually have an attitude.” Rafe replied. “I will literally jump out of this car.” Ella said. 
“I’m kidding, it was only a joke.” He told her. “No offense, Rafe, but most of you think everything is a joke.” She said. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. There was no malice or ill intent behind his question, he genuinely wanted to know. 
“I work three jobs to support my brother and I. I haven’t seen my parents in months, so working isn’t some joke to me. When I make shitty tips, Tommy doesn’t get a new backpack for school.” She explained. 
Rafe didn’t know anything about Ella’s parents. Just that his dad would always make comments about them whenever they saw Ella at the country club waiting tables. 
“I didn’t mean to go all ‘woe is me’ or anything.” She added. “No, it’s okay. I, uh, I didn’t know.” Rafe said. He pulled into the driveway of the house she pointed to and Ella got out. 
“Thanks for the ride, Cameron.” Ella said. “Hey, wait,” He called after her. Rafe reached over the center console with two $100 in his hands. “Take it.” He finished. “What? No, Rafe, I can’t take that.” Ella told him. “Consider it reimbursement for all the tips you didn’t get today.” He said. 
Ella reluctantly reached for the money and took it gently. “Are you sure? I-I’ll find a way to pay you back.” She asked. “I’m sure. You could use it more than I could.” He answered. 
She gave him a small smile before closing the passenger side door. “Goodnight, Green.” Rafe called. “Goodnight, Cameron.” She replied. 
Ella walked up the steps of her house, staring at the $200 she held in her hands and then looked back at Rafe’s truck backing out of her driveway. 
She didn’t know the version of Rafe Cameron she had just encountered, but she liked that version a whole lot better. 
But how long was it going to last?
taglist: @i-love-you-green
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feelingisshit · 3 years
Text
Don’t Know Me - Stan Uris x Reader
Warnings - swearing, sexual mentions, victor and belch, this is my first time writing for IT
Stan and I had never really got along, it wasn’t like we always hated each other but we really never clicked as I did with the rest of the losers. We just never really had anything in common except our friends which obviously wasn’t enough because those friends started to become what was pushing us even farther apart. A snide remark from Richie here and there and then the rest of the group opting to believe Stan more often than not put more tension on our relationship and soon enough both of us did hate each other. 
“God, why do you have to correct everything I say? You’re such a fucking know-it-all Stanley!” Stan scoffed and rolled his eyes so aggressively that I thought maybe they’d fall out of his damn head. “All you do is try to take control of everything I do or say! And you know what else Stan?” I ask, moving towards him and poking a finger into his chest. “What? What nonsense do you have to say this time (y/n)? Really I’d love to know!” this makes me fume and if we were in a cartoon you’d most likely see smoke shoot out of my ears. “That! That’s what else Stan! You act like I’m so ignorant when really I get the same grades if not better than you do. Just because I don’t like to use my free time to study new things like you and Ben do doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!” I stomp and all the losers shrink back away from us.
I look over at them and my eyes immediately when I see that Eddie and Ben are visibly worried. I turn back to Stan who’s looking down on me with an expression I can’t quite read. I sigh heavily before grabbing my bag off the dirt-covered planks of the clubhouse and heading to the ladder up. “W-Where are you y-y-you go-going (y/n)?” Bill stutters out and I shoot Stan a glare before looking back at Bill. “I need a breather so I’m going back into town, probably home. If you guys want to hang out again later that’s fine by me.” I say before taking the ladder back up to the surface and walking back towards town to get ice cream.
“Why? Why the fuck does he hate me so much?” I cried, leaning over my ice cream. God Stan pisses me off to no end but at least I’m really the only one who he treats this way. At least he’s nice to the rest of the losers. “He’d be so pretty if he wasn’t scowling all the time…” I say to myself before finishing my ice cream. As I finish my cone and start to get up I get pushed back down onto the curb. I look up and see the two remaining boys of Bowers’ gang above me with hesitant smiles and shifting eyes. They look down on me with much more venom than I’ve ever seen in Stan’s eyes when he looks at me. “What are you doing all alone on the pavement? Your group of fuck buddies tired of you already? Ya get too used for their liking?” Victor spat at me and I let out a laugh without thinking. He grabbed me by my top and pulled me closer to him, so close that I could smell the liquor he had been drinking. The scent hit my nose so hard that I didn’t get to hear what he had said before he slapped me, threw me to the pavement, kicked me in the side a few times, then ran for the hills with Belch following closely behind.
