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theboardwalkbody · 1 year

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Tentatively Titled: Bear With Me Fandom: The Bear Authors Notes: Below the cut is the first half of a chapter for a The Bear fic I had started. I planned on finishing this chapter but I am feeling sick so I can't concentrate but I wanted to have this out there before s2 blows it all out of the water. It is inspired by a tiktok clip of another restaurant-based movie I can't remember the name of at the moment.

Right now it is written as 'You' and not OC but I was considering changing that to flesh them out more instead of needing to keep things vague (I dont feel it sits right to give You-characters any details if they're supposed to be for any and all readers). So yeah - this 'You' has background info and details so thinking about naming them later.

Its also general/no-pairing in this part (again, its only half a chapter) but it is intended to become a fic with a main pairing with Carmy. (Honestly it was supposed to start in the second half of this chapter but I really dont feel good and the screen hurts to look at).

So anyway, enjoy this little snippet - if anyone wants more I'll see what I can do - but s2 may make me abandon idk lol

The Original Beef underwent renovations and re-opened as The Bear. Among the changes instituted by Carmen Berzatto was the addition of a larger dining room which opened up a couple positions for servers. Having decided to go back to college you needed a part-time job in order to be able to keep up with your car payments, online streaming subscriptions, and other pesky things like groceries and rent after having to leave your full-time position due to lack of flexibility. After a month of being denied from over a dozen places you put your application in to this recently renovated restaurant across town expecting to be denied like the others, but to your surprise, you were called back within the day. So you began making the thirty-five minute commute from your place to work four times a week. The work was as expected: wait tables, clean up, help answer phones, take payments; five star customer service. What wasn't expected was the atmosphere.

You've worked customer service and retail for a decade. You thought you had beaten your social anxiety, at least enough to function at work, but it was proving difficult to manage lately. You tried lying to yourself; its just new job jitters, made worse by having been out of the customer service (at least in public) game for a couple years and instead sitting in a small cubicle reading over insurance claims. At least that's what you told them. In reality you were a vocational nurse for the last three years but you felt that if you put that on your resume you would be overlooked and you were too desperate to be without pay until someone would hire you. You knew the truth, however, behind the anxiety. It was the constant exposure to one of your worst triggers: Yelling. Specifically, men yelling. You were on edge constantly. Always wondering when the yelling would start - the kitchen staff often yelled to each other - and dreading the days when you worked the same shift as Richie. The manager was the worst offender, it was as if he only had one volume setting. Even when the yelling wasn't hostile it was still stressful. You would remain hypervigilant and tune in to hear every word from anywhere in the restaurant so you would be prepared if the yelling ever took on a aggressive tone, to be prepared if things ever became violent.

You stayed quiet for the most part. The rest of the staff started calling you "our very own kitchen mouse". That you didn't mind, you honestly thought it was pretty cute. The thing that did bother you, nearly constantly, was your damn stomach. The anxiety causing you to feel nauseous nearly every day. Add in to that feeling tired nearly all the time between classes, having work, and the fact that the anxiety on work nights would not let you sleep at all.

A month of this was taking its toll on you. You weren't sure how much longer you would be able to stay here.

It was a Friday night. It was busier than normal and there seemed to be a constant stream of incidents. A jammed receipt printer causing a customer to become short with you, a customer trying to call in to place a to-go order but the call being dropped multiple times until they eventually gave up but not before calling back one more time to blame the inconvenience on you, a customer knocking their glass off the table and you needing to clean it while not falling behind on your tables. You blamed it on the full moon.

"Order in for Table 4, Chefs," you announced, placing the order ticket in the line of others, and walking back out to check in on your other tables.

Walking back out to the dining room you were suddenly met with calls of 'hey waitress!' and snapping.

You rolled your eyes and groaned internally before turning towards the sound and plastering a smile on your face. Walking over to the table you asked, "Yes, sir, how can I help you?" "This is cold, I need you to take it off my bill," the man said.

You looked down at the plate - a pasta and meat dish that was very obviously nearly finished - and then back at the customer.

"I am sorry to hear that, sir. I can offer you a new plate, but I can not comp the meal. If it was unsatisfactory when you received it you should have let someone know, I can not take the meal off with it having been more than halfway eaten. I apologize," you explained. "What if I didn't eat it?" the man snapped. "I'm sorry, sir?" you weren't following. "I said - What if I didn't eat it? What if I am telling you that I threw the rest of it out and that is just what is left stuck to the plate." he countered. "Again, sir, I apologize but at this point I can not --"

The man began arguing. Obviously unhappy with you not giving in to his demands he started shouting and insulting you. You felt your face get hot with anxiety and your stomach was bad enough you felt like you were about to vomit. You started chewing on the inside of your cheek and your eyes stung as he called you names and belittled you. You were glued to the spot unable to muster up the courage to turn and walk away, worried it would make matters worse. The last straw was the man reaching across the table, grabbing your hand, and placing it in his dish of partially eaten food.

"Doesn't that feel cold to you? You incompetent bitch?" he yelled at you.

Trembling you pulled your hand out of the food and grabbed the dish. You picked it up and with a cracked voice replied, "sorry, sir, I'll take care of it," before turning and walking the dish back to the kitchen.

The tears stung your eyes and you tried not to blink, knowing if you did they would fall. You tried to remain professional. You were so lost in your own anxious thoughts that it was almost as if you could hear nothing as you walked to the kitchen.

'Your fault, your fault, your fault,' circled around in your head drowning out everything else.

You pushed the doors open and placed the dish down near the sink. You couldn't comp the meal, despite anything you said to the man to placate him. You figured you would pay for it yourself that way he would stop yelling and you wouldn't have to involve Carmen, who was currently acting as head chef and manager since Richie was running late. Something you had been grateful for up until now.

You were about to make your way to the restroom to wash the pasta sauce off your hands and wipe your eyes, thinking no one even noticed you come in to the kitchen at all, when you heard Carmen's voice call out,

"Why is she crying?"

You were pretty sure you were going to pass out. All eyes turned towards you now.

Manny was closest to you and now that he was paying attention he noticed how red and watery your eyes were and asked, "you okay, Mouse?" He caught a glimpse of the red sauce on your hand and mistook it for blood as he suddenly called out, "She's bleeding! Grab the first aid kit its bad!"

'Fuck,' you cursed in your head. The tears started flowing now. Being asked if you were okay was the surefire way to get the dam to burst no matter how hard you tried to keep it up.

"No! Not! I'm fine," you said, but your voice sounded anything but fine. "It's not blood!"

"What happened, mama?" Tina asked leaving her station to approach you. Her voice was sweet and caring, she gingerly took your red soaked hand in hers.

You stepped back and insisted, "It's just sauce. It's nothing, really, everything's OK, I just need a second." With that you turned to leave and pretend you were going to use the restroom but instead you wiped your hand on your dark jeans and snuck out of the restaurant and around the back to sneak back into the far end of the kitchen and sit in the freezer. The cold would help take away the burning feeling you felt and calm you down - something you learned during your several month position at a grocery store deli.

You ducked into the freezer and sat on a crate in the corner full of yet-to-be-unpacked food. You just needed a minute, you told yourself, then you would be back up and get back out there. You focused on taking deep breaths and wiped your eyes.

The freezer door opened after a few moments and you cursed yourself for hiding in here. You had no excuse for why you would need to be in here and evidently you took too long, you should have left already. You looked up and saw Carmen walk in and look around until he found what he was looking for - you. He walked up to you and crouched down across from you.

"What happened?" he asked, you could see his breath as he spoke. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep off some of the cold. "I'm sorry, I just needed a second to cool down," you answered, your own breath dancing in the cold air. "That's fine, you can take as long as you need, just please tell me what's wrong," he assured. "It's so stupid," you admitted, but it made you start crying harder.

Carmen stayed quiet a moment, letting you catch your breath, but his silence allowed you to open up and explain what had happened. When you finished your retelling of the situation he stood, extended his hand which you accepted, and slowly guided you out of the freezer. Without a word he began to lead you out to the dining room as you wiped your face to dry it of the tears.

Crossing back through the kitchen you and him caught the attention of the rest of the crew. As you passed the front door Richie happened to walk in, finally making his appearance.

"Yo, Cuz, what's happening?" he asked, his voice already above casual speaking volume. Carmen ignored him and kept leading you.

Stopping at the edge of the dining room he dropped your hand. "Who?" he asked. "Please, forget it, Chef, I took care of it." you insisted. "Who?" he repeated. You could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn't in the mood to ask again so you pointed to the customer in question.

You watched as Carmen approached the customer who berated you. He pulled a chair over from the next table over and sat at the table where the aggressive customer was sitting with a group of other men, and began talking to him. You couldn't hear their conversation over the noise of a full dining room but you could tell that neither of the men were enjoying their conversation. Noticing the scene unfolding many other customers stopped in their conversations and turned their attention towards Carmen and the other man. The volume in the room dying down enough that you could now make out what was being said by Carmen. He stood now, and his voice raised to assert himself.

"Apologize to her." he said. The man at the table laughed heartily. "No, I have nothing to apologize for."

Carmen, unsatisfied with the man's response, gathered up the tablecloth until all the dishes and drinks were bundled up in a pile of cloth in the center of the table. "You can see yourself out." "Who do you think you are?" the man shouted, "go get me your manager." "I'm the fucking owner. Get out." Carmen asserted.

The man huffed but at the encouragement of his bewildered companions he rose, grabbed his suit jacket, and left. The dining room erupted in applause. Carmen turned back to look at you, and you, embarrassed but also very impressed by his actions, turned away from him. You saw Richie behind you, having watched the scene play out, and you could see the crew peaking their heads out from the kitchen as well. Carmen came up to you and said, "can you meet me in the office?"

Doing as he asked you walked away. You just barely caught him barking orders at the others, Richie to cover your tables, Sydney to take charge for a bit, and the others to get back to their stations.

#the bear #the bear fic #carmy x reader #carmy x oc #unfinished #bear with me i dont feel well

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sunshinereddie · 2 years

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i need richie and eddie to get into a college roommate situation where they find each other on craigslist and they only move in together because the rent is going to clean their bank accounts if they don’t find someone to live with.

when they first start living together, it’s kind of awkward. richie is a bit too loud and extroverted for eddie’s liking, so eddie spends most of his time alone in his room. richie was glad to finally have a roommate so that he wouldn’t be so alone all the time, and he gets kinda grumpy when his cute roommate never leaves his room.

richie doesn’t mind having eddie as a roommate. eddie likes to do the cleaning, and sure there are passive-aggressive remarks here and there about richie’s way of living, but nothing richie can’t handle with his own sharp tongue.

the one thing that richie does notice, though, is eddie’s eating habits. all of the takeout containers from that ‘health bar’ down the street in their garbage and the fact that the only time richie has ever seen eddie in the kitchen is when he’s making coffee, richie thinks it can’t be good to constantly live off of takeout, especially if eddie’s only eating those kinds of meals that are marketed as ‘healthy’ but are crazy expensive.

richie considers himself a decent cook, his parents had taught him a good few recipes before he moved out and he’s always been comfortable in the kitchen. so one night richie makes extra of the meal he’s making himself for dinner, and when it’s ready he goes and knocks on eddie’s door. when he hears eddie’s ‘come in’, richie opens the door and places the plate of food on eddie’s desk. “i accidentally made too much,” he lies. “thought you might like some.”

at first, eddie is surprised. this is the same guy who leaves his socks on the living room floor and annoys eddie with his loud music and makes digs at eddie’s extensive weekend cleaning routine- and now he’s making eddie dinner? eddie accepts the food, and he’s even more surprised at how delicious it is.

not too long after, eddie stops eating in his room. whether it’s takeout or something richie cooked, the two start eating their meals at the kitchen table (that before was pretty much never used) together. eventually, richie starts cooking dinner for two every night. eddie tries to help, once, but richie soon realizes why eddie always ordered takeout for himself, and tells eddie to stick to just cleaning the dishes.

eddie finds a certain comfort in richie’s food. growing up, the meals that his mother would make him would be bland, boring, and lazily thrown together. but richie’s food was delicious, made with care, and it tasted even better when the two of them ate together. it isn’t long after that that eddie realizes that it’s not just richie’s cooking that he finds comfort in, but richie’s voice, asking how he’s feeling after a long day. richie’s laugh, contagious and instantly being able to brighten eddie’s mood. richie’s touch, when his fingers gently brush eddie’s as he shows eddie the correct way to chop an onion. just… richie.

maybe having a roommate isn’t so bad after all.

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #reddie hc #reddie headcanon #it #it au #it hc #it 2017 #it 2019

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misszura · 2 years

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It fandom 🎈

If i didn't had this ask, i would have deleted my account.

(No, but still)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) : it depend on the moment, but probably Henry or Patrick.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) : Stan. Definitely Stan. He is my baby. That's all.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/ underappreciated fave) : in the fandom, Mike is like always forgotten, give him some love and credit. Dude gave his life for the safety of Derry, and all he had in return is that Ben stole most of his character in the last adaptation. He deserve that peopl know his story, and his family story. How his father saved people from the fire of the black spot, how this same man just make Butch Bowers shut the fuck up, and how this man is a good father. We deserve to know everything about Mike and his family.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won't shut up about it for a week) : Belch. This kid isn't really present in the movies, exepte that he belches and drive the car. In the book, he is the most loyal friend you could have, and he is really tall. I love him, he deserves the world.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/ unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) :Henry. This kid has my heart. I mean his father is an ass, and he has so much problems to deal with (Patrick is one of them). Plus the fact i read fanfiction about him... (go read "when you say my name" on AO3, i started to really like him when I read it) give him some rest.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) : Richie or Eddie. I mean on of my fav fic, all fandom taken, is called "a lot of marshmallows" and really, it's almost only angst (go read it too)

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) : almost every parental figure. Like Butch Bowers, Sonia Kaspbrak, monsieur Marsh (i forgot his name) i mean, they're humans and they're bad people. (At least pennywise is an alien, he's like an animal acting with instinct) and in the 2017' movie mister keene is a disgusting guy too, so him too.

