#richie tozier x depressed reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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

—

“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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multifandomwriter5 · 3 years

Text

the quarry | richie tozier x fem!reader

warnings: some angst, fluff, kissing

dicription: y/n goes to the quarry only to find richie tozier himself crying on the cliff.

age: 15+

y/n was bored and a little pissed off, she needed time alone to think and she knew the perfect place.

she biked over to the quarry, it was practically abandoned, no one ever went there, only the losers and they didn’t make plans that day, so she could have time away from the rest of the loud world and listen to some music on her walkman, or so she thought.

when she threw her bike to the floor she noticed a familiar curly haired boy in a hawaiian shirt slouching at the edge of the high cliff immediately making her forget her problems.

“richie?” y/n called confused and conceded on why her best friend is sitting alone instead of going to the arcade like he usually does when he’s not with the rest of the losers, richies head snapped up and y/n noticed his hands whipping his face and fixing his glasses “y/n, what are you doing here?” he asked, y/n immediately knew something was wrong, richie didn’t sound like his normal joking self, he would have called her by one of his many stupid nicknames he had saved just for her and gotten out of his seat to great her, but instead he stayed stitting not saying anything more “i could ask you the same thing tozier, now are you going to make me ask what wrong or are you going to tell me?” she wondered “nothing y/n/n, just bored,” he lied “richie you’re shit at lying, what happened?”-she asked again this time he stayed completely silent, embarrassed that she’d walked in on him feeling sorry for himself-“rich, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” y/n asked realizing she sounded a little insensitive before “yeah, i-i know that, but really it’s no big deal,” he sighed, he really didn’t want to talk about his depressing home life right now, nor was he ready to open up about it, y/n could see that he wasn’t ready for this talk so she didn’t push him, instead she sat next to him and placed her head on his shoulder “ok, do you want me to go?” she asked not wanting to overstep “no, stay please,”.

as much as richie would rather deal with this alone he didn’t want her to leave, he wanted her with him, he wanted her to comfort him, hug him and tell him that he’s going to be okay and that she’s there for him, that she loves him, but he knew it was out of reach, he knew he would never be good enough for her, i mean if his own parents don’t want him, why would she?

minuets passed and a comforter silence fell over the two of them, y/ns head was still placed on richies shoulder as her eyes fell closed, and richie was slowly starting to feel better now that y/n was with him.

“y/n?” richies small voice echoed through the empty quarry “mmm?” she humid in response “thank you, for not leaving me,” y/n could tell that he was talking about more than just today and that knoledge hurt her, whoever hurt him, they hurt him badly “richie, i’m not going anywhere,” she told him seriously, “i hope so,” he muttered barely loud enough for her to hear, but she caught it somehow and sighed.

y/n has known richie since they were kids, she knows almost everything about him, she hates seeing him like this, she hates that he’s hurting, and she hates the person who made him feel this way, more then that, she wants him to be happy.

if y/n knew anything about richie it’s that he’d much i rather avoid the problem then deal with it and as much as he should deal with what’s bothering him right now, y/n also knew he wasn’t ready so instead of making him think about it even more she suggested swimming to get their minds off of it “yeah, sure hot stuff,” richies signature grin was placed back in its regular place on his lips making y/n smiling softly at him, happy to see him back to his trash mouth self.

the two of them stripped down to their undergarments and jumped into the cold water together. “holy fucking shit it’s cold!” richie shierked like a child as he resurfaced y/n laughed at him while shivering.

they spent hours goofing around, laughing, talking, chasing each other around, and having splash wars. they forgot everything.

somehow the two were now only inches away from each other, y/n could see every freckle on richies face, richie took in every feature on y/ns face, he noticed how her wet hair stuck to it, he saw how her lips were slightly parted open, and how she looked like she was in deep thought.

y/n didn’t know what took over her but she felt herself being pulled to richie, like there was a force pulling her closer and it was out of her control. their lips barely brushed before richies senses kicked in and he realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her as close to him as he could and closed the space between their lips, and y/n felt her stomach flip in the best way possible.

things heated up quickly, soon their young’s were fighting for dominance, y/ns hands were in richies hair pulling at strands and richie was gripping y/ns waist like she would disappear if he let go. y/n let out a breathy moan as richie lightly but down on her bottom lip before pulling away for air.

“that was hot y/n, where the fuck did you learn how to do that?!” richie asked shocked at what had just happened but also beyond happy that it did, not even now could richie stay quiet “oh shut up rich,” y/n giggled letting her head fall onto his bare chest “no really y/n/n, and when can we do it again!?” richie asked again and y/n look up at him once more, she gave him a chaste kiss before swimming away “you’ll have to catch me first,” she called.

#it 2017 #it fanfiction #it ben hanscom #it richie #it bill #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #richie tozier #richiebeepbeeptozier #beep beep richie #richie x reader #it mike #pennywise #finn wolfhard #x reader #richie toizer x reader

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stenbrozier · 4 years

Text

Reader with Anxiety (Losers Club x Reader)

Warnings: mentions and description of characteristics of anxiety disorders (I.e panic attacks, depressive episodes)

A/N: I have really bad anxiety and I kinda wanted to write about that through an “x reader” :)) My requests are still open!! So if you have any, please message me 🥺

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- You met Stanley when you were little because you were his next door neighbor

- You had always been very skiddish and you didn’t like being in places where there were too many people

- Stanley would stay by your side in school and would protect you and calm you down

- But then he became friends with Richie Tozier and that boy made you shake like a leaf

- He didn’t mean to be loud, he just was and he was always yelling at Stanley or your new friend, Eddie Kaspbrak

- Eddie was also really good and calming you down, and you needed him now more then ever cause Richie and Stanley were so close

- Stan and Eddie both know how to comfort you (giving you apple slices and holding your hand)

- And Richie soon learns, too

- As you guys got older, you’d get more used to Richie and you would also be able to bring up the confidence to introduce yourself to Bill, the new kid, when you guys were all in 2nd grade

- You all got really close and all four of the boys looked out for you

- So after roughly 6 or 7 years of friendship, when Pennywise terrorized you guys and you made new friends

- They could tell that your anxiety was worse than before

- You were always shaking, a slight crowd would make you cry, and you wouldn’t talk to anyone new

- Like you didn’t talk to Bev or Ben or Mike unless you were talking to the entire group

- Surprisingly, Richie helped you a lot with your anxiety this time

- They would all comfort you if you had a panic attack in school or if you just needed someone to hold you for the night

- There were times when you wouldn’t go to school or Losers hang outs for a whole week and they took care of you

- You had Richie who would sneak in with movies and cuddle you

- Or Eddie who’d bike over to drop off apple slices and other snacks that you he remembered you liking as a little kid

- Stan would send you new books to read

- And Bill would draw you things you could hang around your room

- It took Bev, Ben, and Mike a while to understand your anxiety, but once they knew how it affected you, they took care of you, too

- Bev was your quintessential female best friend that you could just cry to without being embarrassed

- Mike also became a shoulder to cry on for you, but it was a little different with him because he didn’t understand feelings right well

- He’d kinda just hold you and rub your back

- And Ben would write you poems or he’ll help you with the lessons you’ve been missing

- They all encourage you to come out of your shell and to try and openly communicate when you’re anxious instead of holding it in

- So you don’t get days or weeks when you feel so shitty you can’t get out of bed

- And sometimes, if it does happen, they all come to your house and drag you down to the living room to have a nice quiet movie date with you

- They don’t force you to talk or engage, but they do encourage smiles and cuddles

#it chapter one imagines #it chapter two imagines #stanley uris x reader #richie tozier x you #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #beverly marsh x reader #ben hanscom x reader #bill denbrough x reader #losers club x reader #losers club #masterlist

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anxiouslymalicious · 4 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 9

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series.

Read the previous part here or go here for the full masterlist!

A/N: Hi! As always, I want to apologise for being shit at updating but a lot is happening at the moment and I’m hella stressed out and hella depressed and hella anxious but that’s okay.

This is about 3.5k words and the usual warnings apply. I hope you enjoy!

Y/N didn’t question what Richie was doing. She didn’t feel she had the power to. So, instead, she tried to muster up the most confused expression she felt capable of. Richie, almost maniacally, pulled her back outside to the car and made her sit down in the front seat. He finally noticed her looking on, in a stupor, not moving. Her face looked almost blank, only a hint of wonder lightening it up.

“I- I can’t. I can’t just leave them here. We can’t leave them here. We are Losers and Losers stick together.” Richie told his daughter, gently cupping her cheek. He was hoping for some kind of reaction but, upon receiving none, let a watery breath escape his lips. He felt tears stinging in his eyes yet again, before adding another whispered explanation.

“Stan wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want me or you leaving our friends behind. He wouldn’t want me leaving Eddie behind.”

With that, she nodded a little, facial expression still unphased. Richie shot Ben a quick text, letting him know that he and the little Tozier would meet them at the library, that they had gone out for a quick smoke or whatever. Given that he and Bev started smoking like a chimney at a younger age than her, he thought the excuse sounded pretty believable.

Impatiently, he drove through the town. Richie’s fingers were restless against the cold leather of the steering wheel. He tried to distract himself, tried desperately to recognise the buildings around him, the streets and faces, something he could hold on to. Richie felt like his life was slipping through his own hands like sand, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hold it together.

Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, face growing a grim expression and his jaw started clenching, all going unnoticed by himself.

What didn’t go unnoticed by Richie, though, was his presumed daughter’s hand on his wrist. He spared her a little glance which was all it took for Richie to step off the gas a little and lean back in his seat. He was still nervous, but the reassurance and worry in the big, familiar eyes of his daughter calmed him a little. Richie knew she didn’t hate him. He could read it in her eyes.