“Are you alright (y/n)?” I didn’t get to register who had said that to me before I started crying again. Whoever had come to check on me just sat beside me quietly listening and rubbing a hand over my back to help soothe me. While I cried I let everything go to this stranger, I told them about practically everything that had been bothering me. Like part of the traumatic events of earlier that summer and how much Stan being a major dickhead was affecting me. All they did was rub their hand up and down my back and before I had realized it, the sun was already almost set and I would need to be home soon for dinner.  I quickly got up, wiped my eyes, gathered my belongings, and shouted a quick thanks before running off in the direction of my home without thinking to take a quick look back.
The next few times the losers club hung out Stan was fairly silent, opting to read a book instead of listening to mostly just Eddie and Richie bickering. The fourth hangout all Stan could seem to do was stare at me over the edge of his big book of birds. Yet, every time I locked eyes with him he looked away quickly, acting as if he hadn’t just been peering at me for at least fifteen minutes straight. That was about all I could stand to let him stare me down while I was trying to have a conversation with Ben and Beverly. “Why is he staring at you like that? Did something happen after you went to take a breather?” Bev questioned and Ben shuddered from the memory of how angry I had gotten. “I have no fucking clue to be completely honest with you. I really wish I did know what was going on in that pretty head of his…” I said without really thinking too much and both Ben and Bev did a double-take after I had said it. I regretted my words as soon as they had absentmindedly come out of my mouth and I laid my head in my hands, thankful that Stan was sitting on the other side of the clubhouse from us.  
“(y/n)? What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” Bev teased and Ben pushed her a bit but all she did was laugh and then lean onto Ben’s shoulder to listen to what I’ll have to say. “Seriously tho, Bev’s teasing aside, I never thought I’d hear you say something like that about one of us and especially not Stan.” I groan and lift my head to look around. Everyone was still caught up in their conversations to pay us any mind. The only person who even thought to give us attention was still just Stan. When I caught his eyes with mine he didn’t look away immediately like he had before, like he somehow knew we were talking about him. I wave my hand awkwardly and he simply nods back at me and then looks back down to keep reading his big bird book.
I leaned forward towards the two so that hopefully only they could hear me. “Yeah…” I sighed and shook my head “I think Stan is cute but that doesn’t change the fact that we still basically hate each other.” Ben nodded thoughtfully with a hand to his chin. Bev butts in, “I don’t know, I think something has changed. He’s never kept his distance like this.” She stated plainly, leaning back against the wooden post with her hands laced behind her head. “He usually just sits with everyone and then argues with you if you bring something up. Are you sure nothing happened between you two after you had left?” She asks closing her eyes to rest them, a soft smile resting on her lips.
“I mean yeah i’m sure, unless you guys sent him after me. Someone, I didn't get to see who, checked up on me after I got pushed around a bit by Victor and Belch outside the ice cream shop.” She coughed and sat straight up looking at me with wide eyes, trying to catch her breath. “Victor and Belch got to you and you didn’t think to mention it to any of us?!” Bev shouted which quickly gained the rest of the boys’ attention. The only eyes that didn't look up at Bev were Stan’s. In fact, he actually shrank even further into his book if that were even possible. I tried to wave everyone’s attention off but none of them even started to look away until I had proved that I was fine other than a few bruises. After they had all finally gone back to their prior conversations I told Ben and Bev what I had ended up saying to whoever was kind enough to comfort one of the loser kids. Ben and Bev exchanged looks but neither of them seemed to want to make an effort to express what they were thinking.