#it 2017 #bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #richie trashmouth #it stephen king #zurask #fanfiction reference

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feelingisshit · 3 years

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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.

#stanley uris x reader #stanley uris #it #it chapter two #it fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #mike hanlon #it chapter one #pennywise #shit's fics

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

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speechless // h.p

Summary: Can you do a Harry Potter x reader where reader is exactly like Richie Tozier and she defends him from Draco and his Slytherins? And Harry falls in love with her from then and everyone is teasing him?

Warnings: language ofc!!!

Word Count: 6k

A/N: ok first off I cannot express my love for Richie Tozier enough. he’s a precious baby and I love him. also I’m so close to my next hundred! thank you all! (gif isn’t mine) xxxx

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“Oi, mum sent me a package!”

Ron peeled open the box in front of him, repeatedly hitting Hermione in the ribs as he ripped the paper off the box, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I hope it’s a wig,” you piped up, “Because something really has to change about your hair.”

Ron glared at you, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor and kicking it under the table, “Ha, hilarious.”

He continued to rip at the box, eventually managing to tear it open. His eyes widened, his smile falling shortly after.

“Oh, is it a picture of yourself?” you pursed your lips and nodded condescendingly, “That’s the only thing that could have made you look so depressed.”

Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, however Ron kept a solemn expression as he took out the contents of the box, which happened to be a very old pair of dress robes — the collar was off-white and frilly and the thick sleeves were clearly moth-eaten. You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, not wanting to make Ron’s mood any more sour than it was at that moment.

“Mum sent me...a dress?” Ron’s voice was defeated as he stood up, holding the dress robes at their full length.

“Wow,” you struggled to hold your laughter back, “I didn’t think anything could get worse than your hair but that’s awful.”

“Is there a bonnet?” Harry joined in on the teasing and reached into the package, taking out what appeared to just be a frilly mess, “Aha!” You grinned at Harry’s pleaser reaction.

Ron scowled at the two of you, walking away from the table and approaching his younger sister, “Ginny, these must be for you.”

Hermione started giggling, catching Ron’s attention. He peered back at her, silently asking what her problem was.

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you, they’re dress robes.”

Ron’s face lost all colour, making the situation a million times more amusing for you. Harry continued teasing his friend, Ron becoming more agitated by the minute. You tuned out the conversation where Hermione explained to Ron that they were dress robes, and focused on the breakfast plate in front of you, loving how every now and then Harry would nudge you and make another joke.

Ron stuffed the robes back in the box, wanting to hide them from the eyes of fellow students. Most of the Gryffindor table had seen them by now, everyone had a good laugh, but the last thing Ron wanted was to catch anyone else’s attention.

So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.

“Weasel, what was that?”

The four of you turned your attention towards Draco Malfoy, who sauntered over to your section of the Gryffindor table with his goonies by his side.

You immediately fought the urge to stand up and punch him in the face — a natural urge when around Malfoy.

“I guess considering how poor your family is, those awful dress robes are all you could afford,” Malfoy smirked at Ron’s flushed face, which was now facing the floor.

You stood up, “Oi, we didn’t ask for a conversation with an arrogant asshole today.”

Malfoy’s eyes shot daggers at you, Crabbe and Goyle flexing their ‘muscles’ as if trying to warn you, “How dare you—”

“—talk to me, yeah, I’ve heard the speech before,” you cut him off, crossing your arms across your chest, “Now, leave, thanks. Seeing your face made me lose my appetite.”

As if rendered speechless, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stormed off, followed by his two shadows. You smirked and sat back down, continuing to pick at your breakfast silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione smiled at you.

“What’re you all staring at?” you asked, not bothering to look up.

Ron shook his head, “I reckon I’ve never seen Malfoy speechless before.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s a gift, I leave people speechless.”

The three of them laughed, the conversation going back to normal as you finished off your breakfast, mentally preparing for another loooong day of classes.

— —

“There’s gonna be a ball?” you scoffed, turning to Hermione wide a bewildered expression, “We’re expected to dress up? Oh, the nightmare.”

She tried to stifle her smile so McGonagall wouldn’t call the two of you out, “It’s not horrible, is it? I think it’s about time we do something fancier here.” She glanced quickly over at Ron before turning her attention back to you. But, being as attentive as always, you caught her not-so-subtle glance.

You widened your eyes, faking a gasp, “You already know who you want to go with, don’t you?”

She shushed you quickly, trying to make sure no one heard your outburst. You could see the blush rise to her cheeks, already giving you the answer you needed. You knew damn well she had feelings for Ron, but she really did try her hardest to hide them.

“Y/N! Don’t just be blurting out stuff like that,” she forced a neutral expression, “And no. I don’t know who I want to go with. Nor does it matter.”

You nodded, not believing her, “Whatever answer floats your boat, I guess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, who do you want to go with then?”

You turned away from her, eyes subconsciously darting towards Harry — who was so zoned out he didn’t even notice your glance — and turned back to Hermione, “No one. No one’s good enough, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, “I call your bluff.”

“Well call whatever bluff you want,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and turning away from her to face McGonagall, “Can’t fight the truth.”

She didn’t press the subject any further, but continued to peer at you through the corner of her eye, thankfully missing every time you looked over at Harry.

You couldn’t deny, Harry Potter was a catch. He was cute, fun to be around, and had recently fought off a dragon. I mean, the whole package, right? It wasn’t hard for you to develop a crush, the feelings came so naturally.

However, you were fairly certain the dark haired boy didn’t feel at all the same about you. He never showed interest, nor did he go out of his way to be with you. It stung a little when you’d catch him watching the perfect little Cho Chang make her way through the Great Hall, but you weren’t going to let it bring you down. He wasn’t yours, after all.

“Now, next time we meet I will be giving you dance lessons—”

You had finally tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying, trying your best to seem as if you hadn’t just floated off.

“—So, the rest of your class is a free period.”

You stood up hastily, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and walking over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, the two of them standing up and grumbling about dancing.

“Boy, oh, boy,” you let go of Hermione’s wrist and placed your hands on your waist, “A dance, huh? What’d ya think about that, Ronald? You gonna ask anyone?”

Ron’s face went blank and Hermione stomped discreetly on your foot, telling you that you had overstepped your boundaries. You hoped she’d forgive you for this.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, looking between you and Hermione. You were destined to set those two up, nothing was going to stop you.

“You sure? C’mon, handsome lad like you’s gotta find a date. And you Hermione, you’re, ya know, smart and fun, don’t you want to bring a date as well?” you grinned, knowing damn well how uncomfortable you were making them. They both shifted awkwardly, stealing glances back and forth, none of them knowing what to say next. Ron’s feelings for Hermione were just as obvious, really.

“Well, I’ve made things weird, haven’t I?” you smirked, placing your arm around Harry’s neck. You ignored the way goosebumps formed at the contact, choosing to believe it was from how warm his skin was.

“Yes, you have, thanks,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at you.

“Apologies,” you bowed slightly, “Let’s leave them be, Harry.”

Harry, laughing and sharing a confused expression with Ron, followed you out. You took your arm away from him, stealing a glance back to see that Ron and Hermione were still standing in awkward silence, and turned into the hallway.

“Nice work, maybe they’ll finally work up their courage,” Harry grinned at you, nodding approvingly at your set up, “You’re a natural matchmaker, Y/N.”

“See, they just needed a push, is all—oof,” you were cut off, bumping forcefully into a body of someone much larger than you. Your sight went dark, the only thing you knew was that the person tended immediately upon impact.

You pulled away, noticing the deathly glare Crabbe was now sending you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sighed in relief, “It went dark for a second, I thought I saw the end.”

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, pulling lightly on your sleeve to tell to you walk away. His tugging only became more aggressive once Malfoy stepped out from behind Crabbe, the same pissed off expression as always laced into his features.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy,” Harry glared at him, the tension between the two of them rising significantly in a short amount of time. He let go of your sleeve, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

“It was unfortunate, you know, that the dragon didn’t kill you,” Malfoy said lowly, clearly loving the fact that his friends laughed at his comment. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure what they had found funny. Was it a joke? What had he said that was so funny?

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning his head for you to follow him, and so you did so without question.

“You know, I was mistaken,” Malfoy’s voice echoed down the corridor, making both of you turn around once more. You were feeling both bored and angry — it was quite a strange mix. You were used to Malfoy’s taunts, having sat by while all of your friends — you included — fell victim, but a part of you particularly hated the way he spoke to Harry.

“Oh, yeah? About what? Please, for Merlin’s sake, enlighten us,” you snapped back, “We’re just dying to know.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned your face before approaching the the both of you one more. Harry’s shoulder was pressed up against yours and you could feel his ragged his breathing had become. Malfoy always found a way under his skin and it bothered you a great deal.

“About Potter, I actually hope you do make it to the end, it’ll make your death that much more bittersweet,” Malfoy sneered, “For those who care, that is.”

“Gee, I always believed we Gryffindors were petty but that’s a whole new low,” you smirked, taking a step forward after pushing Harry back, telling him to let you handle the situations, “You know, I’ve come to a conclusion about you, Malfoy. The reason you’ve never said anything logical in your life is because you waste your breath insulting the people that you think care about your opinion.”

“Excuse me?” you had never seen Malfoy looked more appalled than in that moment. It was rather amusing.

“Was my English not easy enough for you to understand? Point proven,” you sighed dramatically, turning away from him and nudging Harry in the shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, Malfoy.”

You turned back to face him, “suck my dick.”

And with that, you turned back and walked away with Harry by your side, neither of you wanting to turn and gauge what Malfoy’s reaction would be.

Once you two were around the corner, Harry turned to you with wide eyes and his mouth broken into a wide smile. If this was the reaction you’d get for shutting down Malfoy, you’d gladly do it any day.

“That was epic, Y/N!” his hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “I’ve never actually had anyone stand up for me like that before, what made you do it?”

“Oh — I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling quite proud of yourself, “I stick up for my friends, I guess.” Friends. How you wished Harry could be more than just your friend.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, taking his hands off of your shoulders and shaking his head in disbelief, “You know, I think I found the perfect friend in you. I love Ron and all but that was something else...”

As he trailed off, you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. Although that should make you weak in the knees, a part of you instinctively pulled away, flushing brightly at the encounter. You told yourself it was probably just the heat of the moment, the thrill of the comeback.

“Eh, no biggie,” you shrugged, “Asshole needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

You nodded awkwardly and began to continue in the path you were headed, until you noticed Harry was no longer by your side, still standing rooted where you two were not five seconds ago.

“Harry, you—,”

“I’m good, yeah,” he cut you off quietly, a light smile on his lips, “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told,” you grinned, trying not to let his words get to you. He chuckled, walking forwards and standing next to you, eyes still staring into yours with intensity you didn’t think you could bear.

Awkwardly looking away, your cheeks heating up, you motioned your head down the hall, “We should get going before Hermione and Ron come after me like an angry mob.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide and turning away from you, shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts, “Good point.”

And so the two of you walked off towards the common room, the silence tense and unsure, but not comfortable. Did Harry really mean what he said? Calling you ‘the best’ and all? It was flattering, especially coming from him, but did he mean it the way that you wanted to take it?

Fighting a mental battle, you stayed quiet until you reached the common room. You flopped down on the couch, nearly being hit by a firework that Fred and George were trying out in the corner of the room.

“How long do you think it’ll be before—,”

The portrait door swung open and a very flustered Ron and Hermione stumbled in, both looking tremendously irritated and uncomfortable.

Hermione stormed up to you, dragging you up by your collar, “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Shocked by her outburst, you nodded, “If you wanted to get me alone you could have just asked—,” noticing her expression, she wasn’t in the joking mood, “Yikes, sorry, okay, let’s go upstairs.”

She continued to drag you up, the anger fueling her sudden burst of strength. You did feel kind of bad about leaving her and Ron, but it wasn’t like you openly said anything about her feelings towards him.

Upon reaching your dorm room and noticing it was empty, she shut the door and pointed a finger at you accusingly, “You. Why would you do that? That was humiliating!”

“Oh come on,” you sat on the edge of you bed and brought your legs up, sitting criss-crossed, “It couldn’t have been that bad. Did he ask you to the ball?”

“No!” she seethed, sitting down on hers as well, “All he said was that he indeed noticed I am a girl.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Four years in and he finally notices? I knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier, but wow.”

As if she agreed with your comment, the anger seemed to disappear from her face. She rushed off her bed and sat next to you, shoving you over slightly so she had space on the tiny bed.

“I think he’s already got his eye on someone. It’s not fun.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. Hermione’s eyes shot up, giving you a quizzing look as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh! You like someone!” she grinned, lifting her hand to poke you in the shoulder, “You know about my feelings, I need to know about yours.”

“I don’t have feelings,” you defended, fighting back a blush and taking your hand away from your mouth, “Don’t turn this on me.”

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” she smirked. You scolded yourself for having been obvious. Of course, the ever-so intuitive Hermione would catch onto who your crush was. It was an embarrassing attempt to hide it on your part.

“Listen, Hermione,” you pointed a finger at her, “Tell anyone and during the next dinner, they’ll be serving your head on a silver platter.”

She giggled, ignoring your threat and crossing her fingers over your heart, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Squinting at her, you figured you’d be able to trust her. She had been your friend for years and kept all your previous secrets. She might be able to keep this one as well.

“Fine,” you gave in, throwing your head back in frustration, “You’re right. It’s Harry.”