And he was right. Despite everything, she couldn’t hate Richie. He made a mistake, yes, but there were more important matters at hand right now. Besides, Richie didn’t love her any less, right? She could still pretend everything was alright. They could go back home once all of this was over and pretend it never happened. But, of course, it had happened and couldn’t be undone. The thought of Richie not truly being her father weighed heavily on her chest and would continue to do so until she knew for certain. And she feared whatever a stupid little test might say. Because, no matter what, their relationship wouldn’t be the same. Y/N felt like something had been taken from her, as stupid as it sounded. Because Richie was right beside her, it was just like she couldn’t look at him like she did before.

The town was slowly growing colder to the girl. Not weather-wise, no. She felt that Derry didn’t care about them. She felt that no one in that town would notice if they needed help. She felt that the town wouldn’t care if each of the Losers died, stiff bodies recovered later that day, not even a lousy newspaper article would be written about the bodies. And it terrified her.

“Dad?” Y/N whispered, voice breaking as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up straight, embracing herself. Richie, a little surprised to hear her call him that, tried to look at her as he was navigating the car through the streets. Quick glances were casted her way until he finally had the chance to properly look at her as they reached a red traffic light.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Richie now asked. His lips were parted as he didn’t know what to expect, brows furrowed in confusion, but also a little curiosity.

“We’ll be alright… Right?” Y/N asked, raw fear very prominent in her voice. She looked at Richie with the eyes of the child she used to be. Many situations popped into Richie’s head. Moments when she had been terrified, almost petrified by the pure horror crawling under her skin, as she had asked the same question. He had always had an answer. And he had always been right. Because that was easy. Like when he saw the little girl with her pigtails (braided by Richie himself) in the doorway of her classroom on her very first day of school. She had been incredibly intimidated by the other students, but he told her that she would be alright if only she went in there with an open mind and a friendly face. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time she was scared of giving a presentation in middle school that her teachers would base a lot of her grade on. She was crying at her desk, little cards with notes carefully written out were strewn mindlessly around the table as her panicked eyes were directed to her laptop, presentation opened. She was scared of failing her class. Richie told her that there was nothing to be scared of. Failing a class wasn’t the end of the world, he had failed more classes than he could count himself. He told her that she was incredibly bright, told her to keep him in her mind and she would ace that presentation. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time Richie had to undergo surgery after miraculously breaking his nose. He had never told his daughter how exactly it happened, but she had called a taxi to drive them to the hospital where Richie was quick to be put under medication and have a surgery scheduled. She was standing by his side in tears, broken heart beating painfully in her chest as she watched her father grow loopy. Richie had enough of a straight mind to lay his wired-up hand on her cheek and give her the most reassuring smile he could. She was scared that Richie wouldn’t come back to her, that he would fall asleep and never wake up again. Richie’s smile faltered a little as his mind reminded him that there could be serious consequences to a surgery, but he was quick to shake that thought off. He told her that it was just a quick fix of his beauty. Told her that she should follow the nurses, they would be taking care of her, and after a bit of time he would be as good as new. He told her that all she needed was a little faith and patience, and trust. He told her that he wouldn’t ever leave her to fight for herself like that. He wouldn’t leave her alone. She did. And Richie was right.

But now was different. This was bigger than a surgery, a broken heart, a presentation or a first day of school. This was much bigger. And now, Richie was the one to be terrified, skin prickling with fear, cold sweat on the back of his neck, with no answer on his mind.

“Yes,” he rung out, “If you believe that we will be.”

With that, the car grew silent again, the only exception being the Beatles, singing for Help. A bitter smile grew on Richie’s lips as he remembered the flyer for ‘Richie Tozier’s All Dead Rock Show’.

“There must be some kind of way out of here…” mumbled the man to himself, shuddering as he thought about his encounter with the clown.

Despite his talk with his daughter, despite her telling him that it was okay for him to feel love for men, Richie still wasn’t sure. It was still one of the easiest ways to hurt Richie. But he couldn’t deny that it hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. The thought that Y/N would support him, regardless of who he loved, comforted him immensely. It was easier for him to make the clown piss off.

“Said the joker to the thief.” Y/N continued, turning the bitter smile into a genuine. A huffed breath escaped Richie, a cruel, self-deprecating joke on his lips, as he was about to reply, but swallowed it down instead as the old library building came into view. He felt the tips of his fingers go numb as he thought of the story Ben had told them of his first encounter with IT.

Slowly, painfully so, did the car roll closer to the building before coming to a gentle halt as Richie gracefully parked the expensive car. Y/N didn’t waste a minute and got out of the car the second the car stood securely, marching up the stairs to the heavy front door of the old building. She thought that Richie would take ages to muster up his courage again, which was why she sought the peaceful distance, but to her utter surprise, Richie was fast on his feet, almost eager to go to Mike, the man who hadn’t got a clue of any of the shit that was going on. Blissfully unaware somewhere in that building, hiding away between the thick books. He was probably happily reading through his notes on the history of Derry, the unawareness a constant companion. Or so Richie thought. Because, in truth, Mike was fighting for his life with a man he didn’t think he’d ever encounter again. Especially not in such a cruel way.

Richie, surprisingly, didn’t enter the library with a bang. Something held him back. It was like something was trying to quieten him, to make his and his daughter’s presence unknown to whoever or whatever else was in the building with them.

Y/N felt cold as she watched the eerily quiet library.

“Is Mike late or-“ she started, but didn’t get to finish her sentence for Richie shushed her, not letting her utter another sound. At first, just for a few seconds, she didn’t understand, an uncomfortable coil tied up in her chest. That was, until she saw the pure focus on Richie’s face. Furrowed eyebrows, tongue poking out just a little between his lips as he strained his old ears, hoping to pick up the faint sounds yet again.

And suddenly, she did too. The grunts were quiet, almost not audible if they had as much as walked through the library, searching the bookshelves. It seemed that even the lightest breeze could have drowned the sounds out, but once they heard them, they were there. And neither of the pair had any kind of doubt. Someone was struggling. Badly.

“Stay here.” Richie grumbled out before falling into a sprint. As quickly as he could, he moved up the stairs, hoping for the grunts to grow louder, to grow more present, but most importantly, he was hoping that they wouldn’t stop.

A glint of light caught Richie’s eye. A glass case was attached to one of the dark walls. An axe to be used in case of emergency, as the sign told him. Presumably, in case of a fire. The man jerked his clothed elbow against the glass, shattering it easily.

“This is an emergency after all.” Richie said to himself before turning around and running further upstairs. His lungs were burning with the effort. Something he wasn’t used to anymore. It was at that moment that he cursed his younger self for picking up that very first cigarette, the thing of all evil, basically. He shook his head. No time for thoughts of that sort.

It wasn’t until he reached the top of the stairs that the grunts and screams finally seemed close. And they were. Behind the door, Richie was met with the back of someone kneeling above his friend. Things weren’t looking good for Mikey. Richie didn’t even feel as though he was the one acting in that moment. He liked to think that it was some weird out-of-body experience, controlled by the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins, fueling his body.

Y/N had been hot on his trail, running just after him. She didn’t feel safe on her own, not even with the assurance of the mirror shard still in her pocket as a weapon. She arrived just in time to watch as her father raised the axe and rammed it into the man’s head, not a trace of hesitation in his actions. It was almost frightening to watch the lifeless body slump to the ground. Y/N almost felt like she could watch the life seep out of the man’s body with every drop of blood that left his body. Richie tried to make a joke, but was interrupted by his own body as he doubled over, emptying his stomach as a shrill scream escaped his daughter’s lips.

Y/N stumbled back, falling against the wall behind her, only to slide down to the ground. She too felt sick to the pit of her stomach, but she tried to suppress the bile from coming up. Instead, she scooted closer to the wall, instinctively curled up against the cooling surface as she watched the crimson stain the ground, the puddle growing bigger by the second.

Hands clasped together before her mouth in disbelief, she tried her best to breathe evenly, but any rational thought had left her brain. Y/N felt cold, her body shook heavily with fear clawing at her. It wasn’t until she heard a different scream, a feminine voice, that she noticed how her father was desperately trying to catch her attention, blocking her view of the body with his own body.

The other Losers filled the room, one more shocked than the other. Eddie’s face was almost as white as the gauze on his cheek when he entered the room, anxious eyes immediately analysing the situation. Until his eyes finally found the Toziers sitting on the ground, Richie desperately trying to get any kind of reaction out of Y/N, any reaction other than fear. Eddie shot Mike, who was still on the ground, a sympathetic smile before dropping to his knees by the duo.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, it’s uncle Eds. It’s alright, you’re alright.” Eddie muttered as the rest of the bunch took care of Bowers’ body and Mike, who felt as shaky as a leaf in late autumn months.

Slowly, her eyes travelled to the smaller man, the fear never leaving them, but they were moving. She was with them.

“Uncle Eds?” Richie whispered to himself as he leaned against the wall next to Y/N, letting Eddie take over for a moment. His hand stayed on her knee though, eyes intently watching their every move.

Ragged breaths escaped her pale lips.

“You’re alright. We’re all alright.” Eddie continued his soothing mantra.

“Dad- the man- he killed him-“ her gaze jumped between the two men in front of her, her instincts tried to get another look at the dead body, but Eddie wouldn’t let her, hoping that his body would fully block the view as Richie kept her body planted in place, gently but firmly, with his arm around her shoulders.

“It was self-defence. He needed to do that.”