The next time we all got together again was at Bill’s place for a sleepover. And by then whatever remorse Stan had for me had passed because he was back to being obnoxious as usual, correcting my grammar, and whatever else he thought I was wrong about. “Ya know what Stan?” I finally spit out after he had corrected my grammar for maybe the twelfth time already that night. Everyone looked nervously between the two of us, scared that a screaming match would start soon. Stan cocked an eyebrow at me and my eye twitched before I started to answer, “Stan, I have no idea why you had mercy on me for a few days and I have absolutely no clue what crawled up your fucking ass and died that put you in a shit mood but I really don’t want to be in a bad mood tonight. Do you think you could at least be a little nicer to me for your friends so you don’t fuck up their time?” I was exhausted already and we had only been at Bill’s for maybe an hour. “Honestly I might just head to bed now so Stan plays nice since he only ever seems to really be upset with me. Or maybe I’ll just head home even so I’m not even in the same house to be upset with. Oh, and Stan?” He tilted his head questioningly. “Maybe get to know a girl a bit more before you hate her cause honestly you don’t even really know me.” I breathed and gathered my belongings. I tried to leave too but Bill was one step ahead of me.
“P-please do-don’t leave (y/n). You can go l-lay down in-in my room if y-you need a bre-breather.” I nod and smile softly, “Thanks Billy.” I say before setting my bag back down on the floor by the couch and heading up to Bill’s room for a break from the chaos. After a few minutes of getting to lay in silence and stare at the ceiling a knock sounded at Bill’s bedroom door. “Come in,” I say, half expecting Ben, Bev, or Eddie to be the one at the door but when I look over at the door after it had opened I see Stan standing there awkwardly in the frame of the door. “I said you could come in Stan, I don’t know why you’re up here but believe me you’re welcome to come in none the less.” I say looking back up at the ceiling. I hear the floorboards creak and feel the bed dip beside me. I hear Stan mumble something and I sigh and sit up on the bed. “I couldn’t hear what you said, you’re mumbling.” I state, looking straight at Stan whose face is red and his golden brown eyes are shifting quite a lot. “I’m sorry, okay!” he suddenly shouted and it startled me since he doesn’t usually get very loud.
“What?” I say more out of confusion than anything else and Stan stands and starts to head towards the door. I jump up and grab at his wrist to stop him. “I didn’t come in here to fight you, I’m sorry. I’ll try to leave you be from now on. That’s all I came to say.” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand nervously. “You sure? It sorta seems like there’s more you want to say.” I ask and he sighs, “I was the person who was with you after Victor and Belch got to you  and I didn’t realize how much what i said actually affected you. So, I’m sorry for everything I’ve said to or about you.” He apologizes with a red face and I chuckle lightly. “I’m sorry too Stan, I haven’t been all that honest with you either.” He tilts his head in confusion and I shake my head and continue, “I don’t hate you Stan, I honestly wish I did after everything you’ve done and said to me to piss me off over the years. Really I,” I pause, taking a deep breath before I admit this to him. 
“I  honestly think you’re pretty cute, handsome, pretty, whatever word you’d prefer.” I manage to spit out with a heated face and this time not from anger but from slight embarrassment of admitting something I’ve only told Bev and Ben. He just stands there staring at me in awe or shock, I couldn’t quite tell which. I place a hand on his shoulder and pull him down to my level. I place a soft kiss on his cheek before starting to head back to the group sitting in Bill’s living room. “I guess you do know me huh Stan Uris?” I whisper to myself before walking into the living room and sitting down among the other losers.
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19tozier · 3 years
Text
wish you were sober (richie tozier)
warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex, angst, pining, reader is an unreliable narrator at best
inspired by the song wish you were sober by conan gray
[losers + reader are 16+]
if someone were to ask you when you fell in love with richie, you don’t think you’d be able to answer them.
was it when you met him, thirteen and wild and so magnetic you couldn’t stay away from him? was it when you followed him into a sewer, endlessly terrified but trying to be as brave as he made you think you could be? was it when you looked at him and realized he had grown up right in front of you, and you hadn’t realized? or was it all the little moments in between, the mundane and the electric all in one?
you have no clue. all you know is this: you’re in love with richie tozier, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.
you bring your cup to your mouth, the edge of it pressing into your bottom lip. you don’t take a drink from it; you’re already a little buzzed, and you’re reluctant to get any drunker. you don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.
across the room from you, somehow perfectly visible despite the mass of dancing bodies separating you from him, richie leans against the wall, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend, who isn’t you.
you exhale as slowly as you can. inside of your chest, your heart feels like it is poised to shatter.