She gave you a toothy grin, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, I have to set you two up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back, pointing your finger and shaking your head, “You’re gonna take his deep-rooted love for Cho away and, well, that’s just plain rude.”

“Oh, shut up, he’s barely ever spoken to her. It’s just an appearance thing,” she waved her hand, brushing off your comment, “Besides, I heard Lavender Brown say that Cho and Cedric Diggory are hanging out.”

Not overly shocked by the information, you leaned back onto your pillows, “Good for her. Diggory is a right catch if I say so myself.”

Hermione smacked your knee, “Sit up! Listen to me, you don’t need to pout, let’s just go down there and I’ll work my magic.”

You glared at her, not utterly convinced she was able to do much, but you followed her back downstairs nonetheless, figuring it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was that Harry would not feel the same, distance himself from you, then you’d lose Ron and Hermione as well because they were his friends first and then you’d be left alone to suffer in self despair while they galavanted in friendship—

“Hey, Harry!” Hermione greeted a little too cheerfully once you two entered the seating area of the common room. Already embarrassed by her attempt, you didn’t notice the way Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking upon your entrance, sharing a look that could only mean ‘don’t say anything.’

“Er — hi, Hermione,” Harry smiled awkwardly.

You sat down on the couch next to Ron, who was eyeing Hermione with awe. He was so smitten, it was a miracle no one else noticed the way he looked at her.

“Ron, you’re pathetic,” you leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ask her. Don’t make me threaten you into doing it.”

Ron shot you a look, “Not bloody likely.”

You turned away, shrugging, and stared into the fireplace. Harry was seated on your other side, not saying much, but the way he kept looking over at you made you think that he did actually have something he wanted to say.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Cho is going to go to the ball with Cedric,” Hermione said, pretending it was no biggie but checking over repeatedly to see Harry’s reaction.

Upon noticed he didn’t say anything, she leaned closer to him, “Did you hear me Harry? Cho’s taken.”

Harry looked at her, eyes darting back and forth between you, Ron and her, “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Guess that means you can ask someone else,” Hermione grinned, leaning back.

You scolded yourself for telling her. She was being ridiculously obvious and it pained you to see her efforts. Did she think this was going to anywhere?

“Er — I guess,” Harry shrugged, glancing over at you for a millisecond before turning back towards the fire, “I guess I’ll wait and see how things go.”

Your heart did a slight flip. He didn’t mention having any other girl in mind, maybe that meant he didn’t. Which still gave you a shot, technically. Even if he didn’t see you that way just yet, maybe you’d have to turn on the charm. Flirt, make him see that you were actually interested.

Granted, flirting was never really your area of expertise. You weren’t good at it, nor did you really have any experience. But maybe, just maybe, with Hermione’s strange help, you’d be able to find a way to get him to notice you.

Plan Flirt with Harry was now in action.

— —

Over the next two weeks, things had been going relatively well. Hermione had toned down her strategy and was making you seem like much more of a natural.

You and Harry had even shared a few lingering touches, whether they be your hands touching at the table during dinner, or his elbow touching yours when you were sat in the common room. Nothing overly intimate, but enough to send sparks flying through your body at the feeling.

You had also noticed the way Ron and Harry seemed to drop whatever conversation they were having when you entered the room. Sure, they could have been discussing Hermione and Ron’s feeble attempts at his own flirting, but the way Harry would glance at you during meals and classes sent your head spiralling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were talking about you.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was hard not to when the ball was getting closer by the day and neither you, nor Harry, had a date and he still hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

“He asked me!” Hermione stumbled into the dorm room in excitement, causing you to jump out of your skin and nearly drop the book you were reading.

“Ron?” you grinned, sitting up, “Oh, that’s great, Hermione! I knew—,”

“Not Ron,” she rolled her eyes, flopping down on your bed, on top of your legs, “Viktor Krum.”

“Ohhhh,” your eyes widened, “You go, girl. Have you seen his jawline? I’d let him cut me with it, hot ass—”

Hermione laughed, pretending to shoot you a glare, “That’s my date you’re talking about.”

“Right, sorry,” you joined in on her laughter, closing your book and placing it on your night table, “But I really am happy for you.”

“Thanks,” her cheeks went pink as she turned to face you, “Can we go sit in the common room? It’s just Ron and Harry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed, flicking the warm blanket off of you and following her downstairs. She was radiating joy, and even though it wasn’t Ron that had ended up asking her, you could tell she was really looking forward to this date.

“Just ask her,” you heard Ron snap quietly once you two started making your way down the stairs, “I see the way she looks at you.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped back, trying to keep his voice down, “She can do better anyways.”

“Yeah, bloody right,” Ron scoffed, “You fought a dragon.”

“It’s not the same, Ron, I— shush, I hear footsteps.”

The two of you walked into the room, noticing once again how Harry and Ron dropped their conversation upon landing sight on you two. So, Harry already had plans on asking someone to go to the ball. It hurt, you weren’t going to deny it. Of course he had someone else. He was Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Charming, funny, loyal, and brave. All the qualities to make a girl swoon.

“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” you pretended to be fine as you sat down on the opposite couch, placing your hands in your lap and trying to steady your now irregular heartbeat. Jealousy was slowly coursing through your veins and you hated it.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head, a fake look of innocence on his face. Ron nodded along, neither of them being very convincing.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Ron smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry in the ribs. Harry, glaring at his friend, gave him a nudge right back. You chose to ignore the comment, focusing more on the look Hermione was giving you.

“Hi, Ron,” you replied back, not sure why he was grinning while glancing back and forth between you and Harry. He was always very strange.

Hermione sat down on the armrest of your chair, crossing her arms and nudging you in the side, telling you to start doing something.

“Harry, are you trying to figure out the second task?” you blurted out, not sure what you could have said that wouldn’t make the situation weird.

“Of course,” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes avoiding yours, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

You grinned, “Oh, that’s great. I knew you’d be able to figure it out.”

Hermione seemed more pleased by your comment, leaning back and letting the situation unfold.

“Harry’s real smart, you know,” Ron nudged Harry in the side again, a teasing expression on his face, “One of the smartest.”

“Thanks,” Harry glared at Ron, speaking with gritted teeth before turning back to you, his face softening, “I had help, though.”

“Modesty isn’t gonna make you win, y’know,” you smirked, admiring his honesty, “Take credit. Be proud of yourself.”

Harry’s cheeks were pink and he brushed the hair out of his forehead, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You could tell he was flustered, but you figured it was probably because of the compliments. Harry never really knew how to reply to them — you had noticed that over the years. For someone who was the bravest person you had ever met, he sure didn’t know how to deal with people.

“Oh, Ron, Ginny wanted to talk to us,” Hermione sat up quickly, clapping her hands together. Ron raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently, before standing up.

“She did?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes! She did,” Hermione sent a discreet wink in your direction before turning to Harry, “We’ll be back shortly!”

“Well, Y/N, Harry, be safe you two,” Ron picked up on what Hermione was doing, smirking as he made his way to exit the room, “Have fun!”

Harry glanced at Ron, his eyes wide. The two boys shared a look before Hermione dragged the ginger boy out the portrait hole behind her.

“Head on a silver platter, Hermione!” you called after her, your heart beating violently, “Head on a silver platter!”

The portrait swung shut and the room went dead silent. The only thing you could hear was the thump of your heart and the sudden nervousness that spread throughout your body at being alone with Harry.

You wanted to seize the chance and make a move, but you had just heard him talk about asking a girl to the ball, so was it a good idea? Probably not.

But as you looked at him, watching the way the flames flickered across his face and the way his messy hair stuck out in different directions, it took everything you had in you to not rush over there and tell him everything.

“Can I tell you something? Don’t tell Ron and Hermione,” he piped up quietly, turning to face you, the blue of his eyes making you weak. You were thankful he spoke first, it prevented you from spilling your guts and making a fool out of yourself.

“Sure,” you replied, getting up and walking towards the couch he was sitting on, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end.

He sighed deeply, “I haven’t figured out the egg.”

“You haven’t?” you spoke, shock evident on your face. You felt bad for acting so surprised, but you couldn’t help it. He had seemed so confident when he told you he had.

He shook his head silently, shrugging, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

You blinked rapidly, turning over to face the golden egg that was sitting on the table, “Why didn’t you want to tell the others? Hermione could probably figure it out.”

He turned to you, face pale, “No, don’t tell them. I just thought I’d tell you, I don’t know, I trust you.”

You fought back a grin, hiding your smile behind your hair so you didn’t look like an idiot. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment but you took it as such.

“Well, I’ll help you, then,” you nodded, holding out your pinky, “I know we’re not children, but I pinky promise.”

He grinned, linking your pinky with his. For someone who had been through so much, he really did have soft skin. It was annoying. Pleasant, but annoying.

“I’m glad I have you around, Y/N.”

His gaze was so intense and wholesome that you struggled to hold back.

“The sappiness is gross, but I’m glad to be around,” you beamed, pulling your pinky away and turning back to your corner of the couch, leaning your head back and enjoying the softness of the cushion, your mind going back to the conversation you had heard between him and Ron. Who was he planning on asking?

Now was your chance — now or never.

“So — uh — who are you asking to the ball?” you asked, so silently Harry had to lean closer to you to hear it.

He stammered, “Oh — er — I dunno, yet. There’s a girl I have in mind but I don’t think she sees me that way.”

Your heart sank, but you turned to face him with a neutral expression, “I call bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to go with you?”

He seemed to think over your words for a second, a glimpse of fondness on his features, but he turned away and shook his head, “She’s different.”

“How so?” you regretted it as soon as you asked, knowing Harry was about to gush about some girl when you wished more than anything it was you he’d be gushing about.

“She’s bold,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Not afraid to stick up for herself or the people she cares about. She’s smart, too, always has an answer for everything. A good friend — the best, really. And I know she’d be better off with someone who wasn’t me.”

You nodded, processing his words and trying to think of the girl he could be talking about. It completely crushed you, hearing him speak so highly of someone, but you knew that if anything, he’d be the one better off without you.

“Why’d you think that?” you began twiddling with your thumbs, avoiding his eyes, “Did she tell you or is it an assumption?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he quickly replied, shaking his head, “But she’s got such an incredible spirit, I’m worried I’d ruin it. You know, it’s funny. I always looked at her like she was just a friend, just someone that I’d got lucky to have around, but then one day, she did something, and it kind of clicked. After that, I couldn’t look at her the same. She was so much more beautiful, so much more radiant and lovely and I knew from then on that she was just... different to me. And I tried to tell myself she was never going to see me that way but the more I was around her, the harder it was.”

You bit your cheek, trying your best to hold back your oncoming emotions.

“Well, she’s lucky,” your voice was weak, shaky even, as you turned to face him.

His smile was clear as day and the love struck expression was still on his face as he turned to look at you, causing you to speak up one more, “What did she do that made you change your mind about her?”

The smile vanished from his face and the awkward expression returned. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and then through his hair, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

He dropped his hand and faced you, all traces of amusement gone from his face, “She stuck up for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. You nearly missed his hand reaching across the couch and grabbing yours, linking his fingers and running his thumb across your skin.

Had he been talking about you? It would make sense, you had stuck up for him against Malfoy a few weeks back, but had it really impacted him to the point where he was falling for you?

You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t believe it. You thought back to what he said, about seeing you as a friend and then as something more, that you were different and beautiful, even. It was nearly impossible to believe him just off of his words, you had embarrassingly dreamt of him admitting his feelings and it felt too good to be true, but his gentle tough and soft gaze grounded you to reality. He was telling you the truth.

“I’m talking about you, if you hadn’t caught on,” he tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace, his nerves evident in his shaking hand and pale complexion.

You still couldn’t forumulate the words to say. For years you had always been the one to make a comeback, leaving others speechless — but now, you were the one speechless.

“Me?” you stared at him with wide eyes, heart violently thumping against your rib cage, trying to burst out and reach his, “Me?”

He retracted his hand rather quickly, “Unless — you know, unless you don’t feel the same.”

“No, wait,” you reached across and grabbed his hand, finally finding the courage to flash him a smile, “I do actually. I do feel the same.”

Relief flooded over him, his face regaining colour and his shoulders slouching back, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

The joy that had spread through you was indescribable. You didn’t think there could be a better feeling. Your heart seemed to swell and the tingling sensation in your fingers was everlasting. It was like a high you didn’t want to come down from. God bless Hermione and her intuition of leaving you two alone.

Plan Flirt with Harry had been a success.

— —

Hermione and Ron had quickly been informed of the confession between you two, both of them saying they had called it years back. Which didn’t make sense considering you didn’t have feelings for each other years back, but you let them enjoy their moment.

You had helped Harry try and figure out his second task, as promised, spending many a nights up late in the common room and telling each other things you wouldn’t tell someone if you were ‘just friends.’ You were having the time of your life, really. He had grown comfortable being intimate — holding your hand on the way to class or pecking your cheek in the Great Hall. (Hermione and Ron teased you two to no ends about it.)

Eventually, Harry had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball — which you responded with ‘well, duh.’ So, as the night of the dance came around — you were actually looking forward to it now — you had gotten ready with Hermione and strolled down to the Great Hall, ready to finally dance the night away with the boy you had fallen for.

Reaching the stairs, you noticed him and Ron standing at the bottom, both looking out of place. Ron — donning his ugly dress robes — had worked up the courage to ask one of the Patil twins. Which one, you didn’t remember. He had asked her out of desperation, it was rather sad.

“It’s embarrassing to be seen next to you, Ronald,” you tapped him on the shoulder once you arrived at the bottom. He spun around, his face laced with humiliation.

“They’re ancient,” he groaned, lifting his arms to show you the frills.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” you winked and ruffled his hair, turning to face Harry.