“But- but-“ her lips quivered terribly as she looked up at Eddie, eyes huge. Her mind had a hard time understanding just what was happening, but it was slowly catching up with the situation. “I’m scared.” She finally whimpered out and with that, the dam broke and fat tears rolled down her reddened cheeks.

Eddie and Richie both embraced the girl as she broke down. The other Losers watched with sorrow, watched as the little girl broke down. Mike, who felt like he was the one at fault to put her through all of this, felt a stabbing pain in his chest as a few tears of his own managed to push past the barrier. The other Losers didn’t feel any less to blame, though. Each of them were thinking about what they could have done to protect her rather than stand by and watch as the town, but mostly IT, mercilessly tore her down, broke her spirit until nothing would be left, not even a will to survive.

Silently, Bev looked over her shoulder at Ben and Mike, both sat on the ground, who only needed the one pained expression on her face. They understood. No words needed to be spoken.

“It’s okay to be scared. But you can’t let the fear take over you. Not now. You’re stronger than that.” Eddie explained to the girl, feeling her tears against his clothes. His chin was resting on top of her head. Suddenly, a stinging sensation in his cheek made him cringe, but it was quickly replaced by his heart feeling as though someone was squeezing it tightly. Richie had nuzzled his own head against both of their heads. And with that, Eddie suddenly realised just how close he was to Richie. Arms embracing not only Y/N, but also each other, clinging to each other, Richie’s head lovingly nudging Eddie’s cheek, the closeness of their hands-

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Said Y/N, pushing out of the warming embrace, accidentally breaking the two lovers apart, as she stumbled just out the door to empty her stomach.

“Are you alright?” Ben finally asked, looking towards Mike. Richie, who was helping his friend get back to his feet, trying to put some distance between himself and Eddie. It felt so nice, embracing his daughter with the man he loved, but at the same time, it was intimidating. He still had no reassurance, nor did he have the courage to confess to Eddie how he felt.

“No, I’m not! I just fucking killed someone!” Richie replied, confused at the stupid question. Ben and Mike looked at each other carefully for a moment.

“I was talking to Mike.” He continued, earning an almost insulted glare from Richie. Y/N was coming back into the room, eyes travelling from Richie to Eddie, sadly realising the distance them. It was strange to her, watching them bicker and move closer with every ‘your mom’ joke they made, hold onto each other in moments of fear and doubt and yet move away from each other as far as possible once they realised what they had been doing all along.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Y/N asked suddenly, voice loud and clear despite her shaking body. All eyes were on Y/N for a second before everyone’s eyes travelled to the person she was looking at. Eddie.

“Oh… uh… Bowers stabbed me.” Eddie replied, feeling not only Y/N’s eyes on him. Richie was eyeing him carefully, worry flooding him. He wasn’t there, he could have helped. But he was too busy being a coward to protect one of his closest friends, the man he admittedly liked in a romantic way.

Richie watched as Y/N stepped closer to Eddie, eyes not leaving the huge white patch on his face that had gone unnoticed as the adrenaline took hold over their bodies yet again that day. Richie bit his lip, trying to bite away the familiar stinging of tears behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not there, not then.

Y/N hugged Eddie tightly. He was a little thrown off-guard, hesitating just a little before embracing her too.

“I feel like we can’t be trusted on our own. We’ll just end up hurt.” She said seriously, causing the group to chuckle a little.

Something was strange about the sound. Mike examined the group for a moment. Then, he felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked around the room and saw all the Losers, minus one.

“Where is Bill?”

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!)

@whereyoustand @bellero @shockwavee @daniellajocelyn @robindoesntloveme @halefirewarrior @ucy161 @captainshazamerica @catscrochet @gabiatthedisco @strangemaximoff @robynel @the-summer-of-39 @sammy-salamander @majorlyextra @im-justafangirl @bohemiancrue @weebishtae @nobody7102 @creativedogs @sirenjules @littlemaeve @precious-bands-love @darth-dorle @zigabrielle @ggclarissa @bat-shark-repellant @zoemassingale @avengerswon @artlovingbre @supernovavision @eggytozier @eeemmiillyyyy @russian-romanova @isweareverythingsalright @supernatural3002 @intoomuchfandoms @detroitbecomevenom @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @keeley-virgo @deviantly-gayy @thedragonofgallifrey @sycard @sassy-specter @psychosupernatural @jerkyheree-michaelm3ll @chros-nomsworth @princesskhy @chocolatecakeandme @felicityofbakerstreet @transparentaliencookiehoagie @danas-wonderland @paige-howell-lester @1800kaspbrak @donteatmycookiesplease @im-justafangirl @finalfemm @tozierskaspb @afictionaladventure16 @morgan-macguire @niallisworld @sp00kymonthenthusiast @blancastans @delicately-important-trash @blue-paradise-girl @im-a-rocketman @emiliesnowflake @peachysinnermon @whatsupsherl0ck @wheezy-kasp-brak @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @ilovetaquitosmmmm @markiismoo @your-not-invisible-to-me @oisek-si @itsarandomsparkle @queen-fam @antivscogirl @fear-epidemic @burner-cell @cait-elizabeth @kind-sober-and-fully-dressed-99 @srtafarrell @opalof @x0softxgirl0x @cocastyle @themagicianssister @adritozier @the-almost-perfect-username @edwardspaghedwardtozier @attractiveugly @cait-scribbles @bethanyb1110 @the-almost-perfect-username @spacelesbianfanclub @alisoncdariel @pinklyrium @leetaemintrashnumber1 @tozierwheelerwolfhard @stress-and-obsess @httpstannie @purple-brainstorm @bitch-imma-head-out @sleepygal124 @mellorine-paprika @im-an-assho1e @vergassdottir @brooke1419 @shherlxck @lauren-novak @increasinglygeeky @babyyydalis @hotgod-amess @queen1054

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years

Note

Hey, could I get a Richie X reader. Nothing specific. Just something fluffy cause I’m feeling like absolute shit. I just had to deal with my mom yelling at me and making my ball my eyes out. Making me fall into a deep depressed state. And some fluff would make me feel so much better. Please and thank you. Sorry to bother you.

RICHIE WITH THE NICE ARMS

PAIRING: Richie Rozier x Reader

WORD COUNT: 565

SUMMARY: You're having a terrible night once again which led you outside your house to get some fresh air. And maybe let out a tear or two. However, the universe had other plans as your hot neighbour, Richie Tozier, had been taking out the trash at the very same time.

A/N: I'm so sorry annon for being so late with this! But this is somewhat one of my favs. Also, i keep thinking how Richie could be a serial killer :/

PS: reader is gender neutral!

MASTERLIST

The sound of a door slammed shut caught attention. Richie had been taking the trash for the night when he sees you at the doorstep of your house. There were tears in your eyes; you had been crying again.

You then spot him, involuntarily letting out a yelp as your hand flew to your chest.

"Oh my God, I-I didn't see you there." you were now smiling, furiously wiping your tears away.

He flashes a small smile, closing the lid of the bin. "Sorry..." he says sheepishly. You go to sit at the doorsteps, desperately trying to hold back your tears. Not in front of the hot neighbor, please. "Rough day, huh?"

You snort, eyeing Richie as he fixed his glasses. "Tell me about it."

"Why don't you tell me about it instead?" He's raising an eyebrow, arms crossed.

He's pretty jacked for a complete nerd if you were to be honest now that his arms were pretty much visible.

With a sigh, you let yourself smile for first time this week. Things had really started to go downhill for the past few days yet you somehow found comfort in the company of Richie, a guy you merely said a word or two to. "Please. And listen to me rambling off about my depressing problems? I could go on for hours, Richie."

You find yourself unconsciously standing up as you stood by the foot of the doorsteps you once sat.

Richie smiles at this. Your sarcasm is charming and brilliant.

"Wait here. I'll be back."

You were instantaneously bewildered, brows turned into a frown as you watched the man run awkwardly back into his house. You're approaching the fence that separated the two houses, glancing back to yours just in case your parents saw.

It's not like you were doing anything wrong to begin with.

Sitting by the bench conveniently by the fence, you curiously continued to watch the entrance of his door. You weren't sure what you were waiting for.

Is this the way you would finally die?

The sound of the door slamming open catches your attention. You then see him stumbling down the steps with a literal chair in hand. Richie nearly trips as he was making his way across the lawn and you involuntarily let out a snort.

Yet would he really kill you with a chair?

Perhaps.

To your slight relief, he gently placed it on the grass, sitting on it.

Not today, Satan!

You shoot him a confused look. "You said you could go on for hours, so I brought a chair." Richie watches your face light up, a very rare occurrence due to your usual unsunny disposition.

He feels accomplished in a way, happier in fact.

"I'm all ears." he continues, leaning back into the chair, folding his arms.

For heaven's sake, you wished he would stop folding his arms. It was distracting. Nevertheless, you glance at your house once more to see that the lights of the living room had turned off. Your gaze met his once again as you watch him adjust his glasses.

Maybe the night wasn't so bad after all.

#richie tozier x reader #richie rozier #bill hader #bill hader x reader

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tr4shmouth-tozi3r · 5 years

Text

‘you have no idea how much I’ve missed you’ - richie tozier x reader

requested: yes and you didn’t say whether you wanted an adult!richie or not so I decided a teen!richie reuniting with reader would be super cute, cause he’s just so adorable as a teen🥺

summary: Ever since that fateful summer that you and your friends had spent fighting a sinister demon disguised as a killer clown, you had always felt super uneasy about your hometown. The more time you could spend outside of that place, the more at peace your mind had become. You started spending every summer after that in California, visiting your grandparents. It helped, but god it devastated Richie to see you leave for 2 and a half long months out of the year. It was 2 and a half months he had to spend without you, missing you, wishing you were still there. He always welcomed you back dramatically, as if he hadn’t seen you in years and you loved how adorable your boyfriend was. You had no idea it was actually hurting him to be away from you. It’s been 3 summers since everything happened so it was your 3rd summer at your grandparents, but this summer when you come home, you realize just how much he really missed you while you were gone.

pairing: richie tozier x reader

warnings: fluff, swearing, a bit of angst I guess.

