#৲ ° . !! RICHIE TOZIER ; IT’S ME HI I’M THE PROBLEM IT’S ME.

[champagneprblms]

richie & any :: @firewvlk​

richie usually went with the flow when it came to change. he was good at rolling with the punches, but this whole ending up in lord of the rings and now being who knew where was giving him serious whiplash. “do you know where i can get a cheeseburger here?” he questioned the nearest person. “or do i have to use that portal to find a good burger?” he hated those portals. he’d used one to move from one place to another in the last place they’d been, but didn’t use them again after. he didn’t trust them. thought maybe he’d end up being approached by pennywise or something. he didn’t know if the creature was gone for sure, but he didn’t want to take any chances. especially when it came to facing the unknown.

location: sakaar

[champagneprblms]

richie rolled his eyes at the flower girl comment. of course she'd say something like that. thinking on his feet, he decided to shoot back a witty comment. "sure, and you'll be the head usher at my wedding." wow, his comments were weak now. he needed to step up his game. "seriously though, i highly doubt there'll ever be a wedding. he does not feel that way for me," he sighed as he shook his head. "he probably has a crush on somebody way cooler than me, and that's pretty hard to come by." he was somehow able to be self-deprecating and self-loving at the same time. "you can't tell him how i feel about him, by the way. like, if that wasn't obvious to you."

champagneprblms​:

“he’s definitely not, bev.” richie sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “sorry to be so… y’know, not confident. i just think… who could ever like a guy like me? i mean, after all those years of talking about his mom… all the jokes i made on his behalf…” that was just his way of flirting, but he was sure that eddie wasn’t too happy with it. “i highly doubt he’d ever like me. although, back then, i’m pretty sure that he had a crush on bill. i mean, really, who didn’t?” he couldn’t deny that he had somewhat a crush on bill at one time. nothing had ever come of it though since he’d almost immediately moved on to liking eddie. eddie was the first person richie would call when he was bored. the second being stan or bill. “anyway, just let me know when the wedding is. i’m expecting to be the maid of honor and best man. or the person that stands up there and does all of the talking,” he chuckled, clearly joking. he did expect to be part of the future wedding though.

Bev felt bad for Richie. She knew the feeling of thinking that people wouldn’t like her. It was tough having that mindset, but it was also hard to shake. “Trust me, Rich, he definitely has something for you. It was obvious as kids.” Bev hadn’t noticed that everybody seemed to have had crushes on Bill, but maybe that was because she’d been trying to not get killed by a murderous clown. “The wedding? Definitely not. I really don’t think anything will come of my silly crush.” A loud snort escaped as he spoke about the wedding that definitely wouldn’t happen. “You’ll be in the wedding. We’re gonna need a flower girl,” Bev teased, nudging her friend. “But I get to be part of you and Eddie’s wedding, too.” She was hopeful that her friends would at least get together. The way Richie and Eddie looked at each other was very telling in her opinion. 

[antisociallilbrat]

A little snippy snippy snippet from this huge ass big bang fic I'm working on 🙂 coming out in late August *finger guns*

-

Richie Tozier lies there with his glasses cracked, pumpkin seeds in his unruly hair, and his eyes open, forever unseeing. 

“Come on Butch let’s get out of here!” One of the goons snaps him back into his senses and the five of them book it off the property. The realtor trying to sell the house for the current family will discover Richie’s body in the morning, despite it laying in the front yard for all to see.

For now, Richie stands above his corpse, no longer feeling the chill of a Maine October. None of it makes sense to him right now but it will. It always does eventually for newcomers. 

He’ll stand there well into the night, staring at his empty shell for hours until a voice rings out behind him. “Surreal isn’t it? To see your body from the outside?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees an older man walk up beside him. Tall, neat dark curly hair, and small framed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. A strange dark bruise rings his neck. 

Richie chuckles mirthlessly, “I’d almost think I’m tripping on shrooms or something if it wasn’t for the fact I’ve been standing here for so fucking long and I still don’t feel cold. There’s a breeze but I- I can’t feel the cold it carries.” A tear falls down his cheek and he hates it. Hates it because he doesn’t understand it. Hates the injustice of it all. Furiously he wipes at his face. “Can’t feel the cold but I can still fucking cry apparently.”

A comforting hand grips his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. It won’t always be this bad; you’ve just got some things to learn.”

Richie finally looks up at the man. He has honey-colored eyes and they are weathered but they are kind. “Well looks like I've got an open schedule now with time to kill so that's not a problem.” 

The man cracks a smile and nods towards the house, “Let’s head inside. Mike is better at explaining all this than me,” he hesitates for a moment, “I’m Stanley Uris by the way.” 

[sunshinereddie]

So I've had a very interesting conversation with my cousin ( who is very much a smol baby to fandoms, I'm so proud that I managed to achieve making IT as the first fandom she officially joined lmao ) regarding our dearest trashmouth.

So we were in the middle of watching Bowers scare Richie out of the arcade in Chapter ii when this conversation happened ::

Cousin :: Dude, imagine if Richie came from old money, this guy would've been toast

Me :: ...Huh?

Cousin :: Like, imagine this, okay?

Me :: *nods eagerly*

Cousin :: Imagine Henry tells his dad about the little /f-slur/ in town ( Me : don't say that, Cousin : sorry sorry ) and knowing how shitty this dude's dad is, he'll probably try and get Richie in trouble for a chance to "punish" him for sinning or something hypocritical like that... Then, maybe he tried to get arrested, spurted out some false accusations, and since the people of Derry could care less about the children of the town, they listen to the asshole and took Richie to the station to detain him... Richie's parents found out and not even a minute later, Richie's out with clean records and three police officers got fired, including henry's dad. Can you imagine how wild that would be?