His eyes scanned you up and down in your dress, but you were too focused on how good he looked to feel at all self conscious. You had only ever really seen him in sweaters and his Gryffindor robes. This was a whole new level of glo-up.

“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, linking his hand with yours and pulling you closer to him, “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, grinning, “Well, what can I say? I’m a catch.”

“That you are,” he nodded, sticking out his arm for you to take, “We have first dance since I’m Champion.”

You nodded, linking your arm in his and standing by his side. You weren’t exactly a good dancer, but if you had Harry by your side you’d be too focused on him as opposed to the crowd around you.

“Shall we go in then, Champion?” you turned to face him, chin held high.

“We shall,” he replied in the same noble manner, chin up, and began leading you into the ball.

He was well worth the wait.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfics #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

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stan-the-cinnamon-roll-uris · 2 years

Note

and if I‘m allowed to send two, I wanna know about IT too ofc, but no pressure

Joey please send me all the asks. I will talk about all my blorbos if promted.

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): pretty obvious but Eddie. He really is my favourite Blorbo

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): Ben. Especially in the book!

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): ADRIAN! The fact that this man is so rarely talked about when he has been through it!

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): Patty Uris my beloved

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): Belch. Still can't get over him kissing that cat on the head. (Please get this kid some new friends)

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): All the creepy, abusive adult male presences in Bev's life.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): Richie because gay. Pennywise because evil space clown

#ask game #thanks for the ask bestie #it chapter two #eddie kaspbrak

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1990jeevas · 3 years

Note

Wanna infodunp bout sumthin? Plz do (respind whenever you wanna dont even worrg bout time here)

this has been sitting in my ask box for like a week now and im so sorry about that but also the last time i posted an info dump (which, for me, means bitching my ever loving heart out about the subject, because i genuinely find it incredibly difficult to speak fondly of things i enjoy without just going "yeah i think its neat!" essentially and then forgetting all the reasons why i like it) somebody came into my replies to break the dni i made in that post, invalidate my trauma and then say i was gaslighting them for stating my own opinion so um. yeah ive been a bit hesitant to say the least, considering hot takes are basically how i show my love for things :)

but, i have now decided to just post my least inflammatory take on one of my hyperfixations in response to this and then just. leave bc i dont wanna get into drama over my dumb little opinions again.

anyways, quick dni: dont even fucking touch this post if you're going to be aggressive with me, you don't use tone tags when making corrections or criticisms or you wanna just trash my opinion. ultimately people can do whatever they want, im just expressing my own annoyances as someone who has been in the IT fandom for awhile and has some complaints as a result (as im sure most other fans do lol)

moving on...rant time:

stan uris and richie tozier are canonically best friends in IT and the erasure of their friendship in favor of appealing to reddie fans is fucking gross and weird, especially bc stan is then chalked up to just some mean jewish kid who likes birds and is annoyed by richie 25/8 instead of having an actual fucking personality in every reddie fic just bc fans want so badly to make reddie best friends to lovers and its just?? yall can make reddie best friends to lovers WITHOUT erasing stan's canonical personality. yall can make them best friends to lovers while still acknowledging that stan and richie are canonically best friends and that stan canonically was an incredibly important person to richie.

this also goes for bill and eddie btw!! its just significantly worse with stan which reads Very Wrong when you take into consideration that fic writers always write bill denbrough as a sweet little white boy who everyone's at least a little bit in love with but then write stan as this rude jewish boy who's always mean and critical of richie for just being himself (and a lot of those "annoying" traits i see people make stan give richie shit about are adhd traits, which also rubs me wrong?? like why are so many NT fic writers so comfortable with calling my ND traits annoying) which isnt even canon?? like. canonically they poke fun at each other, they call each other names and say stupid shit but not to the extent of actually hurting each other because they are best friends and they know each other to the point where they know what boundaries the other has, they arent just making passive aggressive comments at the other and then going "it's a joke bro!" when/if the other gets upset.

also?? the trend of making "fix it" fics for IT chapter 2 where eddie is revived/doesn't die but stan does and is then only brought up in passing? not fucking cute. dont call it a "fix it fic" if the only "fix it" is you reviving a character for your fucking ship, especially when the other dead character is the BEST FRIEND of 1/2 of the ship? like. what. do yall just think richie getting married would somehow fix the fact that he lost the person that he was closest to? because, news flash, the person he was closest to was not eddie. they were very close friends, richie fucking loved the dude /p and /r, but stan was canonically his best friend and was canonically the person richie was closest to like?? what is not clicking omgggg

stanley uris is an incredibly fucking important character in IT and he is especially fucking important to richie goddamn tozier. you dont just get to ignore richie's best friend and write him into this mean jewish man box because his actual personality doesnt serve your ship like for the love of fucking god stan does not need to be there to create angst for your fics, he doesnt need to be there to make your hurt/comfort piece where you make stan borderline abelist just so richie can run and cry into eddie's scrawny little arms like im begging you to just write something where the hurt/comfort doesnt come from stan being a douchebag because canonically he was not one. he was a good fucking friend, he fucking loved richie and they got each others weird asses like nobody else did.

like. idk. ultimately yall can do what you want with ur fics i guess but also it's just fucking weird if you ask me?? and maybe that's just because im a dumbass richie kinnie who absolutely adores stan, but as somebody who loves reddie and reads reddie fics regularly, it is so goddamn annoying to only see my other favorite character written in to be mean, create angst or just be fucking dead time and time again when eddie is revived and then not even written accurately half the time bc he's not a fucking fragile dude who needs help all the time either, he's a shouty little cunt who know's he can be fucking dangerous if he wants to be and he doesn't hesitate to dish out some nasty ass comments if given the chance. just please for the love of god stop writing these characters ooc its killing me fr-

(btw i know most of this shit is just done by accident and its mostly done by movie stans who havent read the book, it's just still annoying to me, ya know? and this whole post is /nm, i just talk like this bc it's what comes naturally to me!! this is how i complain about literally everything, regardless of how big the issue is so dont take this too seriously pls)

#shit self #asks #IT #reddie critical #anti reddie #its not btw im just trying to keep away angry replies #richie tozier #stanley uris #discourse #long post #kinz #fandom critical #bangerz #info dump

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just-jordie-things · 4 years

Text

The Lady And The Trashmouth - Richie Tozier

word count: 10,245 warnings: swearing, violence, terribly recalled scenes from the movie summary: The Losers don’t really like Richie hanging around (y/n), they’ve got this irrational fear that he’s going to ruin her sweet personality and innocence. but (y/n) has to admit... she kinda has a soft spot for Derry’s resident Trashmouth. (a/n): I literally have no idea what this is or where it came from.

___

“Richie, would you calm down for three seconds so you could at least take a breath?” Mike groaned, but the trashmouth continued on his rampage anyways.

Today was supposed to be a fun day at the quarry, but Henry Bowers came up and now Richie wouldn’t stop running his mouth about that-

“-piece of motherfucking shit that can’t tell the difference between his reflection and a swine-”

(y/n) didn’t get to hear the rest of Richie’s rather creative complaints, because Beverly had placed her hands over her ears. It didn’t make her deaf by any means, but his voice was muffled enough that she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

However, when Richie looked at her, and then looked at Beverly, his mouth snapped shut and he gave the red haired girl a glare.

“Really?” He asked, just as Bev had removed her hands.

“What?” She replied innocently. “You’re going to ruin her kitten-like innocence”

(y/n’s) face scrunched up at that, finding the term weird. But Beverly wasn’t entirely wrong, because she certainly wasn’t as foul mouthed as Richie, but that didn’t mean she was some pure of heart child that needed to be sheltered either. It was a sweet notion though.

“Whatever” Richie rolled his eyes, and gave up on his rant.

(y/n) frowned as he walked away, and sat on the rock furthest from her and Beverly. But when Bill and Ben started talking about Derry’s history, she peeked over at him, concern on her brow to see him arguing with Eddie in hushed voices.

Eddie’s eyes caught (y/n’s), and he slapped Richie on the arm a couple times, abruptly ending whatever argument they’d been having.

(y/n) gave him a worried look, which Richie returned with a big stupid grin.

Richie Tozier was something special, that much was for sure. She always sort of had a crush on him, even though their friends tended to cover her ears when he spoke, or drag her away from him every time they were alone for more than five seconds. But he was always nice to her, and he made her laugh, and he was cute, and had a charm that made her want to be around him more.

When they got their bikes to go to Ben’s house, (y/n) made sure to ride next to him.

“Are you and Eddie alright?” She asked, and he gave her a weird look.

“What?”

“You guys just looked like you were fighting,” She said. “You okay?”

Richie had to turn away for a moment so he could bite back his smile. Ever-so-sweet-(y/n) had thought that he and Eddie were fighting, which they were, but it hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary.

When he looked back at her, seeing her brows were still knit together and her eyes still had that pitiful look of concern, he nodded his head.

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” He told her with a chuckle. “I just had to remind Eds that there was an AIDS epidemic going on, and he didn’t know who’s been doing what on those rocks-”

“Oh fuck off, Tozier” Eddie called, turning around on his bike to flip off the mop headed boy.

Yeah, eavesdropping was kind of his thing right now.

“Nothin’ to worry about” Richie said to (y/n), ignoring Eddie’s outburst.

She nodded back at him, a relieved smile on her lips.

Something weird was going on in Derry, this was no time for her friends to have a falling out.

Richie winked at her, and she forgot for a moment that they were going to Ben’s to investigate the missing children. ___

Eddie had caught on to Richie’s feelings for (y/n). It actually surprised him that none of their other friends, or (y/n) for that matter, had noticed it. Richie stared at (y/n) all the time. Pretty much every time she wasn’t looking. And since the others always tried their best to keep the two separated, Richie was persistent in trying to hang around her.

This usually resulted in someone covering her ears, or dragging her away and giving Richie a dirty look. He wasn’t good at realizing when he took things too far, and he learned early on in their meeting that the other Losers saw a potential of innocence in (y/n) that they didn’t want him fucking up.

Apparently, all he would do is fuck her up as a person.

He looked over at (y/n) now, while she was flipping through old newspaper clippings Ben had collected. She looked so pretty and smart standing at his desk, lip curled with intrigue while she was reading.

Maybe his friends were right. (y/n) was a different breed of human than he was. That’s what Stan had told him. She was soft and sweet like a marshmallow, she did all of her work in school, she danced when there wasn’t any music playing, and she kept her cussing to a minimum. She loved all of her friends equally and unconditionally, she wore jeans with cute sweaters and cardigans, she giggled like an angel and she smiled like one too. She was the most admirable person he knew.

(y/n) glanced up, her eyes meeting his almost instantly, like she could feel him looking at her. And in seconds, there was that angelic smile. He smiled back, not that he could help it, and turned around to pretend to be interested in the papers posted to the wall.

“You’re a fucking idiot” Eddie grumbled, appearing at his side out of nowhere.

“I’m not having this conversation again” Richie replied, still feigning interest in the wall. Fuck, he wanted to leave.

“Cool, then I’ll just go tell her my fucking self that you’re too chicken shit to say that you’re in love with her-”

“Shut the hell up Eds” Richie rolled his eyes and walked over to Ben, making some comment about Derry being a beaver trap.

(y/n) snorted into her hand, turning away to hide it better. But Richie saw.

He hadn’t meant to be so blatantly rude to Eddie, he just couldn’t take the nagging anymore. The pressure to do something, to act on the crush he’d been harboring for the last year or so. Eddie was only trying to help, in his own pushy way, but it only pissed him off. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Their friends would never be okay with it, not with the way they’ve been acting. And any chance of him plucking up the courage to make a move had died months ago.

“The Barrens,” Bill mumbled. “I-I think I have an idea”

They left Ben’s, and biked all the way to Bill’s house. (y/n) swore if she had to bike another mile across town again, she’d give up and go home. But she had to admit, this was the most interesting thing to happen in Derry since forever. Mass amounts of kids going missing every twenty-seven years? That would keep them occupied this summer.

When they got to Bill’s, he immediately began to ransack through boxes in the garage, throwing things and ripping them open. It wasn’t until he had aggressively ripped through a box of Georgie’s packed up things that (y/n) stepped in.

“Hey,” She said softly, pulling his hands away from the box. His wild eyes met hers and he seemed to calm for a moment. “It’s alright, take your time. What are you looking for?”

He explained what he needed, and with some help was able to set up the projector and place a clear sheet over it, displaying a map of Derry on the wall of the garage.

(y/n) plopped down on the couch next to Richie, giving him a small smile before directing her attention back to the map.

Bill was doing his best to explain his jumbled thoughts without jumbling his words too, but the others were patient, letting him take his time and focus on what he was saying. That was, until he mentioned that wretched house.

“Neibolt?” Eddie had chirped up as soon as it was mentioned, shaking his head back and forth. “No fucking way, not happening. No. That’s a fucking crack house-”

“But that’s where IT lives,” Beverly said. “That’s where-”

“G-georgie could be,” Bill finished her thought, and they shared a look, before he turned to Eddie again. “W-we have to tr-try”

Eddie was still shaking his head.

“Th-this might b-be our only ch-chance-”

Bill wasn’t able to finish, as suddenly a photo was flicked in front of the projector. A picture of the Denbroughs being broadcasted overtop of the map on the wall.

“Bill…?” Richie asked, surprisingly speechless as the picture kept getting closer and closer. “What the fuck?”

Everyone watched with wide eyes as his mother’s hair covered face was the focus of the display, hearts beating as rapidly as the picture was changing.

As the photo began to move, and the face of a clown was revealed, (y/n) barely had time to process a scream before Richie was snatching her hand in his, and pulling them both off the couch and scrambling over the back of it.