The excitement coursing through your body was something unexplainable. You dreaded coming back to this place at the end of the summer now, but the people you were anxiously waiting to see made it all worth it. You had made a little family outside of your family and you loved them with all your heart, but after the events that took place in the summer of 89’ it slowly took a toll on you. You were pushing 17 and your depression and anxiety had slowly deepened over the passed few years.

You loved your friends; your little family. You loved your real family, too, but Pennywise left a nasty scar and the trauma never quite cleared up. You had already had some issues with depression around the time that you encountered Pennywise, but after what he put you and your friends through, you had gotten worse. The anxiety came after and the rest is pretty self-explanatory.

Only one person out of everyone was the complete and true source of your happiness. Everyone in your life made you happy, but Richie made you happy and made you forget everything when you were with him. He took you away from your own scary thoughts and soothed you like something you hadn’t felt in years.

He was your nepenthe.

Nepenthe—(noun) An ancient greek word defined as a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.

He made you forget when you were wrapped up in his arms and he was doing his ridiculously corny British accent, spewing cheesy pick-up lines at you and also muttering some very sexual things in your ear, making you blush every time he did. He loved to tease you and get you bothered. You saw nothing but big, brown orbs magnified by the thick-rimmed spectacles on his face and a shit eating grin sprawled across his features. You felt like the piece of you that you lost was somewhere inside of Richie and whenever you were with him he was filling that empty part of you again. You loved him and he definitely loved you, too.

When you started to need your time away, he had protested profusely, telling you there was a better way to cope and to deal with everything, a way that wouldn’t mean leaving him for two and half months. You loved how much he wanted you to stay, but you knew you needed time away from Derry. He hated that you were right and eventually he gave up and accepted that you needed to do what you felt was best. He tried to support you as much as he could and he’d never admit it, but goddamn did it hurt to let you go for that long. He knew you would always come back, but it didn’t hurt any less. He could barely enjoy his summers anymore without you by his side. Now it was him who felt empty.

You smiled to yourself as the car came to a halt outside of your house. Your friends were all gathered outside on your lawn, holding a sloppily made sign that read ‘Welcome Home, y/n!’. You smiled wider than ever. Being away from the people you loved most for two and a half months did start to get to you. You missed those hot summer days at the quarry listening to the boys bicker about who would jump first while you and Bev laughed at them and their nervousness, pushing them out of the way and interlocking hands as you jumped together. As many times as you’d done it, Richie would always blurt out his usual string of profanities and yap on and on about how there was no way he was letting a couple of badass girls show him up. He always was the third to jump. There was only one summer that all 8 of you had spent together, but you missed it.

With your happy thoughts came the scary and unforgettable thoughts and they always lurked not far behind. You hated that.

“y/n!” Beverly screamed as she engulfed you into a huge hug, twirling around on the sidewalk as you clung to her.

“Bev, I’ve missed you!” She set you down and smiled at you. Your eyes shot up to the rest of your friends who were greeting you eagerly and you noticed Richie sitting up on your porch steps. He stood up as he saw you, a soft and unreadable expression on his face. You let your eyes settle on him as you told your friends you needed a minute to talk to him. They all nodded and let you go.

“Hey, stranger.” You looped your thumbs through the belt loops of your jeans and smiled down at him, but your face fell when he looked up at you, tears welling in his eyes.

“God, I must look like an idiot, fuck..” His hand shot up and underneath his glasses, pressing into the corners of his eyes and trying to let the built up tears pass unnoticed, but you had seen them and he knew. He sniffled and laughed bitter sweetly, “I’m sorry, usually this is how I say goodbye, you know, tears and all that sappy shit. I don’t know what it is,” His eyes danced across your face, “I just.. fuck, I’ve just missed you so much and you’re back and I’m so happy. I’m so happy I’m crying, what in the hell are you doing to me, woman?” He took his glasses off and tucked them over the collar of his shirt. You felt tears sting the corner of your eyes as well and his tears started to fall at the sight of you crying.

“Richie..” You smiled at him, your hand cupping his face and your thumb brushing his tears away, “God you make it so hard to leave and now you make it so hard to stay in a way. Are we gonna cry like this every time I come home? I think my heart might explode from the sweetness if we do.” You giggled and he laughed slightly, trying to stop the tears that were coming, but he couldn’t.

It just felt so unreal to him, every time you left he felt like you were gone for two years, twenty years, an eternity. He felt like he was seeing you for the first time in decades, like you had to travel to him from the other side of the world on foot and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see you again. But he knew he would and he hated how ridiculous he seemed for feeling how he did, but he couldn’t help it. You can never help it when you’re in love.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He spoke through his tears and he leaned into you, sobbing into your chest and looking up at you to kiss you in a frenzy, his hands running along your arms and your back and down to your waist. You were finally back home and finally back in his arms and holy shit did it feel good. He felt his heart soar as he came undone and savored you even though you’d just come home. It all came and went too fast, lately. Before he knew it, you’d be saying your goodbyes again and he dreaded the thought.

He wished so badly that he could keep you wrapped up in his arms forever and never let you go, but nothing was ever that easy.

You felt yourself melt into his touch and your lips moved against his just as quickly. You never knew Richie’s feelings about your summer trips were this intense. You didn’t realize that maybe you were his peace and when you would leave, he didn’t have that peace for a long two and half months out of the year now.

Your tears and his tears mingled together as your faces touched and slid passed you and his lips and the saltiness hit your tongue and you didn’t care. The kiss was sloppy and needy and he was telling you how much he’d missed you, but with his mouth. You felt like you were flying, like no one else was there but you and Richie. You understood and you didn’t care if he could be overdramatic. You finally understood that what you find in California at your grandparents, Richie finds in you.

“I love you, I missed your lips.” You breathed against his mouth after you both had pulled apart for air.

“I love you more and I missed all of you, sweetcheeks.” He let his lips ghost over yours for a moment before pressing them against yours again, but this time it was slow and loving and he wanted you to feel how much he loved you, “Just wait until tonight when I stay over. We aren’t sleeping.” He let his hot breath hit your cheek as he whispered in your ear and squeezed your hips in each of his hands.

You threw your head back and laughed, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks, “You’re lucky there’s still a few days left of summer, wouldn’t want you sending me back to school exhausted, now would we?” You teased back and he smirked at you.

“God must really exist, because there’s no way in hell you didn’t come straight from the heaven gates, I swear. I prayed for someone like you to come along and fuck, I never thought it would work, but look where we are? I got my angel.” He placed kisses along your jawline as he spoke half-jokingly to you.

“Richie Tozier, you are such a cornball.” You laughed loudly as he swooped you up in his arms and started running down your porch steps.

“Yes, but you love it!” He screamed proudly before he suddenly realized he hadn’t put his glasses back on and he was totally running across your lawn with you thrown over his shoulder and no sight.

You felt your butt hit the ground below you and you looked down to see Richie face first in the dirt and you and you friends all laughed in unison.

“Rich, careful, you’re supposed to throw her onto the bed, not the lawn.” Bev joked and Richie’s face went red. He was definitely embarrassed.

It was in this moment, you realized how much Richie Tozier really missed you for the two and half months you’d been gone again. He wrapped his arm around you as he buried his face into your leg and he stayed there sprawled out on the lawn for a second. And it was in this moment that you realized he didn’t just miss you, he needed you. You were his peace.

I don’t know what this was, I feel like I had a specific destination when I started this earlier but it ended up somewhere else and it was sssSUpERRRR SAPPY AND FLUFFY AND UGHHH

It was also a bit short sorry lol I hope you all enjoyed it(:

#finn wolfhard #richie tozier #finnie #personal requests #requests #character x reader #imagines #it imagine #richie tozier x reader #it chp 1 #it chapter one #it chapter one imagine #fluffy richie is so overwhelming i caNT #richie it #richie #richie x reader

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the-sarcastic-trashmouth · 4 years

Text

The silence of Nothing

Summary: “Stanley, you have some visitors.” His mother’s soothing voice called out into the dark bedroom. “It’s all your friends.” She explains, opening the door wider to allow light into the room. “Go ahead in… he’s a little… under the weather.” She explains as the losers look into the room before freezing.

Stan was a very precise person when it came to things… so seeing his room in such chaos was… concerning, to say the least. He liked order and that’s what made him the logical mind of their rag-tag bunch of misfits.

“Stan?” Bev was the first one to speak. “What’s going on?” She asked, wanting to run her fingers through his greasy curls, but decided against it.

Stan was staring at the wall in front of him with a blank expression. He wanted to cry… He felt like he should, but there was nothing. No tears or sobbing breathes of sorrow… just a giant hole in his chest that was growing bigger. His throat tightened, making it hard to breathe as his lungs expanded to the max before shakily falling back down.

“St-St-Stan?” Bill asked.

Stan flinched at the feeling of the bed dipping towards the bottom. He knew that it was Bill but his brain was acting like a terrified animal… All he wanted to do was crawl under the bed so they couldn’t see him anymore.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris

Warning: Contains Depressive Episodes which may be triggering to some readers.

Stan felt numb to everything around him.