I proceeded to spend the rest of the movie just looking at her in awe because what the fuck? What if, indeed?

Wentworth could've come from a very long line of various medical fields and that's why the Toziers are old money or Maggie could be one from old money as well since from what I understand, old money tends to only marry to other old money families. Maybe the only reason they live in Derry and not in either of their estates is to give Richie a chance to live a "normal" life and not the lavish one they've had. Am I tripping? Probably, but can you imagine also imagine the Losers' reaction to it?

Beverly :: Alright, not that I want Richie to be in jail but how the fuck did you get out so fast? I don't think you can get out of jail that fast even if you're a little well-off

Stan :: Perks of being born into old-money, I guess

Eddie :: H U H ?

BSSNBSLAHSKA THIS…… this is an IDEA I COULD GET BEHIND!!!!!

like i can definitely imagine maggie and went trying to be humble and not wanting to raise richie with the idea that just because his parents have money doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants to get away with whatever he wants. and maybe both went and maggie’s families are actually shit, like their families are kind of toxic and stuff and they didn’t want to raise their son around them, hence why they moved out to derry!!!!

and i feel like even though for the most part, maggie and went stay out of richie’s troubles (they want him to learn how to solve problems on his own and they don’t want him to rely constantly on his parents), but when someone does something to really hurt him, like what bowers did…… you best believe they’re gonna do something about it!!!!

AAAAHHH!!!! i am enjoying this idea immensely……. rotating this idea in my mind….. except now i’m also thinking about what if they don’t come from regular old money, what if they come from some sort of like mafia background……. au brewing in my mind…..

[dicktozier]

this is me trying

Richie Tozier/Dan Torrance - It & Doctor Sleep Crossover

Summary: While Richie Tozier is trying to recover from everything he experienced in Derry, he meets Dan Torrance and discovers that he has a power called ‘shining’. The two of them must learn to navigate life on the other side of the traumas that they’ve experienced. The bond that they form is truly some ‘cosmic-level shit’.

From the fic:

He made eye contact with the man across the aisle. Richie remembered that his name was Dan and he had been sober for over ten years. Richie hoped that he wasn’t still coming to this joint after ten fucking years. And to someone who was ten years sober, this shit had to be a joke.

Dan had sad eyes, but they sparkled with a slight bit of mischief when he met Richie’s gaze, like maybe he could tell what Richie was thinking. Everyone has their demons . A voice that Richie almost didn’t recognize said back to him in his brain. 

Richie furrowed his brows. That was weird .

“The thing is, everyone else has no problem drinking to celebrate. Have a few glasses of wine and get loosened up.” Debbie went on.

Can you hear me? The voice said. Dan was still looking at him and his gaze was so intense that Richie had to look away. He took a deep breath, trying to focus back on the meeting. The story about the woman’s other family birthdays and holidays that had gone wrong because of her drinking.

“For me, it was three bottles … four bottles.”

Richie looked down at where his hands were clasped uneasily between his knees.

After the meeting, Richie bolted toward the door to smoke. Rolling fog was visible even in the dark of the evening. It was damp out, like it had drizzled while they were inside. The street light reflected on the dark pavement. He stood on the right side of the building, away from the rest of the smokers who gathered on the left under the big tree. Shoulders slumped as Richie focused on the bitter taste of the cigarette.

I’m fucking losing it. A drink sounds so fucking good right now. Richie thought to himself.

“Hi.”

Richie looked up. He tried not to be annoyed that Dan was approaching him and offering him a cup of stale shitty coffee in a styrofoam cup.

“Hey.” Richie said, politely taking the cup, but not making eye contact with him.

“Dan Torrance.”

“Richie Tozier.” He gave a quiet laugh. “Feels kinda stupid introducing myself since I do that every so often in front of everyone.”

“Don’t feel stupid.” Dan said.

Richie’s gaze flickered up to meet Dan’s. “You want a smoke?” Richie asked.

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.” Dan said.

“Ten years sober and no nicotine? Jesus.” Richie said, taking a long draw from his cigarette.

Dan smiled, but shrugged. “I can’t help but notice that you sit alone during the meetings. If you ever need anyone to talk to �� ”

“I’m not really looking for a sponsor.” Richie interrupted him. You’re not supposed to be attracted to your sponsor . He thought.

Dan’s brow furrowed, and he looked down at the space on the sidewalk between where they were standing. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled softly. “Still.”

Richie knew that he hadn’t said that second part out loud, but the way that Dan was blushing made him wonder if he had by accident. “Sorry, I uh, wasn’t trying to be rude.” Richie said carefully.

Dan cleared his throat. “No, not at all. I just meant that everyone can use a little extra help sometimes. Or a friend.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, alright?” Richie offered a smile.

Dan smiled back and nodded. “See you around, Richie.”

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

[plus-size-reader]

Memories

Eddie Kaspbrak x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2479 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader patching up Eddie when Bowers stabs him

—————————————————————————————————

Eddie wanted to leave, and in all honesty, you couldn’t blame him.

This place was so much worse than you could have imagined when you got that phone call, so much worse that you could have ever hoped to remember, even as your memories came flooding back.

Which was why you were packing.

If you had known, or could have remembered what you were signing up for when you and Eddie agreed to schlub your asses back to this town, you never would have come.

You shouldn’t have come.

So, all that was left to do was pack your stuff, and get back home without anything else going horribly wrong. It was a long shot, you were perfectly aware of that, but you didn’t care.

All you could think about right now was getting out of here, everything else would work itself out later.

“Oh, and then the leper, he threw up all over me” Eddie grumbled, his voice carrying even over the running water of the sink and the distance that separated you without any problems.

He got that from his mother.