And then, since things weren’t traumatizing enough, the clown leapt out of the screen.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” He was screaming while simultaneously pulling her closer and holding her tighter. She had her hands balled up in his tee shirt, her face buried against it to hide the views.

Everyone was scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off. Screaming, swearing, crying, and meanwhile (y/n) had frozen up, not making a sound, barely moving. Just keeping her eyes screwed shut, because she knew what happened when that clown was around.

Beverly was fast to act, opening the garage door, and as soon as the chaos had started, it ended, and the clown disappeared.

It was then that Richie realized the girl was trembling in his tight embrace, and she slowly lifted her head, barely peeking her eyes open to be sure that It was gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Richie hollered, his hand unconsciously rubbing between her shoulder blades comfortingly. “You still wanna fucking go to Neilbolt? After that shit?”

Stanley pulled (y/n) back by her elbows, much to Richie’s dismay.

“It was gone as soon as Bev opened the door,” Ben said. “Maybe all we have to do is expose it to-”

“You’re crazy! This is fucking crazy!” Eddie screeched. “There is no way- no way that I’m going to that fucking house!” ___

The bike to Neibolt wasn’t too long, and gave (y/n) the time she needed to calm down. Clearly her friends had already brushed off the incident in the garage, and it made her feel embarrassed to still be so affected by it. To have to look over her shoulder every other minute, to have rub her arms to get the goosebumps to disappear, no one else seemed to be as terrified as she was.

She jumped when Richie smashed a bottle on the wooden railing of the house, and then tossed it to the ground with disinterest. The loud shatter brought her back from her thoughts, more specifically, the memory of It terrorizing her at the quarry last week.

“Come on sweet girl, I won’t tell anybody”

The words rang in her head like an awful, awful record stuck on repeat.

But when Bill lead everyone inside, she followed nonetheless. She would follow her friends to the ends of the earth, to the depths of hell, so a crack house that was definitely haunted shouldn’t bother.

“That’s asbestos,” Eddie pointed out, already beginning to panic. “Oh my fucking god that’s definitely- we’re gonna die. If It doesn’t kill us, cancer fucking will”

When a hand laid on (y/n’s) back, she looked up to Richie Tozier, who was staring back at her worriedly.

“You okay?” She murmured as not to get the attention of their friends.

He let out a small scoff of a laugh.

“I should be asking you that,” He whispered back. “You haven’t stopped shaking since Bill’s” He told her like she didn’t know already. Although no one else had pointed it out, she thought that no one could tell.

Her mouth opened to speak, and then shut again, not sure what to tell him. She didn’t want to admit to Richie that she was a coward, but he was concerned.

“Can you blame me?” She half joked. “I thought we were gonna die”

Richie forced a smile, but his brows were still cinched together, like he didn’t believe her. And (y/n) knew she wasn’t a very convincing liar.

He didn’t say anything more about it, but he did keep his palm flat against the back of her sweater as they continued walking through the house.

This was probably the longest period of time he’s got to stand next to her without someone stealing her away from him. It was nice.

He just wished it didn’t have to be in a demon clown’s child-eating house.

Nothing was too out of the ordinary for an abandoned house, until his eyes caught sight of a paper on the ground, and he left (y/n’s) side to inspect it.

“What the fuck?” His distressed cry caught the attention of the others, and he held up the sign. “It says I’m missing-! Why am I fucking missing? I’m not fucking missing! Am I gonna go m-”

“R-Richie,” Bill tried to cut his friend off from his ramblings, but Richie was still talking, rambling on and asking if he was next. “Richie! S-stop!”

“Richie,” (y/n) spoke in a softer voice that actually caught his attention.

She took the paper from his hands, crumpling it up and throwing it to the floor, and then reached up to set her hand gently against his shoulder.

“You’re not missing,” She continued slowly. “You’re right here, with the rest of us,” Her voice was so calm and quiet, it actually slowed his heartbeat. “Okay?” She nodded, waiting for him to respond in some sort of way.

Beverly and Stan shared a confused glance, eyebrows deeply furrowed at how she’d managed to calm down Derry’s most rambunctious guy. They didn’t even think that (y/n) and Richie really had a connection.

She moved her hand up to lay against his jaw for just a moment, a short, but bold moment. And then dropped it just as soon as he’d gotten used to the warmth of her palm.

Nothing was said between them as everyone went back to their trek through the house, but he didn’t leave her side again.

He did notice that Bev and Stanley kept shooting looks over to the two of them, like they were incredibly puzzled. But he didn’t care. No one had tried to make (y/n) leave him, so he didn’t make any smart ass comments that would cause them to want to.

“Uh, guys?” Mike spoke, slow and worried, afraid to even mention anything. “Where’s Bill and Ben?”

With the one question, (y/n’s) heartbeat spiked again, looking around for her friends, feet frozen to the floor.

“O-oh my god” She stammered under her breath.

Everyone started screaming for them, looking around and trying not to run too far from each other as they searched every hall, every room, for where they possibly could have gone.

“I don’t see them-!” Beverly had started to panic, but was dragged by an invisible force into a room, the door slamming shut and locking behind her.

(y/n) had run after her before Richie could grab her arm and keep her planted at his side.

“Bev!” (y/n) screeched, pulling with all her might on the unmoving handle, and then slamming her fists against the door repeatedly, screaming for her to come out. But she wasn’t sure she was even in that room.

The floorboards creaked, but the thought of them breaking through completely hadn’t even crossed (y/n’s) mind until they burst under her feet and she was falling a story below her. Eddie, who had been on the verge of a panic attack next to her, fell through as well.

Their bodies crashed painfully against an old wooden table. The force so strong that they broke right through it.

“(y/n/n)!” Richie’s scream was painfully blood curdling, and it made her head hurt as she rolled it to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie was able to reply, and tried to push himself up. He whimpered as he realized his right arm was definitely broken. “Fuck!”

“Eddie,” (y/n) mumbled, sitting up and trying not to burst into tears from how much that just hurt. She would definitely find bruises later. “Are you okay?”

“My fucking arm! It’s fucking broken!” The boy was squealing and whimpering and clutching his arm to his chest.

“W-we have to- we gotta move-” She stammered over her words, pain blinding her vision and choking up her throat.

All she could think about was how much it hurt tot stand, how wobbly her legs felt.

“We need to get out of here” She said as clearly as she could manage once she’d stood up. She helped Eddie to his feet, even though it made her ribs ache.

“Stay there!” Richie called from above.

Him, Mike, and Stan were peering down through the opening, all bearing the same terrified face.

“We’ll come to you, just don’t- don’t move” Richie ordered. (y/n) wasn’t sure if he’d said anything more than that, because her hearing was going in and out between a sharp ringing and Richie’s screaming.

But then him and the remaining two boys took off, leaving (y/n) and Eddie stuck.

“Fuck it,” Eddie grumbled, hobbling towards the doorway to the room they were in. “I’m getting the fuck out of here”

“N-no,” (y/n) begged. “Eds, don’t leave- they’re coming, don’t leave me here please don’t leave me here”

She could no longer contain her tears, and now they were pouring down her cheeks nonstop. Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her cry before, and he realized that he didn’t want to go through the house looking for an escape alone anyways, so he walked back into the room, and sat with (y/n) against a wall.

She felt like a sitting duck, just waiting to be found by It. But she wasn’t going to leave and risk Richie not finding her, and she wasn’t leaving without him. With great struggle, she pulled her knees to her chest, and leaned her elbows against them as she held her head in her hands, trying to catch her breath and stop her tears.

“H-he’ll find us,” Eddie spoke after what felt like years. “Richie, he’ll find… you” He added, much more awkwardly.

(y/n) looked over at him, a not so sure expression on her face. She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were still puffy and glossy.

“He will” Eddie repeated.

He knew that Richie wasn’t going to give up on her, that he was probably knocking down every door he could in search for a staircase to the basement.

“I’ll bet he’s yelling at Mike and Stan right now to move their asses” He told her, eliciting a small watery laugh.

“Yeah,” She whimpered, and sniffled. “He can’t live without having you around to mess with”

Eddie smiled sadly, and cradled his arm a little closer to his chest.

“Can I tell you something?” She asked, and he nodded. (y/n) looked at him, and then back to her lap, taking in a deep breath. “I think… I think the others don’t want me to be around him,” She admitted. “I think they think that he’s… a bad influence, or something”

You’re goddamn right, Eddie thought, but didn’t cut her off.

“But that’s not true,” She said quickly, looking at Eddie to make sure he understood that she didn’t believe that. “I like Richie, a-a lot, actually, and I don’t think he’s a bad influence at all, or a b-bad guy”

“Or bad looking?” Eddie teased, and for a few seconds forgot about how his arm felt like it was on fucking fire.

(y/n’s) cheeks went pink at the accusation.

“You’ve got a crush on him? Really? The forbidden fucking fruit?”

“Look, I’m only telling you this now because if we die, I don’t want to have to be seen as the pure and innocent one of the group for eternity” (y/n) told him.

“We’re not dying” Eddie said reassuringly.

She smiled back at him, trying to believe him, trying to tell herself that they could get out of here and go home soon.

However, It had other plans.

Chaos erupted again as It appeared, seemingly ten feet tall as he loomed over the pair, and the screaming and pain returned while they scrambled to their feet and tried to run somewhere safe. There weren’t many options, and (y/n) found herself against the opposite wall, half the tabletop they’d broken through in front of her like a shield.

Not that it would do much to protect her.

A new scream, of the loud, shrill, deadly sorts, echoed through the room, and (y/n) knew it was Beverly Marsh’s scream.

“(y/n),”

Richie.

“Open your eyes, come on” She looked up to see him taking away her piece of wood and pulling on her arms so she’d stand.

She glanced over to see Beverly stab a fireplace poker straight through It’s eye, and out through his jaw.

“Go! Go! Come on!” Bill screamed, sutterless, and led everyone out of the house as hastily as he could.

(y/n’s) feet were hesitant to move, body still frozen in place as she stared at the clown, whose blood was floating up into the air.

Richie pulled her arm gently, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

“We have to go” He told her, pulling her again, and this time getting her legs to move, and she was running with him out of the house.

It wasn’t until they got outside that he let go of her, as they picked up their bikes and headed for the street.

“We’ll have to c-come back l-later-”

“No” Richie stated.

“W-what?”

“No. We’re not fucking going back,” He repeated himself. “Look, Bill. I’m sorry about Georgie, but we’re not risking our goddamn lives over it-”

“T-take that back,” Bill stuttered, dropping Silver and storming up to Richie. “I-I’m sorry you were s-scared b-but take that b-back”

Richie shook his head.

“Look around, Bill!” He gestured outwards to their friends. “Eddie broke his fucking arm, Bev practically killed a guy, (y/n’s) traumatized for life- we’re not gonna fucking die over this like all the other kids”

What happened next was a flash, and the gasp that left (y/n’s) mouth was involuntary, and she leapt forward before Bill could hit Richie again, or Richie could strike back.

“H-hey! Hey!” She hollered, thanking Mike silently for restraining Richie.

“Guys, stop!” Beverly yelled. “This is exactly what It wants, It wants to tear us apart! We can only defeat it when we’re together”

“W-whatever,” Bill muttered, picking up his bike. “J-just go. If th-that’s what you w-want”

Richie shoved Mike off of him, glancing from Bill, and then to (y/n) who was staring up at him with round, almost hurt eyes. That look on her alone made him want to die. He swore his heart dropped to his stomach and was currently being digested. ___

(y/n) had been torn on who to follow. Beverly and Ben were following after Bill, to no one’s surprise. Mike was going home before his grandfather could notice he was gone. And Eddie and Stan were biking after Richie.

She’d gone home. She wasn’t going to pick sides with her friends, they were her friends, her family. Picking one side would betray another, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt anyone's feelings.

Riding her bike made every muscle and bone in her body ache even worse, and in the back of her mind she knew that this wasn’t a good idea. But she didn’t want to be alone, and she didn’t want to leave her friends alone either.

When she knocked on the Toziers’ door, she was surprised that Stanley was the one to answer.

“(y/n)?”

“Stan?”

They spoke at the same time, both puzzled to see the other there.

“What are you doing here?” Stan spoke up first, before (y/n) could ask him the same question.

“I…” Her eyes darted away from his skeptical stare. “I could ask you the same thing” She finished weakly, too nervous to tell him the real answer.

“Richie’s parents are gone tonight, Eddie and I are staying over tonight because…”

“You’re scared?” (y/n) asked, her nervousness disappearing as she now looked at her friend with concern. “That’s a great idea, can I stay too?”

“W-what? No, (y/n), it’s Richie’s house-”

“So?”

“So….” Stan repeated, but couldn’t think of a good argument off the top of his head. “So won’t your parents be upset if they find out you’re staying overnight with a bunch of boys?”

(y/n) furrowed her brows, wondering why he was being so weird about this.

“Stan, just let me in-”

“(y/n)?”

Richie had just come downstairs, and saw Stanley with the door wide open. It only shocked him that she was the one on the other side.

“What’re you doing here?”

Her cheeks flushed pink, which Stan caught. She didn’t have a decent answer, seeing as the real reason was that she came to tell him about her feelings, about how she wished she’d spent more time with him since they might die soon. This didn’t seem like the right place or time to tell him.

“She called while you were in the shower,” Stan quickly lied. “Asking how everyone was, I told her we’re staying the night for… safety,” He coughed over the word, and (y/n) rolled her eyes at his inability to admit such a simple thing. “And then I invited her”

“Oh, nice,” Richie grinned. “Well get out of the fuckin’ way Stan, let her in”

The curly haired boy stepped aside, and (y/n) walked in, an anxious smile on her face as she looked between the boys.