From a very young age, Stanley Uris was a boy who never spoke often and didn’t interact much with anyone. It concerned his parents because they were scared something may have been wrong with him. It made school hard for both his parents and Stanley because Stan refused to make friends or try and hide so they couldn’t take him to school.

That all changed in second grade. A young black-haired boy with bandages everywhere stumbled up to Stan and asked if he wanted to play. At first, Stan didn’t want anything to do with the boy, however, he was very persistent and soon followed Stan everywhere. It was rather odd for Stan because he went from hating the young boy named Richie… to missing him greatly when Richie had to miss school.

Stan found himself attached to Richie despite always getting annoyed by Richie’s dumb shenanigans. Richie wasn’t just Stan’s first friend… he was the only person that could get an emotion out of Stan. The young blonde-curly-haired boy craved the feelings that Richie had given him when the other would do literally anything.

Soon the dynamic duo because a trio when William Denbrough weaseled his way into the boys’ space… Not that Stanley really minded, but there was a part of Stan that didn’t like Bill at first. He was scared that Bill was going to take Richie away, but still, Richie was always by Stan’s side. Bill would sit on Stan’s left while Richie was on his right whenever the trio was doing anything from doing school work to outside at recess.

Then came Edward Kaspbrak at the beginning of third grade. The tiny boy was nervous about everything and hated being touched by anyone. However, when he met Bill, Richie, and Stan… his attitude changed slightly. It’s not like he wasn’t still afraid of everything… it’s just… he liked having friends with the other boys.

Stan began to distance himself from the Losers club about three years after the Pennywise incident. Not only was he abandoned by his friends, but he almost was lunch for that dumb flute playing--Off-topic. So… yeah, Stan couldn’t bring himself to be around his friends right now because everyone was dealing with nightmares… He just didn’t want to talk about his.

Stan got into depressive episodes where he wouldn’t move for any reason. His mother merely contacted the school so she could get his homework and wait out the storm. Stanley wouldn’t speak to them anymore and after the entire shit-show of his Bar Mitzvah, his dad wasn’t too keen on speaking to his son either.

“Stanley, you have some visitors.” His mother’s soothing voice called out into the dark bedroom. “It’s all your friends.” She explains, opening the door wider to allow light into the room. “Go ahead in… he’s a little… under the weather.” She explains as the losers look into the room before freezing.

“Stan?” Bev was the first one to speak. “What’s going on?” She asked, wanting to run her fingers through his greasy curls, but decided against it.

“St-St-Stan?” Bill asked.

“I’m here!” Richie’s loud voice boomed. “Sorry, arguing with parents.” He panted before looking to the bed as he froze. “Shit… Stan?” He rushed up as Bill moved back.

“His mom said he’s been like this for almost a week,” Mike comments softly.

“What’s going on with him? Is he sick?” Eddie asked worriedly, glancing from Bev to Bill.

“Why didn’t you talk to me, Stanny? We promised each other to always talk when we got like this.” Richie whispered as Stan’s eyes fluttered before the dull eyes slowly flickered to Richie.

Stan’s mouth opened, but nothing came from his lips.

“Wait, you know what’s wrong with him?” Ben asked before everyone looked at Richie.

“I don’t… I never fully understood what was going on with Stan. But… But we both get these episodes.” Richie explains softly before crawling onto the bed as Stan watched him. “Alright Stan the man, I’m here now. Sorry, it took me so long to realize what was happening. I knew you were fucking distancing yourself on purpose.” He huffs softly, but there were tears in his eyes.

“How do we help him?” Bev asked softly when Stan moved sluggishly before wrapping his arms around Richie and burying his face into Richie’s stomach to take in the scent of… Richie.

What the other Losers don’t know is… Stan and Richie have been dating since they were fifteen so of course, Richie’s scent would be the thing to calm him down.

“Just being here will help. We can’t physically do anything for him. So just… be here. Your presences let him know that we’re here for him.” Richie smiles softly down at Stan who hasn’t moved.

“Yuh-Yuh-You.. Have you fuh-fuh-faced this before with him?” Bill asked quietly.

“Yeah, but he’s taken care of me too. It’s just how we work. Stan calls me a pompous ass every so often and I annoy him with all my amazing jokes! But we both would drop anything when either one gets like this.” He explains. “Also this is the only time Stan likes physical contact from me so.” He shrugs with a gentle grin.

“Rich.” Stan’s voice was hoarse considering it’s been days since he spoke. He winced at the sharp stabbing pain as he looked up to the other boy.

“You need something? Water? Something to eat?” Richie immediately went into the mode he always did whenever Stan got like this.

Stan shook his head before slumping in relief at the feeling of hot, salted tears trickling down his flushed cheeks. Suddenly a sob tears from his throat as the other losers share heartbroken looks before turning back to see Stan bury his face deeper into Richie’s stomach.

“Ssh, it’s okay. You’re so fucking good, Stan. This world is a better place since you came into it… I’m a better person since you came into my life.” He explains while combing his hands through Stan’s hair. “And when you are feeling better we’re gonna go to the Quarry and I’ll let you push me in.” He grins, making the others snort gently.

Stan’s body was shaking violently as heartbreaking sobs escaped his cracked lips. He just wanted to be with Richie right now because this is the safest he’s felt in days and he didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Can someone get me a wet washcloth?” Richie asked softly, glancing up from Stan as Bev nods before taking Ben with her. “Is there anything I can do?” Eddie asked quietly to Richie.

“Maybe ask for a glass of water?” Richie offers as Bill and Mike immediately offered to go get it. “Come here, Eds.” He motioned him over when Eddie shifted nervously.

“Would--Is he gonna be okay with that?” Eddie frowns softly.

“When he’s like this… Stan likes to feel safe. So this is how I make him feel safe. Maybe talk to him? You don’t have to touch him… But just be here.” Richie comments as Eddie finally sits on the edge of the bed.

“Hey Stan, I hope you feel better soon. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry you feel this way. I hope you know that all of us are here for you.” Eddie assured, feeling his own tears form. “I know you don’t like talking about it… and I just… I wish you would. I’m so scared for you and it scares me when you stop coming around. We love you so much, Stan… Please remember that.” He begged when Stan turned to face Eddie with a broken expression.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He croaked out when Eddie shook his head.

“No, no… Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for feeling this way. Please… All I ask is that you talk to us. All of us. You’re our best friend, Stan. We aren’t the Losers club without you.” Eddie whispered as Richie grins gently.

“He’s right you know,” Richie whispered before Stan glanced back to him.

Bev and the others soon returned with the requested items as Richie stood up off the bed, causing Eddie to move so the raven-haired boy could get Stan up. Stan was slowly as he sat up, wincing at the sharp pains in his muscles before Richie helped remove his shirt.

“Let’s get you into some new clothes, huh? You think you can wash yourself up?” Richie asked, but the clouded look in Stan’s eyes told him no. “Okay, that’s okay. Here.” He thanked Bev for the small bucket and cloth before he started to scrub gently at Stan’s face.

“Is there anything we can help with?” Bev asked, leaning against the wall at the foot of Stan’s bed.

“Some new clothes, please?” Richie smiled gently when Stan’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of the cloth running down his face. “How are you feeling?” He asked quietly. He knew that these episodes always made Stan sensitive to loud noises.

“Tired.” Stan supplies as Richie nods.

“That’s okay. We can get you to sleep. First, can you drink something for me?” He took the glass from Mike before offering it out to Stan who slowly took sips from the water. “That’s it. Great, thank you.” He smiles before placing a kiss on Stan’s forehead.

“Here.” Ben offered out some new clothing as Richie glanced at the others.

“Might wanna go wait outside. He needs to completely strip down.” He explains when they all nod before going out of the room.

Eddie lingered for a moment longer, squeezing Stan’s hand before he too joined the others outside the room. It was hard to see Stan this way, but honestly, Richie knew exactly what he was doing… It was strange to see Richie so gentle and quiet in these few moments.

“There you go. All done.” Richie smiles at the sight of a redressed Stan before he threw the dirty clothing into a hamper.

“Richie… Thank you. I’m sorry you--” He was cut off by Richie’s hand on his mouth.

“None of that bullshit, Stan the man. We just had a little bump in the road. Nothing that a little tender love can’t fix.” He flashed a grin before he started to clean up the rest of Stan’s room.

“One of the… One of the scars busted open the other day. And there was so… so much blood.” Stan whispered when Richie looked up to him in shock.

“Jesus, Stan… I’m… I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you come to me?” Richie asked before Stan covered his face.

“You had finally told us that your parents were neglecting you… I… I didn’t want to burden you.” He whispered.

“Dude shut the fuck up! Oh… I’ve never been on the other side of that. Anyway--” He cuts himself off, waving his hands frantically. “You would never burden me, Stan. Never, do you hear me? I don’t give a fuck if I’m on my death bed and you just wanna tell me you stubbed your toe. Fucking tell me! Okay, I’m… I’m your best friend. Lean on me.” He bent down so he could look up at Stan.

“Okay, I… Thank you.” He whispered before glancing down at his hands. He began to pinch at the skin between his thumb and index finger. “I had a panic attack… And… And it was awful. I couldn’t function. I fell into a hole that I couldn’t get out of. It was the worst. I wanted to scream but it was like someone had my throat.” He explains before glancing up to Richie who was watching him.

“Well, looks like they don’t have a hold of your voice anymore.” He whispered before placing his hands on top of Stan’s. “You are a tough fucking cookie. Do you hear me, Staniel? The fucking toughest.” He grins warmly.

“Stay with me.” Stan tugs at him.