“Hey, it’s Mike Hanlon, why don’t you come back to Maine?” he continued, hardly taking a breath as he complained about everything he’d had to go through since you two separated this morning.

It hadn’t been a cakewalk for you either, of course, but you certainly weren’t envious of what he’d had to do at the hands of the clown.

It didn’t sound good.

Still, all you could muster out was an “uh, huh” in reply, something he’d grown more than accustomed to in all your years of marriage as you focused more on the task at hand than the ramblings leaking from his lips.

Most of the time you were busy, or just trying to let him rant when it happened, but today, neither of you seemed to mind too much about it.

You were too preoccupied with the current circumstances, and at this point, you weren’t even sure Eddie was listening to himself as he let off steam.

He was just trying to make sense of it all.

“Hey Eds, I’ll be right back. I think Richie stole my neck pillow” you called, having checked the closet four times only to come up empty each and every time. The only logical explanation was that he had it.

Of course he did.

Richie had been threatening to steal it since you reunited and he caught sight of the way you and Eddie traveled. It was like you’d found a way to pack up the entirety of Bath and Body Works into your Escalade.

Naturally, he wanted a piece of the action.

A similar hum of allowance came from the bathroom, likely alongside a wave of his hand as he finished washing the grime and ick from his skin, as if it would eat through his flesh if he didn’t.

If Richie did have it, all Eddie could do was pity him when you found out. If he thought you busted his balls as a kid, you’d only gotten more protective of your things.

It was bound to be a repeat of that time you threatened to put his hand in a blender after he stole your walkman freshman year.

…and your husband knew far better than to get in the middle of that.

“I’m going to kick your ass, Tozier” you hollered, all but sprinting down the stairs toward where he was staying, that same fire stirring in the pit of your stomach that you knew so well when it came to him.

Richie had always done things like this, and now, at this point, it was just immature and frankly, uncalled for.

Not that you were worried about your neck pillow for too long, because before you even had a chance to properly berate the fourteen year old masquerading as a grown man in front of you, Eddie yelled.

Really yelled.

It wasn’t like the surprised curse he sometimes let out when he hand touched a piece of food in the bottom of the kitchen sink, or when something startled him like jumpscares in horror movies.

It was real, and raw, immediately forcing an icy chill racing up your spine.

“Eddie? Are you alright?” you yelled, finding yourself almost unable to move as you imagined all the awful things that could have drawn a noise like that out of your husband.

Knowing this town, it could have been anything, and you didn’t like that. You didn’t like having to think of whatever horrors may have been awaiting you at the top of those stairs.

In any case, you could only really be sure of one thing anymore.

You had to get out of here.

“Eddie?” you called again, partially hoping that he was just fooling around, even though you knew that was the farthest thing from reality that he would have been doing.

It wasn’t in him, but still, as much as you knew it had to be bad up there, you couldn’t make your feet move from the floor.

You were terrified, in the same way you’d been all those years ago, when everything felt like it was out to get you.  When the darkness felt like more of a taunt, a promise of the nightmares to come.

Beverly was the first to reach him at the top of the stairs, a scream leaving her lips as she surveyed the scene in front of her.

It wasn’t until you heard that sound shocking you from your place, that you moved finally, following your heart even though your every instinct was urging you to run in the other direction.

“What happened?” What is it?” you asked, forcing yourself up the stairs alongside the rest of your friends, not stopping until Eddie came into your field of view.

It was so much worse than you thought.

Eddie was collapsed against the wall, covered in blood, with what looked to be a literal hole in the side of his face.

At first, you almost couldn’t believe that it was real, but then you remembered the unfortunate truth of your circumstances.

You weren’t at home, where your biggest worries were getting groceries once a week, making it on time to your nine-to-five, and Eddie’s insistence he was coming down with something even though you both knew he wasn’t.

This was a whole different thing entirely, and right now, the love of your life was in real danger.

“Bowers is in my room” he allowed, his words little more than a post on the bulletin. Really, you were just finding it hard to believe that he was being so calm, but chalked it up to the shock.

Once he realized what happened to him, you’d never hear the end of it. He would need a million different antibiotics, and he’d probably make you check it for infection four times a day, but you didn’t mind that.

All you cared about now was making sure that this trip didn’t kill him.

“Is it bad?”

It wasn’t until Eddie spoke again that you realized he was talking to you, his hand gently tapping at your knee a few times to get your attention. The action left behind the light ghost of his blood on your skin but you didn’t care.

You were just trying to figure out what you needed to do from here.

Naturally, your first instinct was to take him to the hospital as quickly as possible but that was hardly an option given everything.

You were just going to figure something out here.

“I went downstairs for like four minutes” you breathed, your words little more than a suggestion as you tried to find any humor in this. Of all the awful things you could have expected from this trip, you hadn't anticipated anything like this.

You should have seen it coming.

You knew that.

With everything that had happened since you two had come back to this town, it should have been the first thing on your mind but it just wasn’t.

It couldn’t have been.

You hadn’t thought about Henry Bowers, or the hell he and his goons put you all through, in years and in all honesty, you probably would have kept it that way, pretending the Bowers Gang didn’t exist, if you had your way.

…but you didn’t.

Like everything else, evidently Derry had stolen your ability to get away from anything bad, deranged rednecks and improbable injuries included.

That couldn’t have been more obvious than it was right now.

“Yeah, four minutes too long” your husband shrugged, and you could tell the action caused him pain, even if he was doing a great job of keeping it hidden.

Of course it hurt.

You’d never personally been stabbed in the face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to imagine it was a pleasant experience.

“Can you guys get him somewhere more comfortable? We have a big first aid kit in the car” you asked, earning an immediate nod from Ben, who you knew would have done anything to be of help.

Any of the surrounding losers would have.