“Have you had dinner?” Richie asked, and she couldn’t find it in herself to speak, so she just shook her head instead. “Eddie’s making grilled cheese. I’ll tell him to make you one” He told her, and winked before heading to the kitchen.

This left her and Stan alone in the living room. And Stan was giving her a very peculiar look.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” He said, crossing his arms as he stared at her, hoping she’d crack under his hard gaze. “Now what the hell are you really doing here?”

“I- I came to talk to Richie” She answered, which wasn’t a total lie.

Stan gave her a bored look.

“Why?” He asked like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “You and Richie aren’t even friends”

“Yes we are!” She said a little too defensively, and louder than she meant to. “You and Bev just don’t think so cause you never even gave us a chance to be” She lowered her voice to a hiss.

“Eddie’s pissed that I ruined his groove, but he’s making you one anyways” Richie said as he came back in the room, promptly ending (y/n) and Stan’s argument.

“Thanks,” (y/n) said softly, and glanced to Stan before letting out a short, inaudible sign. “I’ll go keep him company”

She left the room before either of the boys could say anything, and greeted Eddie in the kitchen. She took a seat at the breakfast bar while he was laying cheese over slices of bread.

“Hi,” He replied, pressing the top slice of bread down against the sandwich with his spatula. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d go home. Or to Bill’s”

“I felt… uh, bad,” (y/n) shrugged. “And staying home by myself tonight kinda freaked me out”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, but his eyes remained focus on the grilled cheeses.

“Oh really?” He asked, unamused.

“Well, only sorta,” She huffed, leaning her head against her hand. “How long is it gonna be until everyone makes up?”

“I don’t know, a week?” Eddie shrugged. “Richie’s just pissed off. He’ll get over it, and he’ll apologize and things’ll go back to normal”

“Yeah,” (y/n) nodded and stared down at the countertop. “I don’t want anyone to fight”

Eddie scoffed, looking over at her now and shaking his head.

“They wouldn’t be fighting if you hadn’t fallen through a fucking floor and busted yourself up so bad”

“What does that mean?” She replied. “And busted myself up? You broke your arm!”

“Sure, but Richie’s not in love with me” Eddie muttered without thinking. He hoped (y/n) hadn’t caught it, but by the look in her eyes, he knew she had.

“What?” She mumbled, staring at him even though he was trying to avoid her gaze. “What’d you just say?”

“Nothing, I didn’t mean it, it was a joke,” He stammered out too quickly for (y/n) to really believe him. “He’s just protective of you, that’s all. That’s all!”

Eddie was far too panicky for her to believe any of this, and he could tell. He was a terrible liar.

“He told you this?” She asked softly, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of the right thing to do in this awkward, awkward situation. “Eddie, just tell me”

“Kind of! Yeah…” He said nervously. “He might have told me that he liked you a lot, like more than a friend and that he was falling in love with you but Stan and Bev always sheltered you away from him and so he was discouraged and decided not to do anything about it. The protective thing I just fucking figured, you know, seeing as he got in a fight with Bill today over you- that was definitely about you by the way, he was just pissed you got hurt and were so scared-”

“Okay, okay,” (y/n) cut off his rambling so she could process everything he was saying. “He likes me? He told you that?”

“Yeah, today at the quarry”

“Oh, so you really weren’t fighting” She muttered to herself.

“Fuck yeah we were, he was being a goddamn pussy,” Eddie retorted. “I told him to make a move. Mostly cause you look at him all the time-”

“I do not-”

“And then he said that he didn’t want to bother you, and that your friends would hate him if he made a move”

(y/n) frowned, no longer feeling giddy about this development. Instead, it hurt her, to know that he returned her feelings but had talked himself out of acting on them. It hurt her to know that her friends had scared him into staying away from her. It hurt her to know that he was going through the same thing she was.

“Eddie!” Richie hollered, waltzing into the kitchen, “How much fucking longer is it gonna take?”

Eddie began to rant on about how he was the only one of the Losers who knew how to cook something (that wasn’t cereal). All the while he was yelling at Richie, (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes off him.

He was standing in the doorway, brows furrowed and lips parted, an offended look, and every once in a while he would scoff at what Eddie was saying.

She laid her head against her palm, just admiring how adorable he looked when he was pretending to be insulted, which was quite often. He’d changed out of his short ad hawaiian shirt, now just wearing sweatpants and a black tee shirt- he looked so comfy. (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, now that he was in this new light.

“Literally, fuck you, fuck you” Richie grumbled, then walked behind the counter, and grabbed one of the sandwiches right off the stove.

She smiled as he bit right into it, the dumbass. He tried not to give Eddie the satisfaction of showing how much his mouth burned. Eddie just rolled his eyes, and went back to the other grilled cheeses.

That was when Richie turned, catching (y/n) in her shameless staring. He half expected her to look away, like she usually did when he looked at her for too long, but she didn’t.

She just smiled at him, and the corner of his lips quirked up back at her.

“Glad you came over, hon” He told her, and then left the kitchen.

Eddie snorted at how pink (y/n’s) face looked.

“Shut up Eds” She mumbled, and hung her head in her hands. ___

After eating grilled cheeses, everyone was piled into the living room, trying to focus on movies instead of what happened today. It was harder than they

(y/n) was drawing little red hearts on Eddie’s arm cast. Greta Keene had signed it with a thick black sharpie, ‘Loser’ scrawled in all caps for anyone to see. So (y/n) took it upon herself to fix it. She could tell it embarrassed Eddie, even if he hadn’t admitted it. So she wrote a ‘V’ where the ‘s’ was, and topped it off with tiny hearts.

“Awe, Eds,” Richie cooed mockingly as he glanced over (y/n’s) artwork. “Look how cute you are!”

“Fuck off” Eddie grumbled, but (y/n) smiled, and held her hand out to Richie.

“You want some?” She asked, wiggling the red sharpie with her other hand.

I don’t have a cast, Richie thought to himself. But fuck it, why would I say that.

He didn’t say anything, just reached his arm out towards her. (y/n) grinned, and switched spots with Eddie on the couch so that she could draw on him.

Her hand held his wrist delicately as she began to draw small hearts over his skin. Now neither of them could focus on the movie. (y/n) was intently working on her doodles, and Richie was watching her work on her doodles.

And Stanley was watching both of them. A slight glare in his eyes as he tried to piece together what the fuck was going on.

“Are you really not gonna draw any dicks?” Richie asked quietly after she’d scribbled about fifteen hearts on his arm.

She giggled and looked up at him, finding his eyes were already on her.

“Would you rather that?” She asked, but he shook his head. She smiled before moving a little closer to him to continue her drawing.

Considering how their afternoon went, Richie never felt more at peace. More at ease to just sit. He was content. Of course, that was all thanks to (y/n), whose leg was pushed up against his and who’s fingers brushed over his wrist a bit as she held it.

She smelled like fucking strawberries.

It wasn’t until she’d covered his arm in nearly thirty small red hearts, a few of them colored in, that it hit Stan, that he figured it out, and boy, he couldn’t believe it.

(y/n) capped her marker, and grinned from her doodles up to Richie, who wore the same dumb smile. Stan knew that dumb smile, he knew what that meant, he’d known Richie long enough to know that when he pulled that face, heart eyes and all, that he liked her. And she was looking back at him with the same fucking expression!

“Oh my fucking god!”

His holler made both (y/n) and Richie jump, their gaze tearing away from each other and shooting towards their friend on the recliner, worry and fear replacing the affection in their eyes.

“What?” (y/n) asked, her mind jumping to the worst scenario, thinking that Stanley was having a panic attack. “What is it?”

Stan looked between his three friends on the couch. Richie and (y/n) seemed perplexed, but Eddie rolled his eyes. He’d seen Stan staring at the two, he knew that he was just freaked out.

“Stan?” (y/n) said softly, after Stanley had stared silently at them for a minute. She got up from the couch, much to Richie’s disliking. “Are you alright?”

She laid her hand against his shoulder, searching his panicked eyes for some sort of answer.

“I- I just-”

You’re hitting on (y/n) you fucking slut of a boy! He wanted to yell at Richie, wanted to slap him upside his stupid stupid head.

But (y/n) had looked at him the same way, she liked him too, what was he supposed to do about that?

Stan blinked at the worried girl.

You’re hitting on Richie you dumbass take a look at him, you want that? His brain was in overdrive.

“I’ll get you some water” (y/n) decided, and hastily left the living room.

“You-” Stan glared at Richie once (y/n) was gone. “You whore!”

“Hey-!” Richie started to reply, but Eddie spoke up before either of them could start screaming at each other.

“Both of you, calm the fuck down,” He hissed, and shot his head towards the kitchen, which wasn’t too far. “She’ll hear you”

“You like her? Are you fucking serious?” Stan growled. “Do you have any ounce of common sense at all?”

“Why don’t you get off my fucking dick Stan,” Richie replied, giving him the middle finger. “It’s none of your goddamn business”

“But you do, and she’s my friend so it is my business”

“No it fucking isn’t!” Richie said a little louder than he intended. “You and Bev and Bill and Ben and Mike- you all try to keep her away from me, like I’m gonna kill her if she’s within five fucking feet!” He was whisper-yelling, hoping that (y/n) couldn’t hear from the kitchen.

“(y/n) really likes Richie,” Eddie explained. Which only seemed to further Stan’s confusion.

“She does?” Richie asked, voice dropping to a softer tone.

“I put in three ice cubes,” (y/n) walked back into the room, and handed Stan the glass. “It’s the perfect amount so your water stays cold the whole time…” She trailed off when she noticed everyone was staring at her with the same shocked look. “Um… what’s going on?”

“I’m going to bed” Stan announced, standing from his seat, and taking the glass from (y/n). The sound of the ice clinking around being the only sound in the room.

“Okay-”

“Goodnight” He was heading up the stairs before she could make sure he was alright.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being fucking weird about not talking to Bill” Eddie waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes.

“But he-”

“He’s fine” Eddie cut her off, giving her a look.

“Okay,” She sighed, and sat down in the seat Stan had just abandoned. “Was he mad at me?”

“No!”

“Of course not!”

Eddie and Richie spoke at once, shaking their heads rapidly and taking her by surprise by how quick they were to answer. She laughed nervously and put her hands up defensively.

“Okay, jeez,” She giggled, and tucked herself into the seat, turning back to watch the movie.

It was near the end, and she’d really only caught the first ten minutes, so she had no idea what was going on, but that was fine. She was definitely going to pass out soon, the weight of the day exhausted her.

After the movie ended, she glanced over to see Eddie and Richie had both knocked it. She wished she’d had her camera, they looked adorable. Eddie’s head had fallen onto Richie’s shoulder, and Richie was leaning against his head as well. Too cute, she thought.

Falling asleep hadn’t come easy to her, she was never able to get a good night’s rest when her head was swarming with thoughts and worries. The events from Neibolt played like a horror movie on a loop in her mind. It terrorizing her, seemingly whenever it pleased.

It had started at the quarry, making her feel like she was batshit crazy, and then It appeared again this morning in Bill’s garage, and again at Neibolt. She realized she wasn’t cut out for this.

It was late when she’d gotten up from the seat and headed outside. She carefully opened the door and crept out, closing it silently behind her. Sitting on the front step in the cool Derry night felt much better. The trauma was still there, but at least she could take deep breaths in the fresh air.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out there, but when the door opened again, she felt like it was the middle of the night.

“(y/n)?” Richie’s tired voice asked, before he yawned. “What’re you doing?”

She turned around to look at him, and he could tell she just couldn’t sleep.

“Just getting some fresh air” She said with a weak smile.

As he sat next to her, her eyes trained on the hearts on his arm.

“You okay?” He asked after a few moments of them sitting in silence.

She started to nod, but when she saw the look on his face, the serious one, her mouth betrayed her.

“Not really,” She mumbled. “I’m worried about our friends”

She pulled her knees to her chest, crossed her arms over them, and laid her head against her arms, still looking at Richie. He gave her a small reassuring smile.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” He told her. “Today was just a… there was just a lot going on”

She nodded her head a bit, and stared at him for a few seconds longer than necessary. The slight bruise on his eye already seemed to be doing better, so Bill must not have hit him as hard as she’d thought.

“Does it still hurt?” She asked, nodding to the light blue and purple marking.

“Oh,” Richie’s hand reached up to his eye, like he’d forgotten completely there even was a bruise. “N-no, no, it doesn’t, I’m fine”

There was a dull ache in his face, but he wasn’t going to bitch about it to her right now.

“Besides, you’ve probably got fuckin’ loads of these- sorry” His voice went from light and quick witted to immediately apologetic.

(y/n) furrowed her brows and lifted her head.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Cussing” Richie shrugged and nodded his head to the side.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that,” She giggled. “I’m very used to it, it’d be weird if you weren’t”

“I just don’t want to give anyone any more reasons to drag you away from me all the time” Richie admitted, and stared down at the ground.

He noticed that?

(y/n’s) features softened, and she smiled at him a bit, even though he was avoiding eye contact.

“I feel like I never get to spend a goddamn minute with you,” He told her. “And for once I’d just like to-”

He looked up suddenly, finding her eyes locked on his intently, and a sweet smile on her lips. That damn cute look made his train of thought derail, and then crash and burn completely.

“You’d just like to what?” She murmured, eyes flickering in between his.

His own gaze trailed downward, and noticed the slight cut on her bottom lip, which she must’ve gotten when she collapsed through the floor at Neibolt. She leaned forward a bit, brows raised slightly as she waited for him to either make a move or finish his sentence.

“What?” She asked again, impatiently, eagerly. “Richie, what-?”

“I’d just like to have a moment with you without Stan or Bev or Bill deciding I’m gonna mess this up, I know I’ll mess it up, and I’d just like to do it”

She giggled a bit at his argument, shaking her head at him and looking away for a moment. But as quickly as her confident had fizzled out, she remembered what Eddie had told her in the kitchen, and she glanced back up at him.