it shouldn’t shock you anymore. richie has a new girlfriend seemingly every month, a revolving-door of pretty girls that giggle when he kisses them and wear his jean jacket around school but ultimately never stay long. richie never offers explanation as to why they break up and you never ask. you’re afraid of whatever it is he might say. you’re afraid of knowing you’re not good enough for him if all of them weren’t.
you sigh. you’re such a fucking cliche. falling in love with your best friend, silently pining away as if it’ll make him notice you? you’d gag at the thought if it wasn’t your life.
a shoulder brushing against yours distracts you from your thoughts, and you glance over to see stan’s expectant face. he raises an eyebrow at you. “you alright?”
you want to scream. no, you’re not alright. you don’t think you’ve been alright since before you were officially a loser. but you can’t say that to stan, not without being perfectly honest, so you arrange your features into something resembling a smile. “what’s up, buttercup?”
stan scoffs. “you’ve been spending too much time with richie.”
will it ever stop hurting, the constant reminder of how close you are with richie but never close enough? “or he’s been spending too much time with me,” you say, sniffing arrogantly. the facade you put on sometimes is easier than breathing.
stan rolls his eyes. “sure, that’s it.” he pauses, squinting at you. “are you sure you’re okay? you look… upset, i guess.”
you snort, taking a sip of your drink as an excuse not to respond right away. your heart is in your throat at the idea of being caught. “you guess? gee, thanks stan.”
he narrows his eyes at you, his nostrils flaring slightly. behind him, bill is jumping onto mike’s back, laughing loudly. “shut up, you know what i meant. are you alright? seriously.”
you don’t give yourself time to hesitate. stan has a sixth sense for when he’s being lied to and won’t stop pestering you until you tell him the truth, and you’d like to not confess to him tonight. “yeah, stan,” you grin, feeling the lie like sawdust in your mouth. “i’m all good.”
he gives you a skeptical look, searching your face, but eventually he just sighs and nods. “alright, fine. if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
you nod back, glad you managed to escape that. “thanks, dude. hey, i’m gonna go grab a different drink, i’ll be right back.”
you don’t wait for him to say anything, or for anyone else to come with you. you just slip away, using the hordes of drunk teenagers to your advantage until you manage to get to the kitchen.
your shoulders slump, the smile you’d painted onto your face slipping away. slowly, you pour the rest of your shitty beer down the sink, opening the fridge and rifling around until you find a soda, stealing it before you can talk yourself out of it. whoever’s house this is won’t care, and besides, you think you need it.
when you leave the kitchen, your eyes fall to the spot where richie had been leaning. the wall is empty now.
pathetically, your eyes fill with tears. of course you know richie has a lot of sex, considering the self-satisfied smirk he’ll wear after getting fucked combined with the rumors that follow him like the perfume of whatever girl he’s seeing. the worst part is they aren’t even bad rumors; you’d lost count of the amount of times you had heard of how good a lover he is, or how his dick is as big as he’s often bragging, or how he does this thing with his mouth that feels like absolute heaven—
you’d heard enough. too much, probably. and it burrowed into your brain like the most insidious of weeds, sprouting thoughts you never should have let take root.
but of course richie was off fucking his girl. she was gorgeous, after all, easily one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen, all smooth tanned skin and long blonde hair and hourglass figure. the kind of girl that richie deserved to have on his arm. the kind of girl that you would never be.
you knew this would happen. still, the pain of it takes your breath away.
you manage to stumble your way back over to the losers, greeting them with a smile that feels entirely too wooden. you play the part, laughing with bev and leaning into ben’s shoulder and gossiping quietly with eddie. you stick to your script, even when richie stumbles down the stairs sometime later with the girl tucked under his arm, both of their clothes in disarray and richie’s curls a wild mess. you’re such a seasoned professional that you barely miss a beat with eddie, even when your eyes find the hickey sucked under richie’s jaw and stay there.
for the rest of the night, you do your best to stay away from richie, always at least one loser between you two. you doubt he notices, too wrapped up in his girl. you think her name is sandy. she’s so beautiful it hurts.
eventually, you think it’s probably late enough that you can leave without raising much of a fuss. all of the other losers are still there, but bev’s already dozing against ben’s shoulder and bill is fighting a losing battle with his own drooping eyelids. you can probably slip out now, you figure, before you fall apart.