That was why you had one another all those years ago.

As quickly as you could, you rushed out to the car to fetch the kit in question, all but tripping over your own feet as you did.

This whole thing was so much easier when you were teenagers.

Now, the stakes were a hell of a lot higher than Eddie’s mom trying to put him in a bubble because she was convinced he had contracted the plague at the movie theater.

By the time you got back inside, the rest of the losers had your lover set up in the bedroom propped up against the headboard, with one of the bathroom towels held to his face.

He’d definitely looked better, but all things considered, he was still holding up really well.

“When you said big first aid kit, I was actually expecting bigger” Richie teased, admiring the huge case you brought with you when you entered, astonishment written all over his face.

It actually sounded like it may collapse the mattress when you set it down.

It was big, the biggest first aid kit he’d ever seen but knowing Eddie, Richie always thought he traveled with a mini hospital up his sleeve.

…and it looked like he was right.

“Yeah, well, this is our traveling first aid kit” you countered, shooting him a teasing glare as you did your best to focus on the task in front of you, your lover steadily bleeding onto the bedding below him.

You and Eddie shared a single look before you moved on from the whole thing. Richie’s jokes weren’t funny growing up and they hadn’t evolved much since then.

He meant well, and everyone knew it, that was the only reason you still kept him around.

“You guys go help Mike, we’ll be down as soon as I stop the bleeding” you suggested, hearing the distant crash of something in the distance, surely the calling card of something else awful on the horizon.

Something awful that was going to have to wait until you could put Eddie’s face back together.

Bev muttered some kind of reassurance as she passed, squeezing your shoulder and closing the door behind her, after the surrounding men left to check out what was going on downstairs.

It was just never ending here.

The two of you sat in silence for a while as you worked on the task at hand, and Eddie busied himself studying the look on your face as you focused.

You had always been so beautiful, and it blew his mind every day that somehow he’d managed to end up with you after everything.

“Doing okay?” you hummed, watching him out of the corner of your eye, catching sight of whatever he had going on without much context at all. Given what was going on, you were worried you were hurting him.

Though, you should have known it wasn’t that.

“Oh yeah, just thinking,” he shrugged, wincing ever so slightly as you replaced the towel with some clean gauze, before giving him that pointed look, wordlessly asking him what exactly it was he was thinking about.

If you had to guess, you would have assumed it had something to do with the open wound in his face but without words, there was no telling what had a hold of Eddie’s attention.

Not at a time like this.

“This just brings back memories” he explained, recalling all the times you’d been in positions similar to this.

You had patched Eddie up like this a million times before growing up, when he’d have a run in with Bowers and his goons or that one time when he’d fallen and scraped his knee and didn’t want his mom to find out.

It had saved him a lot of hassle, having you around.

Sometimes he joked that was why he kept you in the first place. He needed someone who knew how to take care of him better than he did.

…and he wasn’t wrong.

By this point, there was almost nothing you hadn’t done for Eddie, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

Richie and the others might have liked to make jokes, but they didn’t know how hard it really was for Eddie to live under what his mother had done to him, and how little control he had over his concerns.

It really wasn’t his fault.

“This brings back memories, huh?” you hummed, leaning a bit closer to his face to admire the work you’d done with a small smile on your face. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but as long as you kept an eye on it and didn’t get killed in the next two days, it would heal.

It might not even scar, if you took care of it right.

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. Of course he could find a way to see the good in something like this off all things.

He wasn’t wrong though.

Nursing Eddie back to health was practically a primary skill at this point in your life, and at times like this, you were glad for it. There was no telling what you would have done in this situation if you didn’t have it.

Your husband nodded, bringing his hand up to gently pat at the bandage attached to his face, before deciding that he would live.

He never doubted you for a second, but this was his first time being stabbed after all.

“Well, Eds, as much as I love taking care of you, let's not make a habit out of this” you teased, standing fully but not before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, your way of kissing it better.

Just like all those years before.

[heytherejulietx]

richie and comforting you when you’re crying

1k sleepover.

richie tozier - comforting.

588 words

a/n - i’m sorry this is shit, i haven’t written for richie in a while and tried to get back into the groove of it. also sorry the sleepover stuff is taking a while, i’m slowly but surely getting through them. anyways enjoy.

@mikewheelerc @bucky-j-barnes join my tag list

he found her sat on the edge of the cliff at the quarry.

he didn’t know how long she had been there for, but the sun was going down and it seemed like she had been there for a while. her shoulders were slumped, her head hung low. usually she was energetic - even challenging his energy, which was practically impossible. he’d never seen her so low before. he didn’t think it was even possible for her to be so down.

richie shuffled closer towards her until he was stood at her side, looking down at her. y/n glanced up at him before she sighed and looked back out at the water without saying anything. he could tell by her red eyes that she had been crying.

“are you okay?” he forced himself to ask after a moment. if there was anything that he wasn’t good at - and he was practically good at everything, he was richie tozier for christ’s sake - it was comforting someone. that was ben’s department, or beverly’s. not his.

“no i’m not fucking okay,” y/n snapped with a sniffle, glaring up at him. “i just found out there’s this huge fucking killer clown out to kill us, richie. i’m pretty freaked out, actually.”

richie blinked, not sure what to say. he wasn’t really okay either, he was freaked out too. which made it even harder to try and comfort her.

he fumbled over his words for a moment as he tried to figure out what to say, before he just sighed and sat down on the floor beside her. she didn’t look at him again, so he stared at her for a moment before he slowly eased his arm around her. he expected her to smack him away or actually break his arm, so he was surprised when she just sighed and leaned into him.

fuck. where did he go from there? literally everyone but her knew that he had a certain fondness for her - even though he denied it the whole group teased him about it relentlessly. and now that he finally got the chance to hold her, he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

his hand froze at her back for a few seconds as his brain went into overload, before he settled with gently rubbing her arm with his palm. again she didn’t complain, so he settled into the continuous motion as he glanced back out at the water again.