“Well, you have that moment now…” She suggested softly. “And I think you and I are the only ones in Derry who are awake” She added.

He chuckled, pushing his glasses up on his head to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Let’s put a hold on messing everything up so soon” He told her when he got his glasses fixed back on his nose.

(y/n’s) lips quirked into half a smile.

“I don’t think you’re going to mess anything up, Richie,” She murmured. “You’re in your head too much”

“I know,” He said, and gave her a smile. “But I don’t want to rush anything either,” She frowned at that, but he continued anyways. “There’s plenty of time to mess it up later. I’ll take my moment with you as it is now”

Fuck she swore her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

Richie goddamn Tozier was going to make her wait for him to make his move, and she knew all too well that she was just going to have to.

“Alright,” She murmured, looking out at the dark streets. “Whatever you want, Rich” ___

It had been a week since that night, and still, Richie hadn’t made his move.

(y/n) had spent more time with him in those seven days than she had in the past seven years of knowing him. Which was sad, but she was too excited to finally hang out with him to care.

She was at his side, everywhere he went. He taught her to play Street Fighter, mostly so that he had someone to play with him. She taught him twice how to use chopsticks. They spent nearly every night together watching some new lame movie that Richie swore she had to see. (y/n) couldn’t admit they were awful, he was just too excited to share them with her.

It was a nice.

They were at the arcade again, for the third time this week, which wasn’t a surprise. (y/n) was sipping on a slushie while watching Richie play Street Fighter. She’d refused to play with him after she beat him once and he didn’t talk to her the whole walk home.

“Come on, one game?” Richie asked, holding one of his own quarters out to her.

“Hm,” She pretended to think about it, chopping around the shaved ice in her cup with her straw. “No”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. You gave me the silent treatment over a game! Who does that?”

“I was just jealous that you bested me in battle, that’s all” Richie told her, making her laugh and shake her head.

“Why don’t you keep practicing then,” She said with a bright, fake smile. “Since you obviously need it”

He rolled his eyes while she laughed at him, turning back to his game.

“You’re goddamn lucky you’re cute, (y/l/n)” He grumbled.

The comment made her blush, but she teased him anyways.

“And why’s that?”

“Because if you weren’t, then I’d be stuck here with Eddie”

She laughed again, and this time he couldn’t hold back his own laughter.

The moment was cut short when someone neither of them expected walked into the arcade.

“W-we have a p-plan,” Bill Denbrough stuttered, looking between the two hopelessly. “And we n-need your h-help” ___

“Is this really a good idea?” Ben asked, peeking over the opening of the well.

(y/n) looked over as well, her heart plummeting to her stomach at the idea of having to climb down that thing.

“I-it’s the only one we g-got” Bill stuttered back.

One by one, they slid down the rope, and wedged into the tunnel. Bill, then Stan, then Eddie, and then Richie. (y/n) was shaking next to Mike, her hand holding his arm in a death grip.

“You’ll be alright,” He told her, taking his hand off of her before she could leave finger shaped bruises. “I’m right up here, and Richie’s right down there. You’ve done crazier things than this”

She nodded in silent gratitude at his reassuring words.

But just as she took the rope in her hands, and crouched down to hoist herself over the edge, a threatening voice echoed throughout the house.

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck out of my town!”

Henry.

“Go! Go now!” Mike told (y/n), who was still perched on the edge of the well.

The other Losers were hollering, voices mingling together in echoes throughout the well. She couldn’t quite tell what they were saying, but she knew they were trying to get her to move as fast as possible.

Henry had run towards Mike, throwing him to the ground and punching him across the face repeatedly.

“Mike!” (y/n) abandoned the rope, much to her friends’ dismay, and ran towards the fighting boys.

It took all her might to shove Henry off of Mike, and her momentary satisfaction was ruined as soon as he grabbed her wrist and threw her to the ground as well. It wasn’t until then that she saw the switchblade in his hand.

Instinct kicked in as she swept her leg upwards, kicking him as hard as she could manage in the gut, and then swung her other foot between his legs. This bought her a few seconds to scramble over to Mike, helping him up.

“Go on,” He told her, handing her the rope. She shook her head, but he shoved it into her hands. “Hurry, I’ll be right behind you”

He pulled the nail gun out of it’s holster, and (y/n’s) eyes widened, realizing what he was going to do.

“Go”

She didn’t need to be told a third time, throwing on leg over the well, and then the other.

Slowly, she shimmied herself down towards the opening, where Richie was front and center, waiting to help her in.

“Just a little further!” He called out to her.

She would’ve said something back, if her throat wasn’t closed up from her fear. Hearing Mike and Henry fighting each other off was all her senses could focus on, and she worried that something was going to go terribly wrong.

“(y/n)! Look out!” Mike screamed, and the girl barely had enough time to look up before Henry’s body was crashing down into hers, knocking her off of the rope.

“(y/n)!” Richie’s scream was hair raising as she fell a few feet.

But somehow, her hands snatched the rope again, burning her palms terribly as she cried out.

Someone grabbed her legs, and then her waist, and helped her off of the rope so Mike could come down. She was pulled into the opening and into a pair of arms.

She could tell by the smell of cigarettes and mint that it was Richie who was embracing her right now. She’d never been held so tightly before.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and cried into his neck, the near death experience making chills run down her spine. No one said anything while he held her, and they waited for Mike to come down. ___

When they made their way through the tunnel, Richie’s hand took hold of (y/n’s), and he didn’t dare let go.

Bill had gone off ahead of the rest of them, and the idea that he was out there somewhere by himself while a demonic clown was trying to kill everyone, horrified (y/n).

But finding Beverly floating ten feet in the air was worse than anything her mind could have come up with.

Her free hand clasped over mouth to hold back her shriek.

“Bev” Her voice came out in a whimper, and she pulled away from Richie to race towards the floating girl. She tried to leap up and grab her ankle, but was just out of reach.

“(y/n), (y/n)!” Richie called, and grabbed her waist before she could keep on jumping. “(y/n),” He spun her around, making her look up at him. “Take a breath, it’s alright, we’ll get her down, she’s going to be alright”

Her hands grabbed onto Richie’s arms, making sure he wasn’t going to let go of her anytime soon.

And he didn’t. While Stan and Ben worked together to pull Beverly down from the air, he kept his arm wound tightly around her waist.

(y/n) gasped involuntarily when Ben reached up and pressed his lips against Beverly’s. The other boys groaned, and everyone shared an awkward look. But they still waited eagerly to see what would happen.

When Beverly opened her eyes and took a deep breath, (y/n) nearly doubled over in relief.

“Oh, thank god,” She cried out, and rushed forward to hug the girl tightly. “I was so fucking worried about you”

The language caught Bev, well, everyone, off guard, but they thought it was best not to mention it.

“I’m okay, really,” Beverly responded as they pulled away. “Uh- where’s Bill?”

“We’re not totally sure…” Stan trailed off awkwardly. “But we’re gonna find him!” He added before Beverly could start yelling.

With that, the group took off in search of their leader.

(y/n) caught up to Richie, and took his hand again, interlocking their fingers.

He looked down at her, squeezing her hand in his, and the look on her face made his heart sink.

“Please promise me that you’re not going to die”

He stopped walking, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure they wouldn’t lose sight of their friends.

“No one’s dying,” He told her, not-so-convincingly. “But, you know, just in case…”

She didn’t get the chance to ask what he meant, because in one quick motion, he let go of her hand, cupped her cheeks, and leaned over a bit to kiss her. He’d done it so quickly, she barely had time to react.

That didn’t stop her from kissing him back, though.

Richie’s lips were much softer than she would’ve thought they’d be. She hoped they made it out of this alive so that she could kiss him again.

It wasn’t until they parted that (y/n) realized she was standing on her tiptoes, as she slowly stood back down flat on her feet. She bit her lip to keep from grinning to widely up at him.

“Yeah,” She hummed, and nodded her head slightly. “Just in case” She repeated.

Richie grinned back at her, nodding his head before taking her hand again and tugging her with him back towards the others. Her heart was pounding, with fear, with excitement, it was a big day.

Luckily they found Bill, not so luckily, he was being put in a chokehold by Pennywise.

“Holy fuck” Eddie muttered when they’d arrived on the scene.

“I’ll take you, I’ll take all of you,” It threatened, and (y/n) shuffled closer to Richie when it’s horrifying orange eyes. “Or… Just him,” He stroked a white gloved hand over Bill’s face. “And you can all leave”

“G-go” Bill stuttered out. Always the hero.

“You’ve ruined our summer Bill,” Richie muttered, walking towards him a bit. “It’s your fault,”

(y/n’s) heart dropped, and she winced as Richie said something so cruel when their friend’s life is in danger.

“You punched me in the face,” The boy continued. “You made me walk through shitty water- you brought me to a fucking crackhouse,” He shook his head, before reaching for something inside of the mountain of junk. “And now?” He looked down at the bat in his hands, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown”

Pennywise threw Bill to the side like a piece of meat, lunging towards Richie.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club, asshole!”

With a crack Richie swung the bat against Pennywise’s head, thus sparking the other Loser’s to find objects to beat up the clown with. Even (y/n) found a pipe and took a few hits.

That is, until It shapeshifted into Patrick Hockstetter, and suddenly all sense of confidence dissipated, and her fear returned, as she was knocked back onto the ground. Her pipe fell from her hand, not that it mattered, she couldn’t summon the courage to fight back.

“What’s wrong sweet girl?” It even sounded like Patrick. “You’re not still scared of me baby, are you?”

“Fuck off!”

The swing of Richie’s bat was a blur, but Patrick/It’s head spun to the side with a serious splintering noise that had to be It’s neck breaking. It growled, face slowly morphing out of Patrick’s, and back into the demented clown face.

(y/n) barely processed Richie’s arms hooking under hers, and pulling her up to her feet.

“You alright?”

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” She huffed, and Richie chuckled, shaking his head. “Richie- holy shit!”

Her moment was cut short when Beverly shoved an entire beam down It’s throat.

The others looked on with a mixture of horror and amazement, as blood spilled in thick streams up towards the air.

It crawled backwards, until it came to a hole in the ground that no one was sure had an end. The Losers didn’t tear their eyes away as It grinned at them, only mumbling one word, before he disappeared.

“Fear” ___

“So, babe,” Richie grinned at (y/n) as he plopped down next to her on his couch. “What would you like to address first, that thing with Patrick, or our undeniable sexual tension-?”

“Oh my god,” She giggled, shaking her head. “No, neither”

It had been a few days since the fight in the sewers. The Losers took some time both together and apart, trying to figure out how to cope, and how to stop their memories from deteriorating. Richie had invited (y/n) over to hang out.

Just (y/n). Which was new, but definitely welcomed.

“Too bad, we’re doin’ both, I was just being polite and letting you choose”

She gave him a look, silently asking him to leave it alone. But he just raised his brows and wore half a smile.

“(y/n/n), I told you, I don’t want to mess this up,” He told her softly. “So if we’re going to do this right, you’ve gotta be honest with me”

Despite not wanting to confess to Richie her deadly fear of Patrick Hockstetter, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. He really did surprise her with how sweet he was.

“You’re right,” She mumbled, and looked down at her lap for a moment. “Yeah, my uh… my fear was Patrick,” She told him, anxiously meeting his eyes. “He’s been messing with me for years now, and It figured that out…” She shrugged her shoulders.

Richie’s mouth was open, like he was trying, or wanted to say something, but nothing was coming to mind.

“He did the same thing with everyone else, right?” (y/n) asked. “Figured out their fear and used it against them, I’m no different-”

“Except you are,” He cut her off, staring at her seriously, so she knew he meant it. “I- I had no idea that Cockstetter was- that he-” He huffed defeatedly, and shook his head. “(y/n/n), I would’ve-”

(y/n) leaned forward then, placing her palm against his jaw and abruptly ended his talking, which was a difficult thing to do, for most.

“Richie,” She said his name breathlessly, and he fell in love with her all over again in a matter of seconds. “You’re so stupid. I like you so much it hurts”

He pulled a face at the first half of her statement, but still smiled.

“I like you too,” He murmured back. “And I’m not completely stupid, by the way. Just, like, sixty percent”

She giggled again, and shook her head at him.

“Anything else you want to mess up?” She asked, cocking her head to the side a bit.

“Just the sheets when I-”

“Beep beep, Richie” She mumbled, leaning in and kissing him, full on the mouth.

He smiled against her lips, before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him. He’d only kissed her twice, but that was enough to know that he wanted to do it forever.

“By the way,” She breathed when she pulled away from him. “If you take me to the arcade for our first date, I will beat you at Street Fighter”

He grinned back at her, cupping her face in his hands.

“You’re the fucking best” He said, making her smile before he leaned in and kissed her again.

“It’s about time you noticed” She giggled against his lips.

“Okay, now for something serious”

“Fine,” (y/n) sighed. “What is it”

“Rock paper scissors for who has to tell the others?”

She pulled a face, suggesting maybe they shouldn’t say anything at all.

“Okay, that’s fair” She agreed after Richie didn’t give in.

After he lost all three rounds, they decided they’d make it ‘officially official’ as Richie so eagerly called it. She rode with him on the back of his bike to meet everyone at the quarry.

All that was left to do now was live happily ever after.

___

(a/n): i don’t feel great about this, but like i said, it was written out of nowhere

xoxo ~ jordie

#it fanfiction #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader x reader

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dgalerab · 5 years

Text

5 times Eddie was very obvious + 1 time Richie actually got it

Eddie realizes he’s gay one year and four months after they kill Pennywise.

Or maybe that’s just when he admits it to himself. It’s irrelevant.

