1 - 20 of 27 Works by wordsinbetween
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Light in the Storm by wordsinbetween for kcc
Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)
14 Jul 2020
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The snow is already sticking to the sidewalks, gathering on the windshields of the cars parked out front. Eddie pushes the snow off his shoulders and takes off his beanie, slapping it against his thigh with a frown. He shoves the hat in his coat pocket and smiles at the receptionist.
“Hi!” She says, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Did you two have an appointment, or are you just having a look around?”
“Just takin’ a peek,” Richie says, untucking his scarf. “The dogs are that way?”
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He doesn’t notice the sheet of paper taped to the cat owner’s window until the evening sun is about to set.
Your dog is beautiful, it reads in big capital letters.
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take me there by wordsinbetween for oxfordlunch
Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)
11 Jun 2020
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Richie keeps walking down the aisle, searching for his grand prize. Ah! Yes. He looks between his options carefully, smiling to himself as he thinks about which Eddie would probably hate the least.
Series
- Part 3 of the way home
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They walk along the coast at what would be an easy pace on a more reasonable day. Bill struggles to keep up with Mike’s long stride, pushed in all directions by the indecisive wind. It sweeps across the ocean’s surface and whips his hair into his eyes, plastering it against his forehead as it starts to sprinkle.
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“You wanna go for a walk?” Richie asks a little while later, lounging in a chair on the back porch.
Eddie pauses in the doorframe, poking his head outside. “Where?”
“Mike told me there’s a stream at the edge of his property.” Richie points out across the back field. “He said there’s a little walking path and a bench.”
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“Why are you working today again?”
Eddie sighs and mutters something that sounds like 'why did you turn the radio up so loud when you clearly want to have this conversation again.' Richie ignores him and starts to hum along to Journey.
“Next weekend is the Fourth of July, and I’m already taking Friday off so we can help your sister get her backyard ready.”
Series
- Part 2 of the way home
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Richie looks up when the man from the garage walks into the room. He barely registers the question. His mind is buzzing immediately. The guy’s fucking beautiful.
Series
- Part 1 of the way home
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Eddie looks just as ravaged as Richie feels and it’s. Well. He looks fucking beautiful, if Richie’s being honest. His cheeks are flushed red and his hair is a sweaty mess, falling down towards his eyes. He’s fucking breathtaking.
Or: It's been three months since Richie slept with the president, and it's all he's been able to think about. They're in London for a political summit. Things escalate. Again.
Series
- Part 2 of Kaspbrak/Hanlon 2016
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“I don’t want to talk about numbers,” Eddie says as he steps into Richie’s space, using his tie as leverage to pull himself closer. Eddie’s breath is hot on his throat now. The papers still in his hand fall to the ground, immediately forgotten.
Or: President Eddie Kaspbrak has just won his reelection campaign, and he's in need of some company. Luckily, his Deputy Chief of Staff is still in the building.
Series
- Part 1 of Kaspbrak/Hanlon 2016
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this empty southern hemisphere by wordsinbetween
Fandoms: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
29 Jan 2020
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Richie and Bill are on the press tour for their new movie, but Richie misses Eddie so much it hurts.
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The deadlights. All he can see is the deadlights. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes, afraid they’ll be right above him again.
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It's only their third mission back since she suddenly asked for a week off, since she called him and said, "Andrew and I got married on Friday."
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After a while, one of them would leave a hand outstretched on the mattress, waiting for the other to take it softly in the night. He’s held her hand in more than a dozen countries, protected by the safety and anonymity of the darkness.
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She's lived through so many realities in such a short amount of time that she can't quite remember what a real spring day feels like, smells like. Heavy metal doors and steel walls sealed against the cold of space have locked her in from all sides for what feels like a lifetime. Digital boundaries, constructed by her worst fears. The pressure of the ocean, caught by warm hands but the comfort provided by them quickly replaced by adrenaline injected straight into her bloodstream. Survival.
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In some weirdly fortunate way, all the horrors they’ve faced have been real. She’s real. She’s here, standing right in front of him, and he has no idea where to start.
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They shouldn’t be here; with her wound reopening every day and his chest aching as he moves through the dark, stale hallways of the station. He misses pie; an unopened bottle of Haig.
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He watches bottle rockets explode in the sky above their lonely home, surrounded by fields empty of human touch.
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Collection of all my short little Barisi ficlets and drabbles that I've written over the last few months. Lots of fluff. Some heartache. More domestic fluff. Some bar shenanigans. Anything and everything imaginable.
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Some days, everything is fine.
Some days, Usnavi opens up the store and goes through the inventory, ordering what they don’t have in stock. He leaves Sonny in charge of the register while he walks down the block to grab them some lunch, wiping the sweat from his brow as the August sun beats down on the city.
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Barba really, really likes it when Sonny wears his police jacket.