#a great source for every time Eddie’s been jealous over Buck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

florenceandthemachine · 4 years

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talk to me about king christopher, intentionally or not, helping his two dads figure out they’re in love with each other 🤗 xoxo

cailee, you beautiful wonderful tropical fish, did you know you had a direct line to my soul with asks like this?

There was a very, very good reason that whenever anyone asked Edmundo Diaz about his son, the first word that he used to describe Chris was ‘smart’.

Chris was a caring boy, a kind boy, a kid who had known loss and grief in his life, more than any child should. He had survived earthquakes, tsunamis, surgeries, death, and that had shaped him into a kid that was incredibly sweet, empathetic, but most of all, smart.

Eddie knew it, of course; he was incredibly proud of his son, of the work he did in school, of the friends he made, of the person that he was growing into. Chris was bright, and he was bubbly, and he was whip quick in a way that Eddie sincerely wished he could be an adult, let alone as a kid—but that wit usually came as a double edged sword.

Because as proud as Eddie was of his son, Chris had a knack of thinking circles around everyone, himself included.

Eddie knew when he was being played for extra video game time, and knew damn well when Chris batted his eyes for a sick day from school, but Eddie figured that was about as far as things went. As far as Eddie was concerned, as long as his grades stayed up and he stayed happy with his friends, a little special treatment wouldn’t hurt.

So it only made sense that when Chris decided to wield his powers for good where his father was concerned, Eddie had no idea what was coming.

“Dad, can we go over to Buck’s house to play some video games tonight?”

Eddie smiled, watching Chris tilt his cell phone to get through whatever game he was playing in the rear view mirror as they made the trek home from Abuela’s. He had to admit, while the best possible thing that had come out of him joining the 118 was the easy friendship that he found with Buck, the easy friendship that Chris and Buck seemed to have made was a close second.

“I dunno buddy, Buck might already have dinner plans. Besides, you know it’s rude for us to invite ourselves over.” Eddie said, catching Chris’ eye in at a stoplight. He was thankful for their friendship, of course, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel a little guilty about monopolizing all of Buck’s time when they were both off the clock.

The look Chris gave him was thoroughly unimpressed as he held up Eddie’s phone, speaking like it was actually paining him to have to explain himself. “Dad, Buck was the one who asked. He says we should bring over pizza!”

...okay, Eddie might have felt bad about being attached to Buck at the hip, but that didn’t mean he was about to deny himself the pleasure when Buck was the one to initiate some time together. And Eddie definitely wasn’t going to say no when he knew that Chris was looking forward to spending time with Buck just as much as Eddie was.

Even if Eddie knew he enjoyed Buck’s company for entirely different reasons.

“Hey, thanks for having us over.” Eddie said softly, once pizza had been devoured, and Buck had his ass thoroughly kicked (With Chris, Buck definitely threw his matches—but with Eddie, well, there was no denying the cry of defeat whenever Eddie skimmed past him into first). “Chris loves spending time with you, you make his night whenever he gets to see you.”

Buck grinned back at him, that easy smile that made Eddie’s heart do things he didn’t care to identify as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know I love spending some time with my Diaz boys. This was definitely one of your better ideas.” he said easily, clearing the table, sliding the pizza box into the fridge.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, pausing before any words could come out, a curious look crossing his face. He reached around Buck and grabbed two beers, handing one to Buck after he cracked them open. “You mean, thanks for the pizza. This was your idea, after all.”

It was Buck’s turn to look confused, swallowing a mouthful of beer as he pulled his phone out. “No, Eddie, pretty sure you sending me a message that said ‘game night, we’ll bring pizza’ was pretty clear.”

Eddie blinked as he looked at Buck’s phone—sure enough, the message was there plain as day, and he shot a curious look over to Chris, who was conked out on the couch. Buck followed his gaze, chuckling when he put two and two together, shaking his head. “Hey, go easy on him... after all, it’s not like I had any other plans.”

“Buck...”

“No, I’m serious.” Buck said, his face holding that soft, sweet grin. “After all, it’s... well, I like spending time with you. With, um, both of you I mean.” he murmured over the mouth of his beer bottle, pink raising in his cheeks as Eddie took a swig of his own. He didn’t trust himself to respond and instead linked his ankle with Buck’s beneath the table, trusting the gesture would say enough—and judging by the grin Buck shot him, the message was received loud and clear.

Unseen to either of them, Chris had a small smile on his face, peeking through his lashes as he watched the two from his space on the couch.

In retrospect, Buck probably should have asked what all was entailed in Career Day when Chris asked he and Eddie to show up to his school at 9am.