He decides he’s gay upon much reflection because Suzy Carter has a crush on him. The process is something like this: he’s ecstatic at first, because hell, he’s been the little runt with asthma that most of the school thinks is lame for so long, it’s great to be desired. Then he realizes he has to decide if he likes Suzy Carter the same way, and that’s more difficult.

She’s pretty. She’s pretty in a really cute way. Gentle and soft. Eddie could see himself kissing her and enjoying it. He’d probably be pretty flustered if he saw her in her underwear, too, but he doesn’t know if it’s a good flustered or a bad flustered. He doesn’t know at what point you’re supposed to consider a girl with her clothes off either.

But there’s always an element of “I suppose” in it, and after Pennywise, Eddie doesn’t really feel like taking the easy route. He’s tired of slinking around pretending to take his pills that he doesn’t need or kissing his mom goodbye when he doesn’t actually want to or worry about infected splinters when he’s watched Richie get five thousand splinters climbing trees and never seen his arms fall off.

Richie teases him nonstop about Suzy. Wow, he says. A girl into our little Eddie? Wow! A girl!

He says girl so many times, it doesn’t feel like a word anymore.

Eddie doesn’t think he wants a girl. Maybe he could settle for a girl, but he doesn’t want a girl. That’s a complicated feeling, and it dredges up a million and one fears. AIDS! Being shunned by society! His mother wailing about how she’d thought Eddie was a good little boy! Her blaming someone for corrupting him - Bev or Richie or Stan. Maybe Mike, just for good measure, just to get all the racism in there too.

Eddie shoves Richie aside and marches up to Suzy.

He can feel Richie’s eyes on him.

“Hi,” Eddie says.

“Hi,” she replies. “Did you think about… what I said?”

He nods. “I’m really, really flattered,” he says. “But I don’t think I feel the same way. I’m sorry.”

Her lip wobbles and her eyes are teary.

He plays with the straps of his backpack. “Um… I don’t know what’s the right way to reject someone, but… if you want a hug…?”

“Actually, yeah,” she says, and hugs him.

He pats her back. She smells nice, and it would be so easy to take it back, to date her instead and be… moderately happy? Content?

But he doesn’t. He squeezes her shoulders when she pulls away, sniffling, and smiles at her. “You’re gonna find someone who’s crazy about you,” he assures her. Because that’s never going to be Eddie. She’s really cute and she deserves better than “sure I guess.”

He walks back to Richie, who’s staring at him with his jaw hanging open. “What the fuck, dude?” he manages. “Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t like her,” Eddie says.

“But when she told you, you ran to us like she’d hung the moon!” Richie shouts.

Eddie doesn’t get why he’s so damn incensed by this, until he sees Richie’s pink cheeks and nervous little hand movements, and suddenly he does. “Well, it was nice to have someone like me,” Eddie says. He meets Richie’s eyes, and tries to be firm about the next sentence. “But she’s not my type.”

Richie stares at him. He’s picked up on the fact that Eddie’s insinuating something, but clearly not what, because the next words out of his mouth are a genuinely bewildered, “Not big enough tits?”

Eddie doesn’t want to come out. Not because he doesn’t think his friends won’t accept him, but because standing up in front of all of them and announcing, “Hello all, I, Eddie Kaspbrak, am at least 99.9% gay. Maybe even 100% gay,” sounds like the most mortifying experience in the universe. No one will know what to say, someone might even chime in with a duh and remind Eddie that he probably could have figured this out years ago if he hadn’t been so chickenshit about AIDS and his mother’s opinion.

So instead he tries to imply it. Aggressively.

The strong insistence that Suzy isn’t his type works on Stan, who simply quirks the corner of his mouth up and nods, and Bev, who winks at him.

Bill, on the other hand, says, “Sh-she was cute, though. I thought you l-liked her for sure.”

“That’s what I said!” Richie blurts. “But turns out Eddie’s only in this for the attention.”

“I’m sure it was nice to be liked,” Ben says patiently. “That doesn’t mean you feel the same way about the person who liked you.”

Eddie nods. “Exactly!”

“Eddie, the heartless egomaniac,” Richie sighs wistfully, and then they move on.

Later, when it’s just Bill and they’re walking home, Eddie says, “She was a girl.”

“Huh?” Bill says.

“Suzy is cute and all, but she’s a girl,” Eddie says, because it’s different with Bill.

“Oh,” Bill murmurs. “Okay, g-got it.” He cocks his head. “Does Richie know?”

“No,” Eddie says.

“He was r-really sad about Suzy,” Bill says. “He’ll n-never admit it, though.” He pauses. “I m-mean, I don’t even know if you l-like…”

Eddie pauses. He’s not sure. He tries to do the same mental math as he did for Suzy. Richie and his dumb glasses. His awful jokes…

He almost says no, and then he remembers Richie’s smile, with the buck teeth that he always gets made fun of for but which Eddie has always thought made his smile extra sweet. The way he bounces around and bumps into people, which seems annoying until you realize it’s a glowing manifestation of the glee Richie feels being with his friends.

The way he softened when he really needed to, the way he’d hugged Bill so tight down in the sewers they’d all been drawn in after him. The way he always looks at them for a reaction to his jokes even though he knows they won’t actually laugh because he just wants to be seen and he knows that even their sighing is a loving sighing.

“Fuck,” Eddie says. “Yeah, I do.”

“Are you going to t-tell him?” Bill asks.

“Jeez, no,” Eddie says. “He’ll panic and be obnoxious. He’ll figure it out.”

He doesn’t.

Mike and Ben do, though. Richie’s still babbling about Eddie’s type, and Eddie is putting sticks into his thick black hair. “Stop me when I’m getting big enough,” Richie says, miming an ever growing pair of tits. “Is this your type yet?”

“I’ll show you my type,” Eddie grows, grabbing Richie’s hands and smashing them into his face.

Ben smiles, immediately understanding the hidden romance in the gesture, and Mike grins like he’s known for a while.

Richie on the other hand, says, “Tits so big they’re in her face?! Jeez, Eddie Spaghetti, you horndog!”

Eddie sighs, sharing a look with Stan. “Richie, you’re so fucking dumb,” Stan says.

Richie blinks at them. “What? Can’t a guy ask his buddy what kind of tits he likes?” he asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about boobs,” he offers.

Richie wrinkles is nose. “Then what do you care about?”

He’s so lost and it’s so cute, Eddie can’t help but tease. “I don’t like blondes. I like brown hair. The darker the better.”

“Ah-HA!” Richie says. “Oooh, what about Nancy Bedford? Her hair’s black and I’m sure she likes you too, our cute little Spaghetti.” He squeezes Eddie’s face and makes kissing noises.

Eddie groans, and lets him keep raving.

Eddie really thinks the hammock will get him.

He really, really thinks that it can’t get more obvious than that. He’s sitting on top of Richie, legs in his face, and Richie just keeps talking. His hand settles against Eddie’s thigh, very still, and Eddie knows he sees what this is. But he doesn’t mention anything.

He starts to worry that maybe he and Bill misread this. That Richie doesn’t have a crush on him, doesn’t like him at all, that maybe…

He catches Richie’s eyes on him, just for a moment, before he’s looking back at his comic book, the tiniest pink dusting his cheeks.

Yep, Eddie thinks. Richie definitely likes him, he’s just dumb.

They start talking about getting an apartment together. Stan does the math on how they could swing an apartment with Richie and Mike already working jobs, and after Ben and Bev get together, they decide on a three bedroom apartment. All of them living together.

It’s a small place, and they do some arguing about who will room with who. “You, me and Stan,” Richie crows. “The Three Musketeers!” He grabs a fork off Eddie’s tray. “En garde!”

“Actually, I think it should be just the two of us,” Eddie says.

Richie cocks his head at him. “Why?”

“Because,” Eddie says. “It’s the two of us.”

Richie frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Eddie sighs. “You’re unbelievable.” It’s been nearly two years and Richie still hasn’t picked up on this. Eddie should really just tell him, but it feels like admitting defeat.

“Are you keeping secrets from me, Eds?” Richie teases.

“I’m really not,” Eddie replies.

Richie looks nervously between him and Stan’s pinched look and whispers, “Does Stan not want to bunk with me?”

Stan frowns at him. “Why wouldn’t I want to bunk with you?”

“It’s just… there’s rumors,” Richie mumbles. “And… And I… Well I…”

Stan raises a brow. “Richie,” he says softly. “You can tell us things, you know that, right?”

Richie twists the ends of his Hawaiian shirt in his hands, and Eddie watches in horror as tears well up in his eyes. “I guess… um… if we’re living together…” he says, “you should know.”

The rest of them turn to look at him. “Richie,” Bill says, gentle as a feather. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t hate me,” Richie pleads. “But it’s true. I’m a... a f--”

“Gay?” Stan interjects, before he can say it the way he intended.

Richie sobs, soft and quiet, and nods. Eddie’s heart breaks. He tries to say something comforting, but the best he manages is, “Yeah. Me too.”

Richie stops short. “What?”

“Me too,” Eddie says. “I haven’t been subtle about it, either.”

“And…” Richie says, looking at everyone else. “Did you tell everyone but me?”

“I only told Bill,” Eddie says. “The rest of them just figured it out by the themselves.”

“So everyone knows?”

“All of us,” Eddie says. “I haven’t been flaunting it elsewhere, but yeah. You were the only one who didn’t pick up on it.”

“Really?” Richie says, sniffling as he wipes away tears. “And none of you mind?”

“Of course we don’t mind, dummy,” Bev says. “We’re the Losers club.”

“Oh,” Richie says. “Wait, is that why we should room together? Because we could both plausibly be into the others?” Richie looks up, panicked. “Not that I am! No funny business here, nosiree!”

“No,” Stan says, rolling his eyes. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?” Richie asks.

Stan looks at Eddie, thoroughly tired. Eddie feels the same way. “Frankly,” he says, “you’re just very annoying.”

Now that Richie is out to them, Eddie ramps it up. He knows Richie has feelings for him, he just knows it. But at this point, it’s a game. They all have bets on when Richie will figure it out.

He works summer jobs in order to have enough money to take Richie on dates. Richie and Mike pay the bills - Richie works at the bar and Mike quickly goes from handyman to lighting technician at the theater. But whenever they go on dates, Eddie always insists on paying, because what better way to prove that it’s a date?

But that doesn’t work.

So Eddie starts holding Richie’s hand. He puts his arm around Richie for movie nights. He kisses Richie’s cheeks playfully. He lays down in Richie’s bed with him to chat.

Richie jokes it all off, even though Eddie can see him blushing and biting his lips and leaning into Eddie all soft and needy.

Maybe he just thinks they’re dating. Maybe he didn’t need to have a talk. Maybe he thinks Eddie is going slow.

But then, every month, he’ll find some guy Eddie talks to more often because of class or schedules or whatever reason and he’ll flutter his lashes and ask if that’s Eddie’s new beau.

At this point, Eddie’s starting to think he could literally make out with Richie and Richie would think it was a Good Ol’ Friendly Round of Tonsil Hockey.

And frankly, Eddie is tempted to see how he’d justify it, because at this point, there’s no way he can stop this before seeing how far he has to go to get through Richie’s thick skull.

“I’m a terrible person,” Richie says.

Eddie blinks at him. He’d gotten Richie a new GameBoy for Christmas, as well as a ring inscribed Trashmouth, just as a wildly absurd hint in a long line of increasingly absurd hints. It’s not fancy enough to be an engagement ring, but it’s still a ring and there’s no way it won’t ring any bells even in Richie’s empty skull.

But now Richie’s staring at the ring somberly, and Eddie thinks he might have fucked up.

“How’s that?” he asks.

“We’re friends,” Richie says. “And I know you don’t feel that way about me, but every time you’re all touchy feely or... accidentally romantic with me, I pretend. I pretend and I dream about you kissing me and sleeping with me for real and… and… And I shouldn’t do that. It’s so fucked up. You’re a really, really good friend and I shouldn’t be… thinking about… when I know that…”

Eddie stares at him. “How do you know?”

Richie frowns at him. “Huh?”

“How do you know I don’t feel that way about you?”

Richie opens and closes his mouth. “I mean…” he says, slowly, “Why would you?”

Eddie can’t help it. He laughs.

“Please don’t laugh at me,” Richie mumbles. “Not about this.”

“I can’t help it,” Eddie says, putting a hand on Richie’s cheek. “You’re just really stupid.”

Richie stares at him, eyes extra wide behind his thick glasses. “Eddie,” he says, “now you’re just being cruel.”

“So stupid,” Eddie says, thumbing at his cheek. “And sweet, and handsome, and clever, and kind, and fun and…”

“Is this like when you hugged Suzy because you felt bad about letting her down?” Richie asks.

“Jesus fuck, Richie, no,” Eddie says. “It’s really not.”

And then he kisses Richie.

Richie whimpers, slumping into the kiss like he’s dying for it. His hands come up, so tentative, so helpless, to touch Eddie’s face. “Wait,” Richie says, pulling away. “Have we been dating this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”

“Oh,” Richie says. “Oh.”

“I didn’t realize you were so hurt,” Eddie says, holding his arms out for Richie. “I wouldn’t have teased so much.”

“I… I probably should have asked,” Richie says sheepishly, sliding into the offered hug.

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “I guess I’ll have to make it up to you by telling you how very much I love you ever day for the rest of forever.”

“Oh, well, in that case, yes, I’m very mad,” Richie jokes, hiding his face into Eddie’s shoulder. He lets out an excited little squeal as he gets it for real. “We’re dating!”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah we are.” He snorts. “Also, Bill just lost a lot of money.”

“Oh, you gambling assholes.”

#reddie #it #here you go #by popular demand #okay it was like 3 people but

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