“it’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure her, blinking a few times as the sunlight shone across the water into his eyes. “we’ll be okay. absolutely nothing’s going to be able to hurt me, i’m like practically invincible. you’ll just have to stick with me.”

he braced himself for a nudge to his ribs and for her to tell him that he was being stupid, but instead he heard her giggle quietly against him and he smiled. not that he’d admit it to anybody, but he liked hearing her laugh. which is why it was so great that most of the time he was the one who caused it. he always got smug about that.

“i guess so,” she mused with a smile, before he felt her head drop to rest against his shoulder. instead of stiffening up that time he relaxed slightly, and held her a little closer to himself. “thank you, rich.”

“no problem.” richie mumbled, looking back up towards the water as he couldn’t keep back the fond smile and blush that rose to his features.

[izzyspussy]

okay so i love reddie as like. a concept but i can't do horror movies so i can't watch it, and i've never read the novel. with that in mind: do you have any cute reddie fics i could read without knowing anything beyond the very basics of the plot of it?

I am glad to do this! Disclaimer though, I uuhhhh. "Cute" is not usually in my list of Things I Am Looking For when choosing a fic, so... proceed with caution I suppose. Anyway.

*Pennywise voice* C'mon, Anon, come take your fic...

Canon Compliant (To Degrees) But Not Dependent on Context

I killed a clown. AMA! T, outsider POV, post-canon (Eddie lives)

This could be read as AU, or it could be read as the characters just keeping the real events on the DL. So honestly, however much you may or may not know about canon it can be applied or not as you see fit. I read it (for the first time) before seeing Chapter 2 myself.

I (39M) got stabbed twice today and now I want a divorce. Help?

little pieces of the nothing E, post-canon (everyone lives)

Canon doesn't really come up except in passing.

After Derry, Richie and Eddie start hooking up in secret. Richie knows it's never going to be anything serious—and he's fine with that, really—but sometimes Eddie makes it too easy to pretend otherwise.

Every Crease and Slope M, post-canon (everyone lives)

This one could be described as "cute" I think! Again, canon doesn't really come up.

“Get your foot out of my armpit,” Eddie says, shoving Richie away. “What the hell are we watching?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Richie says. For a moment, his stomach twists nervously. But the truth is, he knows he has nothing to be worried about, not anymore. “Who here likes to objectify men?”

Shotgun T, post-canon (Eddie lives)

I don't remember but I don't actually think canon comes up at all in this one. And it's cute! Richie fake dates his PR manager to make Eddie jealous because they are both stupid lmfao.

The TRASHMOUTH got off a good one last night … in a spontaneous wedding ceremony with RUMORED GIRLFRIEND Anna Gonzales!!! Spotted hand in hand outside the famous Graceland Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas last night, our favorite raunchy stand up staple was being anything but TRASHY with his new bride.

Change Partners T, post-canon (Eddie lives)

For this one you mostly just have to know that there was an evil clown and it was scary, and made Richie even more scared of homophobia than he might have been otherwise. His phone gets stolen, hacked, and leaked.

"Rich," Eddie says heavily. Meaningfully, and Richie holds his breath, both afraid and hopeful that Eddie is about to say something really sappy, like I always knew and it didn't matter to me, or you know I support you no matter what. Eddie takes a deep breath before he speaks, and Richie closes his eyes, braced for it. "I didn't look at your dick pics."

we were the pretenders E, post-canon (Eddie lives)

It's porn! Only relevant canon: Richie fell from several feet in the air, likely resulting in minor injury.

He watches Richie twist again, the shift of muscle beneath his t-shirt, and then, possessed by some impulse he doesn’t want to examine too closely, says, “I could give you a massage, if you want.”

when everything feels like the movies E, post-canon (everyone lives)

Canon is relevant in this one, but not directly, plenty of context is provided, and the plot of the fic is separate from the plot of canon (it's just character development and romance, babey!).

If he were anyone else, this would be the moment for him to ask what the hell Eddie is doing: in California, generally, and showing up at Richie’s door with a stack of luggage and no explanation, specifically. It’s an interrogation that Eddie has been dreading mostly because he doesn’t actually have any good answers.

Don't Break Character M, post-canon (everyone lives)

I have read this fic three times! I love it! There is one moment that is basically an easter egg for canon info, but you won't miss anything if you don't get it.

It takes one day for a fan to notice. WAS ANYONE GONNA TELL ME RICH TOZIER IS A HE/THEY OR DID I HAVE TO READ THAT IN HIS TWITTER BIO MYSELF??

Eddie Kaspbrak, Office Uncle Extraordinaire T, outsider POV, post-canon (Eddie lives)

I also read this one for the first time before seeing Chapter 2. It has easter eggs for canon(s) as well, but the POV character knows less than you do so those are just fun extras.

Eddie's coworker finally convinces him to bring his elusive spouse to an office party. It goes about as well as you might expect, which is to say spectacularly.

Alternate Universe

Paparazzo, Please M

Cute, cute, cute! But with a suitable amount of angst to make it readable to me lmfao.

Eddie is Richie's first and favorite paparazzo.

hello 911, would you like to hear my dick joke? M

This fic has everything. Cuteness, jokes, making out, grievous injury, Stanley Uris...

Eddie is a 911 operator and Richie takes getting minorly stabbed as an opportunity to get flirty. Much to everyone's chagrin, it works.

HONEY, LET'S GET MARRIED! T

Who doesn't love an ensemble cast and a fake marriage?