All he had expected was that he and Eddie would get to show the kids some of their tools, some of their gear, and then answer some questions. What he got was a room full of single moms (and dads) that were looking at Eddie like he was good enough to eat.

Which, let’s be real, Eddie was. Especially when he was partially suited up, PPE from the waist down, a 118 tee shirt, and the thick red suspenders to hold everything together. Saying he looked delicious was selling it short, but that didn’t mean Buck liked a room full of strangers being so blatant about it.

It was all he could do to stand back and not cause a scene as yet another mom walked up to Eddie and put her hand on his bicep, laughing at a joke far too loudly, for far too long. The only saving grace was the look that Eddie shot him while she had her head tossed back, rolling his eyes so hard that Buck thought he was going to hurt himself.

As Chris took his turn and made it up to the front of the class, Buck couldn’t deny feeling a little bit self conscious as he stood beside Eddie.

A room full of parents, with their kids, and then Buck.

He wasn’t jealous, okay?

And even if he was—

“This is my Dad, and this is my Buck! They’re firefighters!”

—Chris knocked that feeling out of him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as Chris started his presentation. A quick look at Eddie confirmed that he wasn’t the only one who caught the title, and he dipped his head with a little smile, not bothering to hide how pleased he was.

Pleased because he got to be Chris’ Buck. Not pleased because of the disappointed looks that he could see flicker across half of the single parents faces. Nope, that had nothing to do with it, and if it did, it was no secret that Chris was the real source of his joy.

“...they use their trucks and ladders to help keep us safe...”

Chris being an awesome kid was no surprise—Eddie was a great dad, okay?—but Buck still felt lucky that he got to see such a bright kid in his element like this, and even luckier that he got to help out whenever he could. He let his mind wander as Chris continued to speak, treading into dangerous territory. Chris had called him his Buck, so easily, like it was obvious, and for a moment Buck let himself wonder what it would sound like for Eddie to say the same.

“...and they’re super strong, too!”

Chris turned around, looking directly at Eddie, and Buck had to swallow a snort of a laugh as every eye in the room followed him. Eddie, to his credit, tried to save face, nodding his head. “Uh, we... workout every day?” he said, and Chris giggled as he looked over to Buck.

“Dad, you have to show them! Lift Buck up!”

Now it was Buck’s turn to feel every eye swivel over to him, and he was sure his face was bright red in record time. Was this part of the presentation? Did Chris mention this? Buck couldn’t be sure, but honestly, it didn’t exactly sound like something he would have agreed to. He caught Eddie’s eye and shrugged helplessly—after all, Eddie would be the one doing the heavy lifting, it was kind of out of his hands.

After a shared, barely-there nod, Eddie clapped his hands together, turning back to the class. “So, uh, this is called a fireman’s lift. It’s what we do when we have to carry someone out of a burning building, if they can’t walk out on their own. What we do is—“

“Have you ever had to do it before?” A blonde boy asked from the second row, his hand straight up in the air, eyes wide. His father, a corporate manager, didn’t look entirely pleased.

Eddie was all smiles, though, as he nodded and looked over to Buck. “We both have. Our job is to keep people safe, and this is the easiest way to do it.”

The clear hero worship may have helped Eddie become a little more comfortable, but for Buck, the situation didn’t matter—acting as a dead weight was always going to be a little weird. He sighed and opened his arms as Eddie stepped forward, and he was in the air before he could blink. He twisted his body as Eddie lifted so he could still face the class, focusing on Chris’ smile as his world went sideways.

If Buck thought it was awkward before, the dead silence that met him when Eddie spun around with Buck on his shoulders was completely deafening. It was all Buck could do to focus on keeping himself right side up, and not focus on the firm line of Eddie’s shoulders against his side, his strong hands on Buck’s thigh and wrapped around his arm—and thankfully Buck didn’t have long to follow that train of thought before there were twenty kids cheering for them, clapping wildly.

Okay, note to self; if you want to impress a room full of nine year olds, you just had to lift something heavy up.

Buck found himself smiling again, cheeks feeling permanently pink as Eddie brought him back down to the ground, turning to answer a few questions as they were swarmed with tiny bodies. He loved kids, he always had, and he was definitely in his element—but he couldn’t get the thought of Eddie’s hand on his thigh out of his mind.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when the weight of Eddie’s arm looped around his waist, effectively anchoring him and sending him into another galaxy as Chris’ teacher took a picture of the three of them together.

As Buck leaned into Eddie’s touch, he couldn’t help but look down to Chris, who very much looked like the cat that got the canary—and Buck was content to assume that it was because he obviously had the coolest Career Day presentation.

After all, getting your Dad to deadlift your Buck certainly blew any investment bankers or realty agents out of the water.

“You know, if you actually want to watch a movie, you have to press play on the remote.”