“You want me to let the others in first?” He asked before getting cut off by Stan’s lips against his own as he froze. “Uh… That’s a no.” He whispered before kissing him again as Stan chuckled gently.

“Yeah, you probably should. They’re worried about me.” Stan comments quietly.

“They’re worried because they care.” Richie resorts before getting up and opening the door. “Alright losers, get in here and get ready for a nap!” He glances back at Stan who rolled his eyes before laying down again.

The others trailed their way in as Richie flopped down onto Stan’s bed with Stan immediately curled up against him. Bev quirks an eyebrow before noticing that look that the two shared as she grins. Soon all the losers grabbed blankets and pillows from the closet while Richie, Stan, and Eddie shared his bed.

It was a tight squeeze with Stan smooshed in the middle… but he kind of enjoyed that.

Stan’s eyes slowly fluttered open before he noticed Richie already asleep with Stan’s head on his chest. He could feel Eddie behind him with their backs together and for the first time in a long time… he felt at peace with himself… He felt… something.

#Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris #Richie & Stanley Uris #Stozier #Soft boyfriends #Soft Richie #Depressive Episode #Richie takes care of Stanley #Stanley loves Richie #Richie loves Stanley #Established Relationship #The Losers #All the losers are supportive #Supportive Richie #Stanley tries to distance himself from the losers #but they aint having that bs #The losers love Stanley #Stanley normally feels nothing #but with Richie he does

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good-doctor-imagine · 4 years

Text

Favorite Color (Stanley Uris)

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Reader (Soulmate!au)

Summary: You wanted to move away from Derry because you were convinced that your soulmate was somewhere completely different. Obviously, you were wrong.

Word Count: 1200+

Warning: depression is mentioned once but not in detail

A/N: I refer to your soulmate a lot as “they” (before you find out it’s Stan) because I don’t know everyone’s sexuality and I want to keep it open. Also, all of my fanfictions have gender-neutral readers unless specified otherwise. // Also I realized I published this a day early... oops! I hope you don't mind me reposting it.

Your only plan was to graduate college and get the hell out of Derry. You felt as though the small town suffocated you and was only filled with selfish people that never cared for anyone but themselves. You learned at a young age that taking care of yourself and not burdening others was one of the key things in life, but you couldn’t help but hope that one day, you’d meet them.

Your soulmate was the one person that you’d be selfish for. You’d scream, you’d shout, you’d do anything for your soulmate, but you were convinced that whoever they were, they weren’t in Derry. I mean, it was a small town and even though you were a pretty unsociable kid, you believed that you’d met and seen just about everyone, but no one has been able to take away the curse that has been haunting you ever since you opened your eyes.

Not everyone has a soulmate, you knew that. Some of your friends growing up would point at dresses and say how pretty they were and just go on about the colors. When you were 5, one of your friends asked you what your favorite color was. It’s a simple question and you were pretty surprised she didn’t ask sooner looking back at it. When you responded with “What colors?”, she scrunched up her nose and asked, “Are you blind?”

Your parents didn’t explain it to you until you went home that day crying, claiming that your best friend was afraid of you because you were blind. After that day, you learned how to match colors to different shades of gray.

Your best friend who claimed you were blind moved only a year after the incident and you were determined to keep quiet about your soulmate because you didn’t want to scare off any more people. When you started growing, you were thankful you kept it quiet. You never heard about anyone in Derry having a soulmate and you definitely weren’t going to be the weird kid that did.

Despite how much you hated the color gray, you couldn’t hate your soulmate because you knew they were going through it too. You prayed that they grew up in a town that was more accustomed to having soulmates and, most of all, you prayed that you would eventually find them.

You were lucky, and you learned that from an early age. Your mom and dad didn’t have soulmates, they fell in love in college and moved to Derry where they settled down and had you. Unfortunately, their relationship eventually deteriorated and your dad left to “live a better life with his new family”. At 6, you were kind of confused about what he meant, all you knew was that he wasn’t coming back. Now, though, you wonder how long he’d been cheating on your mother.

At first, your mom didn’t react well to the sudden change and started to fall into a depression, but no matter what, she didn’t blame it on you. Instead, she stressed how blessed you were to have someone out there that was made just for you and she asked you to promise her that if you ever did find your soulmate, that you would cherish them.

Although you were only 6 when you made that promise, you never forgot it.

You went through middle school telling yourself that you were fortunate to have a soulmate, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit weird when someone would ask your favorite color. Your response was always gray, which some kids would argue isn’t a color but you didn’t care. You despised gray because it kept you from living a normal life, but you loved it because it meant that they were still out there.

You heard that if you ever lost your soulmate, all you would see was red. Out of everything, that was the color you loathed. You knew what it looked like.

A year ago, you saw it, but only for a few seconds. You were watching a movie with your mom, enjoying a bowl of buttered popcorn while snuggled under a soft blanket. You yawned and the next thing you knew, a different color seemed to overpower your vision. Heart starting to pound, you screamed and jumped in shock, knocking the popcorn everywhere. Then, you started to sob.

Your poor mother rushed over to you and tried to get you to tell her what was wrong, but all you could get out was a choked sob. When you opened your eyes again, blurry from the tears that clouded your vision, everything gray again. Your mom said it might have been a figment of your imagination, but you refuse to believe that your own mind could make up such a foul color.

You were walking home from the library when you spotted a group of kids fighting with each other in front of you. You recognized them from your school, but only really knew the name of one of them: Richie Tozier, also known as “Trashmouth”. It was hard to miss him at school considering how much trouble he got in with his foul language and suggestive jokes. He was laughing and fighting with another kid with a fanny pack, who you just realized didn’t have his cast anymore. And then there was another one you couldn’t really see, but you could hear him scoff at them, claiming that they should cut it out.

You tried your best just to walk around them, not wanting to get involved with anything, but that was all ruined when the trash mouth decided to push the curly-haired brunette quite harshly as soon as you were behind him. Not expecting the sudden impact, you fell straight to the floor, your backpack doing nothing to cushion the fall. You grimaced a bit, slightly in pain, but it was mainly just embarrassment. When you opened your eyes again, ready to stand back up, you completely froze. It seemed the person who was standing in front of you was in the same state of shock, hand frozen in front of him like he was going to help you up but couldn’t say anything.

Your eyes shot up to his, and you had to force yourself not to get lost in his eyes, but you were convinced that you could stare at them for the rest of your life. It was like an instant connection, it was like you knew him for the longest time even though you didn’t even know his name.

“Holy shit. Stan, are they your-”

“Shut up, Richie” Your soulmate scolded, finally breaking the silence between you two. After sending a glare to his friend, he offered you a hand and helped you stand up, apologizing for hitting you. You didn’t say it, but you said to yourself that he could run into you any time of the day.

“I’m Stanley,” Your soulmate introduced himself, not taking his eyes off of yours.

“Damn Stan, if you keep looking at them like that, they’ll think you’re a pervert.”

You ignored his comment, instead, smiling at Stanley and saying, “I’m (Y/N).”

After a few moments of silence, your soulmate broke eye contact and cleared his throat. “D-Do you want to go to the Quarry with us?” When you didn’t answer right away, he added in, “Only if you want to.”

You laughed and nodded your head, telling him that you would love to go.

The next time someone asked you what your favorite color was, you said brown.

Masterlist | Send me a message!

#stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris oneshot #it #it 2017 #it chapter one #it oneshot #oneshot #it chapter one oneshot #it 2017 oneshot #soulmate au

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loser-writings · 4 years

Text

Reflection || Richie Tozier x Reader

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Character Deaths, Depression

Inspiration: “Start your story with 20 words and end it with one.” || Alternate universes

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One last trip to Derry. Richie goes to the kissing bridge and smiles. “I promised you. I’d never forget you.”

He sighed, remaining single yet buying a ring to wear as a necklace. He didn’t want to move on.

He watched as Ben and Beverleys’ family grew, and he couldn’t help but hurt. Would you want kids?

Richie Tozier fell into a depression, forcing a smile and performing to keep his promise to work.

Your voice and touch still linger. What if you survived? Would everything be better with you?

His room was dark as he drinks some wine. You should be here. With him.

Richie sighs softly, holding your hoodie. “I promised you. We were leaving Derry together.”

He showers with his eyes shut, hoping you will knock on his door.

He goes to his room knowing that tomorrow will be even quieter.

Eddie, Stanley, and You. The three Richie loved the most? Gone.

The losers had won, and at what cost? Three friends.

He cries while his glasses dip in the water.

His hand covers his mouth to stifle cries.

He fights back to hold you again.

His hands reach out for you.

His cries break their hearts.

“I can’t leave you.”

Being torn away.

Broken apart.

Reality.

Dreams

Together again

Hand in hand

“I love you too”

Your laughter gives him butterflies

His hands wrap around you securely

He holds you tight in the water

Your lips crashed into his, stifling the giggles

You leave the quarry after cleaning his broken glasses

The losers had won, and at what cost? Nothing much

Stanley, Mike, Beverley, Bill, Richie, Eddie, Ben, You? Safe and Together

You go to your room knowing that tomorrow will be brighter now

You shower with a grin until you hear a knock at your door

Richie smiles back, bags in hand. “I promised you. We are leaving Derry together.”

He smiles bright as he picks you up, deciding that he was spending the night

Wine and kisses were shared, feelings and dreams were discussed, a future worth living was imagined

Richie Tozier grew more ambitious, writing his own material just to see you laugh at HIS jokes.

He always debated on settling down, eventually asking if you would ever want to have a family together

Eventually married, Richies’ happiness grew as he continued to work. His kids would groan hearing daddy’s voice in movies.