Richie offers to marry Bill so he can get financial aid for grad school, Eddie loses his marbles, and Stan makes it his problem.

cherry red E

When the characters think they're in a porno, but then the author makes them fall in love lol RIP.

As it stood, Eddie knew exactly what sort of person he was. He was a shitty, neurotic, repressed as all hell pretentious asshat, and he made every single decision every single day of his life based off of that knowledge. Sure, deciding to get screwed was a weird - but perhaps inevitable - lapse, but he thought he’d chosen the person to screw him quite well.

Just Friends T

When everyone in your life knows you're in love, including the children.

Richie brings Eddie home for a good-old-fashioned family shindig. Everyone thinks they're dating. And it gets worse.

Hope this satisfies your curiosity, Anon! I would say I hope you don't get dragged into the gutter with the rest of us, but I would be lying. Enjoy!

♥ Jack

[champagneprblms]

@rosewaterdrunk “ what the hell is wrong with you? ” from beau

"i ask myself that every single day," richie chuckled as he shook his head. "we can start with the most obvious-- undiagnosed adhd. i haven't eaten all day. i'm madly in love with my best friend... yeah, that covers all the bases." did he have to admit that last one? definitely not, but he did. saying it out loud made it feel more real. he was finally coming to terms with everything. back then, he'd sort of known, even carved their initials into the kissing bridge, but he hadn't been able to say it out loud before. he didn't think eddie would ever like him back, but oh well.

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + accidental fake dating | part two |

Usually, Eddie hated sleeping in. He liked to get in a morning run before heading off to work. But something about being in L.A with his best friend, rather than New York with his ex-wife, and the fact he was currently on leave from work thanks to a killer clown claw, he figured he was owed an extra hour or two. He stretched and yawned, opening his eyes to find a post-it note stuck to his forehead. Rolling his eyes, Eddie removed the message from his head, reading it fondly.

hey, bud. gone to get breakfast. relax, take it easy. I’ll be back soon. rx

He smiled affectionately and carefully climbed out of bed, wincing from the effort. He and Richie had been living together ever since they’d Derry, once Eddie had resolved to divorce his wife and get on with his life. Richie had suggested they live together through his recovery and Eddie had been so relieved that he wasn’t going to be on his own, he agreed. Things were great. Richie was a better roommate than he’d expected. He helped Eddie with his physical therapy, make sure he took his (genuine) medication and generally took care of him. Eddie felt like he was getting his life back and it was all thanks to the best friend he was hopelessly in love with. But that was a whole other problem he wasn’t ready to deal with.

Eddie was showered and fully dressed when his phone rang. He smiled already, thinking of Richie. He was more than a little surprised to see it was Maggie Tozier calling. They’d only met once since they’d returned from Derry and Eddie hadn’t really been in a fit state for visitors back then. Still, he answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Tozier.”

Of course, Maggie laughed softly, “Eddie, dear, we’re practically family. Call me Maggie.”

“Sorry. Old habits,” he eased himself into Richie’s comfortable La-Z-Boy - which was more his at the moment since it was the only thing he could handle right now. He tried not to sound pained as he asked, “how’s Went?”

“Oh, his hip’s playing up, poor thing,” Maggie said casually, “he’s been working on that damn car again. He’s only got himself to blame. But enough about us, how are you? Is Richie looking after you?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, Richie’s been amazing,” he smiled, absent mindedly stroking his t-shirt, underneath which was his healing wound, “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Maggie scoffed and Eddie could almost hear her eyes rolling, “that man adores you, Eddie. I thought he was going to burst when he told us you were moving in together, he was so happy,” Eddie paused, a slight frown on his face but he didn't say anything. Maggie didn’t seem to notice as she giggled, “now that you’re together, I guess I can tell you Richie always had a thing for you when you were kids. I can;t tell you the number of times...”

Maggie’s voice grew faint as Eddie’s mind wandered, deep in thought. It was clear she assumed that he and Richie were dating and had been for a little while. And Richie hadn’t corrected her. He was vaguely aware that Maggie had finished talking; Eddie swallowed, his throat dry.

“Huh?”

“All I’m saying is I’m just glad you two finally sorted things out. You’re perfect for each other. Anyone can see that,“ Maggie sounded so happy that her beloved son had finally found happiness, it broke Eddie’s heart that he wasn’t Richie’s actual real-life boyfriend. He wanted to be the one to make him that happy. But he wasn’t and he wasn’t about to burst Maggie’s bubble, either, so he kept his mouth shut. That was until she said, “so is Saturday okay?”

“Uh...for what?”

Maggie chuckled, “well, we figured we’d come and visit you two. Save you the journey, dear. They’ll be plenty of family gatherings at our place when you’re strong enough.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, Eddie found himself speaking before thinking, “thanks, Mom.”

"Oh, Eddie, darling don’t make me cry, I’ve just done my make up,” Maggie, too, sounded emotional but she was better at hiding it than Eddie, “we’ll see you at the weekend. Take care. Give Richie my best, tell him I’ll call him later.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

He hung up, staring at his phone. He barely had time to take in the large amount of information he’d just received as Richie barged in through the door, carrying four shopping bags in one hand and two takeaway coffees in the other.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called playfully, winking when he caught sight of Eddie reclining in his chair. Eddie rolled his eyes and reached for the lever so he could stand. Richie waved him off, “you stay put, Eds. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“Why, thank you, dear,” he emphasised the final word, expecting Richie to take the hint. Instead, the other man just bowed, blowing him a kiss as he began to unload bags of takeaway breakfast. Eddie shook his head fondly, “I spoke with Maggie just now.”