“Shove it, Eds.”

His words were snippy, but Buck was all smiles as Eddie joined him in the loft, plate in hand, passing Buck a burger and a huge plate of chips as he crashed on the couch beside him. Buck had been listening to the menu theme of some action DVD that Chim had picked out for the better part of a half hour as he scrolled through his phone, his attention quickly pulled to the food. “What’s wrong, Bobby kick you off the grill again? Made you realize there was more to life than being a meathead?” Buck said with a teasing smile, and Eddie found himself laughing in spite of himself.

“Well, actually, Carla sent me a few pictures of Chris on his class trip to the zoo today, and I was going to show you, but...”

“Hey, no, what? I think it’s awesome that you’re a middle aged grill dad, you look great with that spatula, now show me the pictures!” Buck said, immediately back tracking, his pride an easy thing to swallow whenever Chris being adorable was involved.

Eddie snorted as he handed over his phone, letting Buck swipe through the photos, and if he happened to be looking at Buck more than he was looking at the photos, well that was his own business. Buck, mercifully, was plenty distracted—the sight of Chris and a peacock would do that to anyone, Eddie had already set it as his wallpaper.

“Eddie, your kid is so fucking cute.” Buck said as he looked back up at Eddie, smiling as he tapped at Eddie’s screen, undoubtedly forwarding a few of the images to his own phone. Buck’s phone was only second to Eddie’s when it came to cute pictures of Chris, and if Eddie had more than three brain cells bouncing around in his skull, he probably would have looked a little more deeply into that.

Eddie pulled his phone back as another message came through, eyes flickering over the text message as Buck took a huge bite of the burger Eddie brought him.

“Hey Buck?”

“Mmmphhgghh?”

“Say cheese.”

“Ehh, muhnuie!”

The picture was pretty disgusting, honestly—Buck had a mouth fit to bursting of burger, sauce and ketchup smeared over his cheek, eyes wide as he turned to the camera. “What? Chris wanted to see what we were doing today.” Eddie said innocently, saving the picture to his camera roll before sending it to Carla’s phone.

“Dad I need selfies of you and Buck!”

The message from Carla came through easy enough, though it was clear that Chris had taken over, and Eddie was still laughing at Buck when he read the message aloud. Buck’s scandalized look didn’t go away as he finally swallowed, and Eddie knew he was in trouble the moment Buck reached for his phone, ready for retaliation.

He couldn’t complain when he suddenly had an arm full of Buck, laughing easily as Buck fired up his selfie camera, but his laughter quickly turned into a sound of absolute horror as he felt ketchup against his cheek when Buck smushed their faces together, camera shutter firing rapidly.

“You are disgusting!” Eddie finally got out between laughs, shoving Buck aside, who looked all too pleased with himself as he furiously tapped at Eddie’s phone, undoubtedly sending the pictures to Carla (and probably Maddie, and Abuela, and maybe his own phone too).

He had to admit, when he finally got his phone back and looked over the pictures, he was a little uncomfortable—not because of the content, but because he had never known he was so fucking obvious when he was looking at Buck. He hadn’t understood the term heart eyes until now, and it kicked his anxiety up just a little bit—he needed to work on his subtlety.

Then again, the next time he caught a glimpse of Buck’s phone, he was stunned to see that the picture of the two of them had made Buck’s wallpaper...

...maybe Chris was on to something with the whole selfies idea.

“Hey Buck?”

“What’s up, bud?”

They had just finished what Buck would not hesitate to call one of the best nights of his life—Eddie and Chris had shown up with a truck packed full of food, blankets, chairs, and a huge, colorful umbrella. Buck had worried that Chris would be less than thrilled to be near the ocean after the tsunami, but his fears were completely misplaced—Chris took to the beach like a crab, and Buck’s heart felt lighter than it ever had every time he heard Chris’ laughter, getting to the point where he actually deleted a few apps from his phone to take some more photos.

The icing on the cake, though, was Chris insisting that Buck could read him his bedtime story that night. Eddie looked completely betrayed, even as he insisted it was fine.

It was fucking hilarious.

“You love me, right?”

Buck felt his brows raise into his hairline, closing the book as he nudged Chris’ shoulders. “Course I love you, buddy. You’re my favorite little man.” He said softly, the initial spike of concern easing in his heart when he watched Chris break out into a grin. He should have known it was a trap, but Chris was so cute, so unassuming, so—

“And you love Daddy too, right?”

—so damn sneaky.

Buck swallowed once he regained his bearings, nodding his head, glad for the dim light of Chris’ room to hide his blush. “Course I do kiddo. You and your dad are both very important to me.” Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, if the scrunch of Chris’ face was anything to go by.