you manage to say your goodbyes as quickly as possible, waving as you turn to leave. you drove here with the others in stan’s car but it’s not too far of a walk. besides, the cold might do you some good—
a hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you back against a broad chest. when you turn, you come face to face with one richie tozier.
god, years later and he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. his jawline is sharp and square, his shoulders broad and sturdy, a whisper of the strength he will carry as a man but no less impressive now. gone are the days of the dorky kid you first met; he’d long ago traded in his hawaiian shirts for jean jackets and ripped jeans, silver rings glinting around his fingers and a chain hanging into the open collar of his t-shirt. again, you are reminded of the rumors that constantly follow him. you’re just angry they didn’t think he was hot from the very beginning.
“where are you going?” he asks, his words slurred. he’d been downing the shitty spiked punch earlier like it was his job.
you sigh, tilting your head back to look at him. there’s another hickey just to the left of his adam’s apple. “home,” you say, simply. “i’m tired.”
he frowns, stepping closer to you. the heat radiates off of him. “but i haven’t gotten to talk to you all night,” he whines, pouting ridiculously. “i missed you.”
it shouldn’t affect you. richie flirts like breathing, with anyone who will entertain him. it’s just how close you two are that means his flirting is usually aimed at you. “sorry, rich,” you say, and you find that you mean it. “next time, okay?”
his fingers release your wrist, only to catch on the curve of your waist and pull you close. the heat of his hand burns through the flimsy material of your top. you’re so focused on trying to stay upright just from that simple touch that you almost miss what he says next.
“can i come with you?” his voice is low, rough, more of a growl than anything else.
you blink, stupefied. usually you’re quicker than this, able to keep up a banter with him that’s rivaled only by him and eddie. now, you’re left tongue-tied, the endless wanting inside of you threading around your throat and choking you. “what?”
“can i come with you?” he repeats, looking down at you with his pretty eyes. his glasses slide down his nose. you fight the urge to push them back up. “we can take my truck. this party’s kind of a bore, honestly.”
you swallow, feeling your heart stutter. “what about sandy?” your mouth is so dry your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth.
richie shrugs, casual as all hell and infuriatingly attractive. “she can last without me for a bit. i’d rather hang out with my favorite girl.” he grins at you, his dimples curving into his cheek.
it makes you want to scream. he says things like this all the time, calls you doll and baby and love like he has the fucking right, constantly says you’re the most important person in his life. and yet, he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you do for him. and he never will.
still, you’re a sucker for him. your lips curl into a weak smile. “sure, rich,” you whisper; any louder and your voice will crack. “let’s get out of here.”
he doesn’t even stop to say goodbye to anyone else, just crowding against your back and walking behind you the entire way out the front door. he’s so close that his chest brushes against your shoulder blades, his fingertips grazing over your hip. you focus on not tripping.
once you’re outside, you hold your hand out, not looking at him. “keys,” you command.
he laughs, full and bright as he digs his keys out of his pocket. “yes, nurse ratched,” he teases, dropping them into your hand. “right away, nurse ratched.”
you scowl at him, turning away to stomp your way down the block to where richie parked. it’s not a long walk but the late autumn night is chilly, especially through the thin material of your top and your skirt. you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself.
before you can really react, richie’s shrugging off his jacket, settling the heavy denim over your shoulders. he’s just wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath, the cotton clinging to his biceps and chest, and you can’t tear your eyes away, even when he murmurs, “should’ve said you were cold, doll.”
the jacket smells like him: the apple of his shampoo, the warmth of his deodorant, the smoke from his cigarettes. it shouldn’t be a pleasant scent but it is, because it means comfort. it means home. it means your best friend and the love of your life.
your shoulders slump, your hand trembling when you finally reach his truck and reach for the driver’s side handle. “thanks, richie,” you breathe, climbing into the car before he can answer.
you don’t really know what he had in mind when he asked to leave with you, but you’re too overwhelmed to handle being alone with him for too long. already, having him this close is fogging your brain. you need to get away from him so you can fall apart in peace.