“Yeah? Lemme guess, Dad’s hip, something about that bitch Paula from the knitting circle and some supportive but misunderstood stuff about my new stand up?” Eddie chuckled as Richie put on his best Maggie Voice (which just sounded like The Old Lady), “’Richard, what’s a Netflix and where can I watch it?’“

Eddie took his coffee and portion of french toast and fresh fruit from Richie, suddenly realising how hungry he was, “actually, she mainly talked about us,” he watched carefully as Richie slowly finished dishing up his own, less healthy, breakfast. Eddie tucked into his own, avoiding looking directly at Richie, “she thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Richie didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t want his mother meddling in his love life, especially with the best friend he was stupidly in love with. He stopped stuffing his face long enough to say, “she’s been on about it for ages. I didn’t think she’d still be on that shit.”

"You didn’t correct her,” Eddie pointed out nonchalantly, watching Richie curiously. He lifted his head, blinking repeatedly at Eddie.

"You didn’t correct her.”

They continued staring at each other for the longest time, neither one daring to break the tension. It was out there now. Neither had corrected Maggie’s misunderstanding and now she was visiting under the assumption they were a couple. Eddie finally broke the awkward silence.

“I don’t want to lie to her.”

Richie almost choked on his coffee, “what, you want to be boyfriends?”

Rather than laugh at him, like Richie had expected, Eddie just shrugged, chasing a stray blueberry on his plate, “why not? It’s just for the weekend. After that, we can tell Maggie we decided we were better as friends or something. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Okay, if you’re sure you can resist all this,” Richie gestured at himself, grinning lecherously. Eddie laughed, easing himself to stand so he could put his plate in the dishwasher. He returned to Richie and, leaning forward as much as he was capable, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, whispering into his ear.

“I’ve had thirty years practice.”

It took a while for Richie’s brain to catch up with what had just happened. When he opened his eyes, Eddie had gone, probably off to his bedroom to get changed for swim. Richie shook his head, leaping up and following after his friend, “yo, Eds, what the fuck does that mean?”

[soulwillower]

taboos and the absurd iii • richie tozier

(professor richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: hi! i just finished reading taboos and the absurd, SUCH A GOOD SERIES. This is just some idea i had and im totally okay if u don’t want to do it, but would you write maybe a final part of the series when the reader finds out richie fucked more students (more than she though) and she gets upset and stops talking to richie (ridiculous jealousy) but he really was falling for her so he talks to her and well things get heated, and KDKDKD ok sorry if im too specific, hope u see this❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰 + hey omg i love the prof. richie series sm 🥵 if you plan on making a pt. 3 might i suggest reader giving richie head while hes giving a lecture and reader gets fucked on the table 😳😳 its hoe hours frfr + so many other requests to continue the series :)

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), bad morals, abuse of power, dont fuck your professor, filthy stuff, professor richie, deepthroating, dirty talk, use of the word slut, cockwarming, unprotected sex, mentions of exhibition, a bit of degradation and a lot of praise, unedited as usual lol

[losers + reader are 20+ in this]

4.4k words

part 3 of taboos and the absurd series. sorry it’s been so long :) i wanted to surprise u a bit with a lil surprise for the holidays. i love u all!! <3

[ i  ii ]

 ♡

you hadn't been to class in almost a week and a half.

it was really bad, you know - and the ditching has started to affect your grade, but you don't even care as much as you really should. because you're.... extremely jealous.

yeah.

you'd first gotten suspicious the lecture after you stayed behind and ended up with professor tozier's dick in your hands. a girl was sitting on his desk after class, when you'd walked in to turn in a late paper, and richie had been twirling her hair. they were laughing together, her bare legs. it made you burn up, and so you tossed the paper down at the drop bin at the back of the classroom loud enough that he noticed you’d come in.

you were so mad you didnt stay to see anymore. and you didnt go to class for more than a week after.

it could have been just an innocent gesture, or maybe just some woman richie was dating - either way, you were beyond jealous. it filled you with rage to imagine richie fucking anyone else, let alone a student. you were hurt, too - because you've really started to like spending time with your professor.

but that backfired of course, because you’re in your apartment staring at an email from him.

i will be at my office on campus after hours this friday, until roughly 9:30. if you're available, i encourage you to stop by.

we have a lot to discuss regarding your grade and future in my class.

thanks,

professor richard tozier

you blink at the screen, your heart racing. your fingers shake slightly as you reach up to rub your temples - oh god, he wants to talk. he's going to turn you down, say it was a mistake, and fail you.

and in the few days until friday, your rage and fear meld together to make a jealous, ugly monster as you stalk up the empty corridors to his office, ready to speak.

it's late, probably around 8 when you knock on his door, but he's still there as promised, answering with a faint come in!

you walk in slowly, heart pounding in anxiety as you meet eyes with him for the first time in almost 14 days. your heart thumps hard still as he nods at you, "you can shut the door and take a seat, ms. y/l/n."

you swallow as you click the door shut and move to the chair, sitting down awkwardly and biting your lip. "hi, professor." you say, afraid your jealousy is going to spill from you if you say anything else.

"you haven't been in class."

you nod, "you noticed."

he sighs through his nose and leans forward on his desk. you clench your thighs - no getting turned on, y/n. not now. "of course i did. i'm your professor, ms. y/l/n."

"right, sir, i almost forgot. you just get so comfortable with all your students now, sometimes it's hard to remember." you bite, and his eyebrows raise. "some more than others." he adds, shooting you a look that you ignore, instead turning your stubborn gaze to the clock behind his curly head. you can nearly smell his cologne from where you sit, and you're almost drooling. you can't let him see it.

"what's going on? your grade is dropping. you’re not coming to classes." he says, sounding like he's concerned. you bite your lip, shaking your head as you look at him. "i'm not going to come to class just to watch you flirt with the girls and let them give you fuck me eyes."