“But you love him too, right? You love me and Daddy?”

Putting the long forgotten book down on the night table beside Chris’ bed, Buck pulled his arm around the kid easily, pressing a kiss to his mess of curly hair. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that would come out was the truth. “Yeah, I love you and I love your dad too.” he murmured. It was the first time he had ever said that aloud before—and even as he felt his heart race, he felt lighter, to be able to get that off his chest, a secret that had been heavy on his heart for a long time.

“You should tell him that.”

Buck almost swallowed his tongue. Like he could sense his discomfort, Chris looked up, blinking owlishly without his glasses, a small smile on his lips. “It makes me happy when you tell me you love me. I bet it would make Daddy happy too.” he said with a little shrug, and Buck actually surprised himself with a little laugh.

“How did you get so smart, kid?”

Another kiss goodnight and Buck had the door shut behind him, walking on the balls of his feet as he returned to the kitchen, where Eddie was still scrubbing at a dish—and if that wasn’t enough of a red flag, the red tint to his cheeks and the way he shyly looked up at Buck told him all he needed to know. Shy was just not a typical look for Eddie.

“Edmundo Diaz, were you eavesdropping on your sons bedtime story?” Buck asked, his voice light and teasing, even as his face heated up. If Eddie had been listening in, there was no way to tell just how much he had heard, but while the thought usually pushed Buck into a spiral of despair, all he felt now was a strange sense of warmth.

Eddie looked up at him cautiously, chewing his lip. “What? It’s not my fault, I had to make sure the story you picked was up to his standards, and that you... did all the voices, and—“

“I meant it.”

Wow, fuck, Buck just blurted that out. He felt his jaw clamp shut as Eddie’s gaze snapped to him, Eddie’s eyes as wide as his own.

“Buck...”

“I’m serious, Eddie. I meant it, I... I mean it.” Buck’s feet are moving of his own accord, closing the distance between them until Buck could reach out and touch Eddie if he wanted. Well, if he could get his arms to respond. “You and Chris, you’re the most important people in the world to me, and... and I do, I love you. And I think, I think you love me too.”

Eddie couldn’t think, couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything other than move forward and pull Buck into his space completely. Their first kiss was a little rough—bumped noses, off center, but even then Eddie could feel fireworks—and when they reconnected, when Buck’s lips met his properly, it was all Eddie could do to remain upright.

He kept his hands around Buck when they pulled back to breathe, their foreheads resting against one another, and Eddie’s cheeks were literally hurting he was smiling so hard. Buck’s little laugh was all Eddie could hear, all he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life—so he couldn’t be blamed for failing to hear a pair of little feet leaving the kitchen, back through the hallway, or the nearly silent closing of Chris’ bedroom door.

Chris didn’t need to stick around to see the end result—adults were so gross—but he was pleased enough to see that his hard work and careful planning had paid off, knowing that his dad and his Buck would be happier than ever now that they were finally smooching (even if it had taken forever!).

His dads were a little slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but that was okay.

After all, Chris would be there to give them a little push whenever they needed.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #chris diaz #chris diaz is a little genius #chris diaz: professional matchmaker #buddie #buddie fic #911 #flospeaks #floanswers #mutually assured devotion #buckleydiazs

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losersclubbitches · 5 years

Text

ReaderxLoser(Richie Tozier)

You met Richie Tozier a week after what the Losers deemed “the Clown Incident”. You were messing with your yo-yo as you walked down the sidewalk and suddenly, another yo-yo string entangled with yours.

“Hey, asshole, watch where you’re swinging that thing!” you exclaimed, looking up to further scold whoever it was. You weren’t expecting to look into the deep eyes of a gorgeous pre-teen.

“Damn, rude much?” he spoke, giving you a smile full of huge, crooked teeth.

“Sorry. Not having a particularly good day,” you grumbled, sitting on a nearby bench. The kid sat next to you, since your yo-yos were still connected.

“Tell Granny what’s troubling you, child,” he voiced in what seemed to be an attempt at a sweet old lady voice, but turned out to be more like his regular voice. You laughed, wiping at the tears in your eyes.

“That’s an awful impression,” you informed him.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied. “But seriously, tell me what’s up.”

“I’m just sick of moving ‘cause of my mom’s stupid job. This is the sixteenth city I’ve been to and all of them have been on the stupid East coast. Have you ever been to Florida?” A head shake. “Well, don’t go. It sucks to live there. It’s hot and humid and there are way too many old people pinching your cheeks.” A laugh. “One day, I woke up to an alligator on our front porch! So not cool! And don’t get me started on New Jersey!” You spoke the state’s name in the local dialect. “I just want to move out to L.A.. Somewhere cool. But no. Mom’s stupid job brings her to stupid places like boring Derry, Maine,” you ranted. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the boy replied. “This town sucks major balls. But it’s not boring.”