you decide to just take him home and walk from there. it proves to be the best choice, because not even a minute into your drive his chin is dropping down to his chest, his eyelids closing in longer and longer blinks until finally, he’s dozing in the front seat, big body curled in your direction. it fills you with so much warmth you think you are burning from the inside out.
it should be ridiculous, how much you love him. you should be at your limit for how much you have to give, capped out a long time ago, but everyday you fall for him a little bit more. whenever he does something particularly sweet, or funny, or attractive, you feel a little more of yourself crumble away to lay at his feet. at this point, you’re more fracture than glass, crushed into a fine powder under richie’s foot.
by the time you pull into richie’s driveway, he’s snoring lightly, his glasses knocked askew on his face. part of you wants to let him sleep, but the bigger part of you knows you need to get him into the house. you already slack on your best friend duties by secretly being in love with him, you don’t need to leave him out in the cold too.
sighing, you turn the key and shut the car off, getting out and walking around to the passenger side. you shake his shoulder, gently at first, then rougher when he doesn’t respond. he grumbles, swatting at you. you can’t help but laugh, shaking him again.
“rich,” you croon, shaking him with both hands. he groans, scrunching his face up. you snicker. “c’mon asshole, you’re too heavy for me to carry.”
he pries one eye open, glaring at you. “or you’re too small to even try,” he taunts back, sticking his tongue out.
you roll your eyes, tugging him out of the car. he goes easily enough, stumbling a little bit leaning into your side as you lock the car behind you.
you weren’t kidding when you said he was heavy. he’s just so much bigger than you, tall and broad and undeniably masculine. you try your best to take some of his weight with an arm curved around his waist, but you don’t think you’re really doing anything.
the lights are all off inside, richie’s parents gone for the weekend at some conference for his dad’s work. it makes you feel better about how you two stumble around in the dark, knocking into the walls and tripping over the stairs. finally, without much incident, you make it into richie’s room, depositing him on his bed before he can fall and brain himself on his table. his desk light is on, throwing the room into shadow but just light enough for you to see his face.
his curls spread around him on his pillow, his eyes already closed. he’s on top of his covers but there’s not much you can do about that. the only thing you can do is untie his boots and pluck his glasses from his face, letting him get as comfortable as he can with his clothes still on.
you stop, looking down at him. he’s almost angelic in his sleep, peaceful and quiet for probably the only time in his life. he’s so gorgeous like this, vulnerable, unguarded. it makes you feel like a creep to be looking at this without his knowledge. or his approval.
biting your lip, you turn to the door, only stopping when you realize you still have his jacket. carefully, you shrug it off, going to lay it on his bed when his voice stops you.
“keep it.”
you look up to see his eyes half-open, locked on you. the lamp throws his face into sharp angles and shadow, but the expression on his face is soft. his fingers stretch towards you.
“it looks good on you,” he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. “you should wear it all the time.”
you don’t know what to say, frozen at the foot of his bed. it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, before you remember that he’s drunk and out of his mind. he probably thinks you’re sandy. there’s no way he’d ever say that to you.
but he keeps going, his voice rough, smooth velvet over steel. “you look good all the time. makes me feel insane. just wanna touch you but i can’t.”
your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. through trembling lips, you manage to get out, “what about sandy?”
he shrugs, a tiny movement that feels unsure. you’ve never seen him shy like this. the fact that sandy’s likely the reason makes you burn inside. “she’s cool and all, but she’s not you. you’re my best friend, (y/n). i love you.”
you gasp softly, nowhere near loud enough for him to hear. your heart feels like it’s being pulled in two. “i love you too, rich. more than you could ever understand.”
but he shakes his head firmly. “no, you don’t get it. i love you. you’re my—you’re my other half. my partner in crime. i’d be lost without you.” before you can respond, he sighs and whispers, “wish you were my girlfriend. not sandy.”
his eyes slip closed the next instant. as you stand there, simultaneously turned to stone and burning alive, he gives a soft snore, his features relaxing in sleep.
you stare down at him for what feels like centuries, suddenly too old to move. you look down at the jacket in your arms, then back up to him. a loose curl lays against his forehead. your fingers itch to push it behind his ear.
“i wish you were sober,” you whisper. he doesn’t twitch.
you leave the jacket laid at the foot of his bed when you go.
(part two)
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