One last trip to Derry. Richie pulls you to the kissing bridge just to show you faded initials he re-carves.

#richie tozier #richie toizer x reader #adult Richie #bill hader #richie x reader #angst

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faithandpositivity · 5 years

Text

“We don’t have to” Part 1 || REDDIE [Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak]

Pairings: Stan x female!Reader, Richie x Eddie

Author’s note: Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I present you my first ever m x m fanfic, so please please don’t be too harsh on me. I saw It Chapter 2 on Saturday and my heart is aching so bad for what happened to Stan and Eddie (it’s not like I’ve read the book before and stuff but still). Also English isn’t my first language and since I haven’t really been writing anything at all for the last 1-2 years because of the lack of motivation caused by depression - blah, what I was trying to say: don’t hate me, if this turns out to be shitty. Love you!

Plot: Some years after the Losers Club split, they find themselves reunited for a beautiful occasion: the wedding day of Stan x Reader [also this will be a spin-off oneshot or fanfiction I’m currently working on, this one focuses more on Reddie]. The night before the big day, all of you are having a good time, drinking and eventually playing Truth or Dare like you did in the good old days. Everything seems to be fine, until you dare Richie to do something that might have questionable consequences...

_______________________________________________

“I don’t understand you people. Bacardi is fucking disgusting.”

“You wanna know what’s disgusting?”

“Richie, if you even dare to only take my mother’s name in your mouth, I will fucking end-”

Right before you could finish your sentence, you felt someone softly grabbing your shoulder. To your relief, it was Stan. You felt how you melted under the gentle touch of his hand. Almost ten years together and he still made you gasp with only a touch.

“Trust me, Richie. This girl here does not banter when it comes to her Mama.”

Everyone shared a laugh until you heard the bottles cracking on the table. Ben immediately started filling everyone’s cups up, with no protest allowed. You leaned back and placed your hand on Stan’s hand. You could hear him smile.

“Okay. Now give me the empty one, please”, Beverly ordered and Ben handed it over to her, so quickly that he almost tripped over his feet. She smiled at him and asked him to take his place down next to her. He smiled back at her. These people were some serious goofs. But they were your goofs.

“This might be fun.” Beverly chuckled before spinning the bottle for the first round. Everyone heard Eddie groaning and everyone ignored it, except for Eddie who made a filthy comment about “jizzing” in “one’s pants”.

“Might be seems very common. I hate this game”, Mike moaned and gave Beverly a death glare, right before the bottle stopped to point right at him. Everyone laughed hysterically except for Mike. He smiled shyly and much less confident.

“Okay, Mikey-boy. Truth or dare?”

Mike rolled his eyes back and then lowered his view to the least. “Truth, I guess.”

“Oh-oh, can I, can I?”, Bill asked, suddenly fully attentive. Usually, Bill was the calmer one of the group, but after the right amount of alcohol, the Losers found, he turned into a witty sport.

Beverly gave Mike a knowing smile and then nodded at Bill.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Oh my- what! How old are you people? Like seriously!”

Mike complained a bit, but after some time, he smiled and unwillingly answered the question. “I was 18, okay?”

Richie snorted and suddenly widened his eyes. For him it was common sense to comment everyone and everything but all of a sudden he felt like he might have made a mistake. It was not Eddie he was balling, it was Mike. And he wasn’t so good, at least not as good with...

“And how old were you son of a mother, if I may ask you, Richard?” Mike pointed on Richie’s chest with his index finger.

“Me? I was...It’s not my turn yet”, Richie grinned and made a face at Mike. Suddenly he felt a heat in his cheeks. It normally didn’t bother him when people were looking at him, au contraire, actually, he enjoyed it. He was a show host, dammit! But right now, in that second...A pair of eyes was smothering him.

“Take it easy, Mikey”, Eddie interrupted. “He mustn’t admit the only relationship he’s ever had was with his right hand.” Eddie gave him a warm wink.

“Alright, years left, years to come and I still wanna puke”, you heard your fiancé blurt out. Everyone was laughing and the atmosphere seemed as calm as it could be. You kept playing for a few rounds and suddenly you had to ask Richie.

“Okay, Richie from the ditchie”, you smiled, “Tell me: Truth or dare?”

You stared at your best high school friend with deliberate provocation in your eyes. The two of you had played this game over and over and every time Richie had made you do some extra foolish shit. Today was the day to let justice win.

“Dare, baby. All over.”

“Okay.”

For a second you asked yourself if you could do it, if you could really ask your best friend to do the thing he was the most afraid of but would or at least should also make his life a whole lot more interesting. Actually, he should be thankful if you did, you thought.

Richie had a secret and you had little but still had knowledge about it. You were the only one to know and you had promised to keep it a secret. It was an asshole kind of move, but so was it that one time when Richie forced you to sneak into Henry Bowers house. That was the time he almost murdered you and you had to talk yourself out of it by telling him you were secretly into him and had sneaked in to write him a note. That was the worst summer of your life, you decided and you shivered.

“I dare you to kiss Eddie on the lips.”

For a good second, everyone was quiet and you could hear someone gasping. It was Ben.

You looked Richie right in the eyes and saw frustration but also surprise there. It was almost as if he was gonna ask you “Why?” if there just wouldn’t have been all those people.

“Oh, come on, Rich. Everyone here has kissed everyone here...I mean, almost. Or. Okay. Maybe it was just Bill and Beverly, then Ben and Beverly [now a couple], then me and Beverly and even Bill and Mike [for scientific reasons - the project failed and Bill was now happily married]. Don’t make a fuss.”

“She’s right”, Mike said and gave Bill a curious look. Bill laughed and pretended to look at his phone.

“When did you and Beverly kiss?”, Stan suddenly asked and you looked at him in shock.

“Oh, shit”, you said and sounded a little too tipsy. “Okay, it was before us...And it was only one kiss.”

“And what a kiss”, Beverly added with a grin. Ben laughed awkwardly and grabbed Beverly harder by her waist. She gave him a short kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, so what now?” Eddie asked, almost impatiently.

Your face went from Eddie to Richie and back to Eddie.

“This is bullshit. We don’t...I mean, we don’t have to do this. This is a bullshit game and no one really cares if...”

“Are you gonna do it or what?” Eddie lifted his left eye brow and watched how Richie frowned in confusion.

Eddie groaned like he had before and all of a sudden took Richie’s face in his hands. Richie felt how his heart slipped down his stomach. He gasped for air, right before he felt how Eddie pressed his lips against his own. For a short moment he couldn’t even close his eyes and just stared in disorientation, then he felt how slowly his eyes closed.

It was...the most beautiful kiss he had ever experienced in his whole life. Eddies lips tasted like coffee and Bacardi and even a bit like his inhaler. He felt his heart beat through his chest as Eddie softly strengthened his grip on Richie’s face.

After a few seconds he felt how Eddie slowly pulled his head back. When he opened his eyes again, he looked into a pair of warm, acquainted eyes.

“Could be worse, right?” Eddie quipped, suddenly sounding like a mixture of serious and sleepy. His voice was higher than it was before and he didn’t take his eyes off of Richie as fast.

“Sure”, Richie spoke under his breath.

That was the second Beverly put a satisfied look on her face and continued to spin the bottle. Everyone was doing normal things again but for Richie the time seemed to move in slow motion.

Suddenly you felt bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe...

“Honey, I’ll just go to the kitchen and grab some fresh glasses”, you said to Stan and vanished like a flash.

After entering the kitchen and before you heard the door slam, you heard Richie calling “I’ll help you!” from behind you. Before you could get away, he stood already in front of you.

“Why?”, he asked you.

He looked at you with slight disappointment in his eyes. The rest seemed just...tipsy.

“I’m sorry, Richie. I don’t know why I did that. It was wrong. I shouldn’t have. I really don’t...I’m so sorry”, you said, trying to calm yourself rather than him, because he seemed surprisingly calm.

“I just-”

“Do you guys need any help?”, you suddenly heard somebody asking. It was Eddie. You didn’t hear when he entered but you were pretty glad that he had come in.

It was true. It was just a stupid kiss and what one would make out of that. It was not your fault that Richie seemed to maybe see more in that game of Truth or dare than there actually was. People had to kiss other people all the time for that exact reason. You had kissed Beverly, Mike had kissed Bill, all for that reason. Why should Richie be spared?

“Actually, we do. I’ll take these glassed out, maybe you could help Richie with the snacks. Thank you, Eds”, you smiled at him, as he gently grazed your arm.

“Anything for the bride.”

With those words, you vanished. Back to the others. Other than for Richie, Eddie seemed less concerned about the kiss. Actually, he seemed...content.

“I can take care of the snacks. You can go back and...”

“Can we talk about it?”

Richie felt how the blood in his veins froze. “About what?”

“The kiss.”

Oh no. Oh no. He would totally mention how he had noticed what Richie felt and that he could never have the same feelings...not for a man. Not for Richie. He felt quiet nauseous.

“I hope it won’t do any harm on our friendship, that’s all”, Richie lied and told the truth at the same time. “I mean, it’d be the fucking worst. I’ll never play truth or dare again for the sake of-”

“Richie...”

“Also, what are we? Teenagers maybe? We’re fucking adults! Can’t we act like it? [Yikes.] People of our age don’t play games at parties anymore, no, they rather do-”

“Richie.”

Before he could keep talking, he felt how Eddie tried and pressed him against the breakfast table. Richie was awkwardly bent over aback while Eddie was coming nearer. He couldn’t take his eyes of him for a second. Even though Richie was tripping backwards, Eddie wouldn’t stop and went along until they had reached the wall.