“Really? What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened here?” you asked. “Little Timmy won a spelling bee?”

“It was a science fair, and no, actually. The weirdest thing that’s happened here was a series of murders every 27 years over the course about a year and a half, give or take,” he told you.

“What? Do they have any idea who’s doing it?” you inquired, eyes widening.

“Well, my friends and I know. It’s an interdimensional shape-shifting alien that feeds off fear and mostly takes the shape of a clown named Pennywise,” the kid informed. His tone was so natural and blank that you thought he was joking.

“Ha ha, asshole. Be serious.” You shoved his shoulder, laughing, but he didn’t laugh back. “Oh, my God, you are serious. That sounds like some shit out-”

“Of a horror movie, yeah,” he finished with you. “But it’s real. And we defeated IT.” You could practically hear the capitalization in his voice.

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath. “How’d you do it?”

“Stopped giving IT fear,” he explained. “Took away IT’s food source and sent IT down the well.” You looked at him and noticed tears in his eyes and a tremble in his body. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked. He nodded and you listened as he rambled on about Pennywise and the Losers and Neibolt and a werewolf. When he finished, tears were streaming down his face.

“I don’t wanna fight it again in 27 years,” he sobbed into your shoulder, clenching and unclenching his bandaged hand.

“Look, uh. “You stumbled as you realized you didn’t know his name.

“Richie. Richie Tozier,” he introduced, sticking out his uninjured hand. You shook it.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you stated. “Anyway. Look, Richie, from what you’ve told me, I don’t think IT’ll come back. I think you guys defeated IT.”

“You willing to bet money on that notion, Y/N?” Richie goaded, smirking.

“50 bucks seems fair, Richie Tozier,” you challenged, sticking out your hand again.

“Fair indeed, Y/N Y/L/N.” You two shook on it. Richie’s watch beeped and he checked the time. “Shit. I’m gonna be late. C’mon, Y/N! We’ll figure out the yo-yos when we get there!” Richie pulled you up and dragged you off in the opposite direction of home. You followed willingly and ended up at the edge of a hill, looking down into what you’d heard the locals call “the Quarry”. There was a group of kids sitting at the bottom of the hill. Richie waved to them, then started down the hill. He lost his footing and fell. taking you with him by your tangled yo-yo strings. You both tumbled, head over heels and side over side, down the hill until you got to the bottom. Somehow, seemingly impossibly, the yo-yo strings had become even more knotted up, trapping you and Richie together by your wrists.

“Well, that was exciting!” you exclaimed, sitting up.

“Let’s do it again!” Richie also exclaimed. You looked over and noticed a slight crack in his glasses, which sat askew on his face. You laughed and pulled a leaf from his hair, also readjusting his glasses.

“Are you guys okay?” a boy with curly hair asked.

“I think I bit my tongue. Is it bleeding?” Richie asked you, sticking out his tongue. You leaned forward to examine it.

“Not really. Am I bleeding?” You stuck your arms out toward him like Frankenstein’s Monster. You noticed there was a small stick embedded in your arm about four inches from your wrist.

“Holy shit!” Richie cursed, grabbing your arm. The boy behind him, short with brown hair and eyes, looked over Richie’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” he chanted frantically, grabbing at an inhaler and using it. You instantly knew who he was based on Richie’s story.

“You must be Eddie.”

“Yeah. That’s me,” he confirmed. “Who are you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced. “I’d shake your hand, but Richie said you’re a germophobe.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“That doesn’t matter right now, Eddie,” the curly-haired boy quipped. “We need to get that stick out of Y/N’s arm before it gets infected.”

“Thanks, Stan-Man, but I’ve got it.” You pulled the stick from your arm and tossed it into the water. Your arm started to bleed and you placed a thumb over it. “You got any bandaids in that fanny pack of yours, Eds?” you asked. Eddie just stared at you with a look of pure shock and disgust. Stan snapped his fingers in Eddie’s face.

“Focus, Eddie. She’s bleeding out over here.” Eddie flashed back to reality and dug around in his fanny pack until he located a bandaid. He also grabbed out a pack of wet wipes and moved to kneel in front of you.

“I’m gonna clean your arm off so your cut doesn’t get infected,” he explained. You nodded, just wanting to get it over with. Eddie scrubbed at the dirt on and around your contusion and you watched, barely wincing at all. Once the area was cleaned to Eddie’s liking, he unwrapped the bandaid and placed it gently, yet securely, on your arm.

“Thanks, Eds,” you expressed, pressing a kiss yo his cheek. Eddie blushed and Richie squawked offendedly.

“Hey! I saw Y/N first!” he declared. “She’s gonna be my future wife!” You laughed and gripped his hand, the one entangled with yours.

“That’s cute, but we just met. I don’t even know your middle name,” you told him jokingly.

“It’s Wentworth. After my dad,” Richie responded.

“Richie Wentworth Tozier,” you repeated, tasting the name on your tongue. “Cool.”

“Thanks. Now! Dr. K! Fix us up, will ya!” Richie shouted in what you assumed was supposed to be a British Voice. You giggled.

“Richie, shut up,” Eddie groaned. “I’m getting to it. Mike, you’re good with string and knots. Think you can untangle Trashmouth from the innocent bystander unlucky enough as to be wrapped up with him?”

“Hey!” Richie protested, but Eddie and Mike ignored him. Mike examined the knot.

“Yeah. This is easy to undo,” he told Eddie, starting on the string.

“Richie was right. You are as handsome as a magazine man,” you affirmed, winking. Mike blushed and focused back on the knot.

“H-how much d-d-did you t-tell her R-Richie?” asked a kid with auburn hair.

“Relax, Big Bill. I’m great at keeping secrets,” you assured. “Besides, who’s gonna believe me? My mom gets one word about a child-eating, interdimensional, shape-shifting alien and she locks me in the loony bin for brain evals.” All the others looked at Richie in shock and Richie looked sheepish.

“I had to tell someone. Besides, she asked and I needed someone to cry on,” he defended with a shrug.

“He cried?” Stan asked, looking to you.

“He cried,” you affirmed. “Soaked my shirt pretty well.” The others looked between you and Richie skeptically.

“What? I’m a sensitive guy!” Richie protested. Stan snorted.

“Yeah. The resident Trashmouth is a sensitive guy. Mike, you almost got that knot undone?” he asked. Mike gave one more tug and the strings separated, falling from your now red wrists. “You and Richie both rubbed at the abrasions, happy to be apart.

“Thanks, Mikey.” You kissed his cheek as well, earning another squawk from Richie and a slight gasp from Stan.

“It’s like you’re trying to make me jealous,” Richie exclaimed.

“Maybe I am,” you answered teasingly, smirking at him. He squawked again and crossed his arms, turning away from you childishly.

“Uncross your arms, you dope. I need to fix up your wounds,” Eddie scolded, pulling at Richie’s arm. Richie huffed and held his arms out for Eddie to look at. The boy made quick work of cleaning Richie’s arms and face, but when he got even close to the cuts, Richie whimpered and cringed away.

“Stop being a baby and woman up,” you scoffed, earning you a cheer from Beverly. You smiled at her. Richie looked at you with pure surprise and something like love. When Eddie had finished patching Richie up, he did the same thing to you, muttering to himself the whole time. You didn’t flinch, just sat stock still as Eddie bandaged your cuts.

“Perfect. You’re all done, Y/N,” Eddie told you, putting the wet wipes and bandaid wrappers in a plastic bag to throw away later.

“Thanks, Eds.” You kissed his cheek again and he reddened, mumbling a “you’re welcome” as he zipped his fanny pack. You looked at your watch and cursed. “Shit. I gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

“W-we hang o-out a-ah-hat eight every d-day,” Bill told you.

“Cool.” You started to leave, but turned back. “Hey, Rich?”

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up from a cartoon-printed bandaid. You cupped the sides of his face and planted a lingering kiss to his lips. He kissed back, loosely draping his arms over your shoulders. You pulled back and smiled at him.

“Thanks for making this town not boring,” you whispered.

“Anytime,” he replied. You turned and left, calling over your shoulder as you did.

“Pick me up tomorrow at eight by the bench!”

***

You hung out with the Losers all summer and beyond. You either swam or hing out at the Quarry most of the summer. When school started, you saw them almost as much, though it was mostly studying in either the clubhouse or one of your houses and complaining about homework and teachers. You and Richie got closer, seeing as after the kiss, you both decided to date. You went on your dates mostly at the arcade and you beat him in Street Fighter, though sometimes you let him win. In high school, you grew even closer to him; you were each other’s first in the backseat of his shitty car on his seventeenth birthday. You watched the other Losers pair off: Ben and Bev, Mike and Stan, and Bill and a girl from his class named Nicole. You figured Bill and Nicole wouldn’t last, as they were going to schools on near opposite sides of the country and Bill was too flighty to be tied down by a long distance relationship. You and Richie, however, were going to the same school; you finally got to go to California and you were happy your boyfriend was going with you.

“So, wait, is Eddie-Spaghetti the only one still single?” Richie asked one day as you all were sitting in the clubhouse; you and Richie sharing the hammock.