“Richie, I want you to kiss me.”

Eddie wasn’t really this confident when he was sober. Sure, he was not really shy and especially not around Richie. But right in that second he exuded some kind of dominance that made Richie weak by his knees. He stared at him and tried to say something just to close his mouth again.

“But...why would you...”

“No talking”, Eddie ordered, almost craving. He placed his hands gently on Richie’s chest and let his fingers run up and down through the material of his shirt. Richie felt how it slowly became harder to breathe. “Just kiss me”, he said. His eyes followed the structure down from his head to his feet just to get to his eyes again. He bit his lip and for Richie it was inexplicable how one person alone could be so damn hot.

His lips could only form two words, before he let go of all.

“Oh fuck.”

After that he placed his hands on Eddie’s hip and pulled him closer, so close, that nothing could ever fit between the two of them. After shortly looking into his eyes, he almost lost himself in them.

He felt the relief of eventually placing his lips on Eddie’s. It was the best feeling ever. Under his breath he could hear how Eddie softly moaned into his mouth. His tongue circled shyly along Eddie’s lower lip, then always faster. Eddie placed his hands in Richie’s dark hair and gently pulled a bit.

It was romantic and slow but it was also expectant and so damn past due.

After quiet some time, Richie felt how Eddie pulled his head back. He was breathing heavily and looking at him with a look in his eyes that Richie had never before seen on Eddie.

“What is it?”, he whispered.

“I-I wanted to ask you...ask if maybe you wanna continue but in my bedroom.”

What had begun and sounded like an unfunny joke in the beginning, was now Richie’s life long dream which became true.

“We don’t have to...I mean...you don’t have to think you’d have to do anything that you don’t really...”

“I want it”, Eddie burst out. He coughed slightly. “I mean...I want it. I do”, he said in a soft voice.

“Isn’t it...quiet early to say I do?”, Richie asked and gave his friend a big, confident grin.

“I should have said it years ago”, Eddie said and smiled.

They stood there looking at each other for a few seconds, when Eddie grabbed his hand.

“Okay. Sneak me in, Eddie spaghetti.”

“There is no spaghetti for you if you call me that again”, Eddie laughed and Richie laughed, too, knowing he was joking. Oh shit, he wanted him.

And that was the only thing he had wanted for years.

Actually...forever.

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just-jordie-things · 6 years

Text

Snow Days - Richie Tozier

word count: 1571 warnings: minor cursing requested! : requesting for a Finn (or his character) x Reader fic where he's a sweetass boyfriend who says romantic puns and flirts with you daily which always ends up in cuddles and kisses and giggles :') AND: Would you write a Richie x reader fic where you’re all cuddly, kissy and him throwing out cheesy puns all day 😍 btw, loveee your writings! a/n: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 as always! love you chickie

- You knew it was going to be a snow day before you even got out of bed. Just from hearing the winds outside whipping around, making it feel like the whole house was going to topple over, and looking out the window, seeing that the snow nearly covered your entire window. There was no way that Derry Central Schools would still be open.

So when your mom opened your door just enough to peek her head in and see you still bundled up in bed, you weren’t surprised when she said “No school today sweetie, no need to get up” And then promptly left, not even hearing your hum of delight at the idea of staying in bed for just a few hours more. You and your mother didn’t often speak to each other more than a few simple statements. But that’s okay, it was routine, and routine you could be used to.

Bed felt more and more inviting every minute you stayed under the covers, your face seemed to sink further and further into your feathery pillow. You wondered just how you found the energy, the will, to get up and go to school at this time every other day of the week. Your room was dark, making it easy to keep you tired, and the sky was still dark outside, not one ray of sunshine snuck into your room and demanded your eyes stay open. This was so comfortable. The only thing that could make this better would be-

“Morning sugar cake” A sluggish voice called, entering your room and shutting the door quietly behind himself.

“Rich” You smiled to yourself as you heard him walk into your room. But you didn’t sit up to see him. Just opened your eyes as he laid across from you. His own blanket wrapped around himself like a cocoon. “Did you walk here?”

“Mhm” He hummed sleepily, his own eyes shut, and you saw his glasses were held in his slightly pink hand. You frowned, knowing it was from the cold.

“It’s practically storming” You addressed, but he showed no signs of caring.

“Well I don’t have frostbite, do I?”

“How would I know?” You responded, eyes falling shut against your own will. “Your house isn’t that far but… still” Richie peeked an eye open, smiling as his gaze fell on you.

Your hair was messy, splayed all over your pillow and face, and likely knotted, but it looked soft. Your eyes were struggling to stay open, slowly blinking like you couldn’t bare not to look at him (which was true). You had a hand tucked under your pillow, and the other holding tightly to the edge of your blankets, keeping yourself tucked completely underneath them.

“You’re not the prettiest of sleepers my dear” He commented, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck off, I don’t know why I hang out with you” You replied, but in your tired voice, it was an empty insult. Richie just chuckled, shaking his head and sneaking his hand under your covers to wrap his arm around you. Freezing! Your body screamed as his palm came in contact with the skin exposed from your ridden up shirt. “Jesus! How long were you out there!?” You hissed, wiggling closer and taking his hand between both of yours, trying to warm it up.

“The usual ten minutes it takes to get from my house to yours” He shrugged. A crease settled between your eyebrows, but you didn’t scold him for being his usual, idiotic, self. You were too grateful he was even here. Instead you focused on rubbing your hands over his, hoping he’d warm up. “You know, if you want it to be warmer you can always-”

“Beep beep Richie” You mumbled, and he obeyed the long-standing rule and shut. “I can’t do the comments this early, love” Your eyes fell shut again, and Richie smiled to himself at the nickname you’d lazily let slip out.

You’d been together for almost four months now. But you’d been friends for your entire lives. Only recently, after the whole ‘demonic clown terrorizing your town and your friends nearly to death’ had the both of you gotten over your shared fear of rejection. After the summer of 89’, it just didn’t seem as scary as it had before. But that didn’t mean that you told anyone, not even the Losers. Not even your families (if they gave a shit anyways, which they didn’t). It was your secret, that you kept hidden safely.

Since before your relationship, Richie had always been touchy so physically, there was nothing to conceal. He always had an arm around you or was holding your hand or hugging you, so you continued on that way. But it was the things you both said that you had to be careful about. Most nicknames, and random sweet things, were forbidden in the presence of anyone else. And it wasn’t too big of a deal anyways. As long as you had both time with friends, and time with Richie, it was alright.

Your fingers slipped into his other hand, holding his glasses, and pulled them out to place them on the table by your bed. “I love snow days” You sighed, reaching your hands out to hold onto his sweatshirt.

“Yeah me too princess” He breathed out, and looked down at you. “Hey” He murmured, and you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You smiled softly at him, reaching up and pressing a short kiss to his lips. When you pulled back and saw his smile, you leaned right back up and captured his lips in yours again, this time longer, which Richie was always appreciative of.

“You know I love you, right?” You whispered out, lips still barely against his. Richie smiled, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist and pulling you closer against him.

“Of course I do, you made it pitifully obvious” He said playfully, and you laughed quietly.

“Not my fault you never learned how to take a hint” You replied, to which he only smiled. Richie rolled on his back, still holding onto you, now laying on his chest covered in three blankets. “Are you gonna stay all day?” You whispered, your hair falling down around and on his face, making him laugh and tuck the strands back behind your ears.

“Course I am, what else would I do?” He asked, shaking his head just slightly like he didn’t understand why you’d even asked the question.

But you just grinned in response, and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, then another, and another. And suddenly, you were lazily and sleepily making out. It was quiet, and dark, and you’ve forgotten how you felt this morning, because this was far better than the false euphoria you were in earlier.

You smiled against his mouth, your fists releasing his shirt and your hands setting on his shoulders. Richie’s own hand tangled up in your hair, cradling the back of your head.

“I love you too, y/n” He told you seriously, staring at you through half lidded eyes, the smile on his lips small, but nervous. He’d never said that before, not to anyone. Not to his parents, not to other friends, or other non-existing significant others. And though mentally, he’d been telling you since the first grade, he’d only just announced it aloud.

“I know that, you made it pitifully obvious” You replied, mocking his voice. He let out a small laugh, and you smiled brightly at him, one of your hands laying across his jaw as your eyes flickered over his features. Richie’s freckles were your favorite, they reminded you of the constellations of stars. You leaned down close to him again, lips slanting over his. This kiss was different, it had a different feeling, a new emotion behind it. Greater than love, more like… more like a passion.

Richie’s eyes shut tighter, trying to remember every detail about this moment. His arms completely encircled your waist. The softest of moans left your lips as your kiss deepened, your head tilted to the side for a better angle.

You could do this all day.

Small “i love you’s” and “never leave me’s” were whispered between kisses. And all Richie could think was, I could love this girl for the rest of my damned life. Your thoughts weren’t much further off from his own.

Eventually the two of you had just fallen asleep, clinging tightly to each other. Richie was snoring, just a little bit. But the sound was somewhat comforting. You liked falling asleep knowing you had him there with you, and him to wake up to. And while with him you never slept so soundly, as cheesy and ridiculous as it sounded.

It was calm, and peaceful. Even in your slumber you both seemed to realize this.

And maybe someday you’ll come out and tell everyone about your hidden relationship, but in these nice moments, you wondered why you’d ever even bother to leave Richie’s arms.

this is just pure fluff and wow i miss the days where i didn’t need to break everyone’s hearts with angst.

(this won’t last btw.)

taglist: @awtozier @fightmebub @depressed-trashcann @beepbeeprichtozier

xoxo! ~ jordie

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