“Leave him alone, Rich,” you scolded, noticing Eddie’s red cheeks. About a month ago, Eddie had confided in you about his boyfriend of one year, saying he’d needed the clubhouse for a “special anniversary gift”. He didn’t know how you’d react and had started crying, scared you’d laugh at him or tell the other Losers or even his mother he was gay. Instead, you’d puled him into your arms and assured him you’d find a way to keep the others out of the clubhouse for as long as he’d need. He’d promised to call you when he was done, just so you’d know. You’d invited the Losers to your house that afternoon for games and Eddie had politely declined, saying he had bunches of homework. He’d smiled at you and you’d smiled back; your own secret language. When he’d called later that night, you’d listened while he talked about what had happened(sparing certain details) throughout the night.

“I’m just saying. It’s senior year and we’ve all found someone,” Richie piped, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Maybe we can set Eddie-Spaghetti up, too. I know a few girls who might be his type.”

“You clearly don’t know my type, then, Trashmouth,” Eddie snipped. The other Losers looked at him.

“Wait, Eddie are you-” Stan was cut off by Richie.

“C’mon, Eds. You don’t even know what they look like,” he started. “You gotta at least see the cover before you judge.” Eddie huffed and stood up, brushing off his shorts and climbing out of the clubhouse.

“Don’t call me Eds, asshole,” he grumbled.

“What’d I say?” Richie asked, looking to you. You just climbed out of the hammock, using Richie as a balance, and left. As you passed him, Stan looked up at you.

“He’s...?” He gestured to Mike and himself subtly. You nodded and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah. He is,” you confirmed. You kissed Mike’s cheek as well before climbing out of the clubhouse. You found Eddie just a few feet away, sat on the ground with his knees to his chest. Before you could even get a word in, he spoke.

“He’s just so oblivious sometimes.”

“I know,” you replied, sitting next to him. “He is my boyfriend, after all.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Eddie joked. You both laughed for a moment before settling.

“You know, Richie’s the only one who didn’t understand your comment, but the others aren’t gonna say anything until you tell them,” you reminded him.

“I guess I’ve just been scared about coming out to people I know. My mom would flip if she knew I’m gay,” Eddie admitted.

“I know, hon. But we’re not like that. You remember when Stan and Mike came out?”

“Yeah. Stan started crying and we all hugged him,” Eddie recalled.

“So what makes you think we’ll do anything less for you. Eddie?” you questioned. Eddied bottom lip quivered as he thought it over and tears dripped down his rosy cheeks. You cooed and pulled him into a hug. Other than maybe Beverly, you were the most protective of the whole group. They were like your kids and crying kids needed comfort. You ran your fingers through Eddie’s soft, brown hair and shushed him gently. Once his tears stopped flowing and his body stopped shaking, he pulled away and looked at you.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he expressed.

“No problem, Eds. You ready?” He nodded and took your hand when you offered it for him to stand up. You led the way back into the clubhouse and Eddie stopped at the bottom of the ladder.

“You guys, I have something to tell you,” he spoke, attracting the attention of the Losers. You climbed back into the hammock and pinched Richie when he opened his mouth.

“Go on, Eds. We’re listening,” you said, smiling at Eddie. Eddie smiled back and took a deep breath.

“I’m gay!” he blurted, starting to ramble. “I’ve known I’m gay for ten years and I have a boyfriend named Nick and I really like him and I really don’t want you guys to hate me.” Tears streaked down his face again and he crossed his arms over his chest, curling in on himself. Beverly stood up from her place in Ben’s lap and rushed over to hug him. The others weren’t far behind.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Bev soothed, smoothing down Eddie’s hair. Richie was sitting stock still, mouth open slightly.

“Close your mouth, babe. You look like a fish,” you told him, pecking the corner of his mouth. That seemed to resonate, because he blinked himself out of his stupor, turning to look at you.

“You knew?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He needed my help to get you guys out of the clubhouse for the day so he could bring his boyfriend here,” you explained.

“Is that why there were candles down here and the place smelled like apples?” You nodded. “What’d they do?” You zipped and locked your lips, throwing away the key.

“I am sworn to secrecy, Richie Tozier,” you replied. Richie smirked.

“I know how to unzip those lips, Y/N Y/L/N,” he teased, leaning forward and capturing your lips. He continued that way until your back hit the hammock and he was between your legs, one hand pressed to your midsection to keep you in place.

“G-g-gross, you g-guys,” Bill chimed.

“Yeah. Get a room,” Stan added. Richie picked you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. He clambered out of the hammock awkwardly and carried you out of the clubhouse, stopping at the bottom of the ladder first.

“Congrats, Eds. You’re super brave for coming out,” he praised. “But I gotta get a secret out of this one.” He lifted you slightly and you giggled. Needless to say, he tried, but your lips were sealed(about the secret; not much else, though).

***

When IT returned 27 years after you’d first met Richie, you two were married. You still vaguely remembered the Losers, as Derry’s full power didn’t work on you. It was the middle of the day when you got the call and everything came back.

“Y/N, it’s Mike from Derry,” Mike introduced himself.

“Mike, hey. How’s Stan? You two still together?” you greeted.

“Yeah. We are. He’s fine. He’s an accountant here in Derry and I’m the librarian,” Mike told you. There was something in his voice that worried you.

“I’m guessing you didn’t call after 20 years just to chat about jobs with an old friend?” you remarked, wanting to get to the point.

“No, it’s not,” Mike replied. “Is Richie there with you, Y/N?”

“He’s at work, but I can call him, too,” you told Mike, already dialing Richie’s number to add to the call. He picked up on the third ring.

“What’s up, babe? I’m in the middle of a show, but it’s on commercial, so I’ve got a few,” he greeted you.

“Rich, Mike from Derry’s here, too,” you told your husband. “He has some news, baby.”

“Okay.” Richie sounded skeptical. “What’s up?”

“Guys, IT’s back,” Mike said and again you could hear the capitalization in his voice. Your breath hitched and you nearly dropped the phone.

“I really should’ve bet more on that,” Richie joked and you laughed slightly.

“Yeah. I thought IT was dead, Mikey,” you stated.

“So did I. But the killings have started again. They started with the murder of Adrien Mellon and there have been several others so far. We’ve got to kill IT for real this time,” Mike responded.

“Richie, baby are you okay?” you inquired of your husband. After his joke, you only knew he was there because of his heavy breathing.

“Y-yeah. We’ll be there, Mike,” Richie panted. “I gotta get back to the show.” With that, Richie hung up.

“We’ll be there by tomorrow, Mikey,” you told Mike. “Give my best to Stanny.” You hung up as well and started to pack bags for you and Richie and booked the soonest flight for after Richie would get home. When you got to Derry, memories came flooding back to you at once: the bench where you and Richie had first met, the Quarry, your old house, everything. When you saw Bev, you saw her bruises and her shaky way of talking about her so-called “wonderful husband”. You pulled her into the girls’ bathroom.

“Bev, I know you’re lying,” you told her. “Tom isn’t a good husband.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N,” Bev protested.

“Look, Bev. I can see the bruises on your arms. The boys can, too, but they’re not gonna say anything,” you countered. Bev sighed heavily, tears dripping down her face.

“I don’t know. I married someone who treats me how I deserve,” she admitted.

“Bevvy, I’m calling bullshit on that. There’s a good man out there who’ll treat you like you really deserve: a goddamned princess,” you refuted. Bev gave you a confused look. “Ben, hon. He’s been in love with you since we were eleven. January Embers.”

“I thought Bill wrote that poem,” Bev gasped you shook your head. Bev smiled, hugged you, and left the bathroom. You smiled and then dragged in Stan. He looked very uncomfortable.

“Stan, I know you have concerns about facing IT again,” you started. Stan cringed.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“First of all, you cringe when anyone even starts to mention IT.” Another cringe. “And you’ve been so nervous you haven’t eaten. So go home, take a calm, warm shower, and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” you instructed.

“But what are you gonna tell Mike and the others?” Stan inquired.

“I’ll tell them the truth: I’m taking your place. Now, send Eddie in, please. We need to talk, too.” A minute later, Eddie was in front of you, looking just as uncomfortable as Stan, if not more.

“What’s up, Y/N?” he asked, eyes shifting awkwardly.

“You’re gay,” you told him, ignoring his squawk. “You’re gay, so why did you marry a woman?”

“I.” Eddie paused, unsure. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

“Exactly. And do I even need to bring up the fact that you basically married your mom?” you pointed out. Eddie shook his head.

“What do I do?” he questioned.

“Break up with her and live with us,” you offered. “Don’t go back after this, just send her the papers. We’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Eddie hugged you tightly.

“No problem, baby boy.”

You defeated IT for good this time and everyone survived and moved into the same neighborhood as you and Richie were in. Bill finally finished a novel properly, Ben and Bev got married and had two kids, Stan and Mike adopted, and Eddie married a man named Tyler and adopted a Pomeranian, which freaked Richie out at first. All in all, life was good and everyone got the ending they deserved.

@gracelynns, I hope you liked it! Feel free to request anything else, I love writing for y’all!

#richie tozier #readerxloser #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanley uris #it 2019 #it 2017 #request please #request #canon compliant #mostly

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