"that's exactly what you do to me constantly, as i seem to recall." he bites back. you feel yourself turn red, but you sit forward more so you lean over his desk just like he is.

"whatever. i don't care, i'd just appreciate it if you'd tell me that you're going to fuck other students so i can leave. and not walk in on you right before you do so.” you say, suddenly so thankful you chose to come later when nobody was on this floor, the only other person in the building being the custodian sleeping at the front desk.

professor tozier tilts his head with a smirk, "oh, you're adorable. my jealous little slut, crying because she can't have me to herself."

your jaw drops, the remaining thin layer of professionalism gone the minute he opened his mouth. "fuck you, professor. i'm leaving."

"i wasn't finished." he says sternly, and something in his voice makes you sit back down. he looks mad and it's confusingly hot, your legs feeling like jelly because of your excitement. "if you weren't such a brat, you would have heard me say that i'm not fucking anyone else. student or not."

you stare at him, confused as your face reddens again. you're embarrassed. "but-"

"the woman you saw last week, when you came back after the lecture. that's professor marsh, she's one of my colleagues and best friends. she's also happily married." he says, sounding pissed off. "i'd appreciate some trust, it's not like i going around fucking every student who wants to open their legs for me - although plenty have tried." he says.

you feel yourself soaking through your panties. god you have problems,don't you? "i'm sorry sir, i-" you start but he shakes his head, standing up from his chair and walking towards you. you watch him with big eyes, as he clenches his jaw. "no, don't apologize. just know. you're the only one." he mutters as he crosses behind you.

you stare at his empty desk, face blushing at his words. the only one. the click of the lock on the door gives you butterflies, and then he's behind you, hand trailing over your shoulder. "if you still want me, that is. your most recent paper was very good, but i know you can do much better. you just have to try for me." he's caressing your neck now, lips ghosting over the skin. you let out a soft moan, goosebumps raising on your soft skin as he feathers it with kisses. your butterflies are alight as you turn your head, kissing him.

he grips your jaw almost immediately, pulling your head upwards towards where he bends over you. you gasp as his hand rests on your thigh, and he smiles against your lips. "you're so sensitive, hmm? when was the last time you touched yourself?"

you gulp, shaking your head, shocked still by his boldness and by your willingness to be honest. "a f-few days ago." you say shakily as he kisses along your jaw, hand sliding up your thigh slowly. he tuts, "baby, you're going to fall apart when i'm through with you." he mutters, almost to himself, and that makes you choke out a moan.

he kisses you again and you push back enthusiastically, hand raising to palm him through his slacks. he's already semi hard, which makes a swell of pride blossom in your chest. but suddenly he breaks off the kiss, hissing in surprise. "fuck." he mutters, backing away from you. you blink, did you go too far? your thighs press together as richie rushes to his desk. "i have to proctor this exam in zoom. in....two minutes."

oh.

you blink and watch as he logs into his laptop and adjusts his hair in its camera. it's endearing, in a way that makes you smile, though extremely riled up and disappointed. you begrudgingly reach for your things, but professor tozier's hand comes up to stop you, "please stay. it's only going to be max forty minutes. i have beer in the bottom drawer if you want some." he rushes out, and you smile. "you sure?" you say shyly.

he looks at you, pausing. "yeah, y/n. of course." he says gently, smiling almost shyly back at you. he looks so young, it makes you stare in awe. his dimple pops and you hear the sound of ringing, the students joining the call to take their exam. only professor tozier would have an exam this late on a friday. asshole, you laugh to yourself.  

you open a bottle of beer you find hidden under a stack of manilla folders, but don't even take a sip as your mind wanders. richie's speaking to the class, sounding professional and confident. you wonder if he's still hard.

so you smirk, feeling bold, and you get down onto your hands and knees and crawl under his desk until you're face level with his belt. gently, you spread his legs apart so you can get up and closer to him, and the slight jump he gives confirms that he didn't even notice you go under the desk.

you gently start to palm him and he clears his throat loudly, fist slamming on the desk slightly above you. over the speakers you hear professor, are you alright? and then richie's muttering, "y-yes, just a slight problem i need to fix." he's gritting it though his teeth and you grin to yourself as you unzip his pants and pull out his fully hard cock, running your fingers over it and smearing the precum. he's breathing tensely and he starts to speak to the class, giving tips on a certain question after one student asks him a question.

you pump him a few times gently, then start to kitten lick his tip, wanting to tease him since you've never had the upper hand like this before. you flatten your tongue along the bottom of his cock, teasing him a bit before slowly taking him into your mouth, sliding a bit before bobbing. the quiet groan he lets out as you take him as far as you can is sinful, a student asking richie about formatting as you suck him off. bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks and relish in the feeling of richie’s cock in your throat, stretching you out and making you moan around him.

"y-yeah, so for this i'm really just looking for MLA-" he almost hiccups to cover up a groan as you try to hold yourself still with him all the way down your throat, as far as you can take him. "MLA formatting, nothing out of the ordinary. thank you for asking that."

and then you hear him slam a button and he groans out, “you feel so good baby.” he hisses, his hand moving from above the desk down to grip the back of your head, carding through your hair. "don't fucking stop." he says, his hand guiding your head as you work hard.

after a few minutes you pull off of him to take a few breaths, pumping as much as you can with your hand as he tries to act like he isn't getting sucked off while proctoring an exam. you can hear people starting to turn in their exams and saying goodbye, so you take him back into your mouth and try to relax, breathing through your nose as his cock twitches in the back of your throat and you gag.

you bob your head after that, your tongue flat against his cock as he slightly bucks his hips. you feel him type out something for the class and then he moans very lowly, bucking his hips up and you choke a bit as he slides further in your mouth and stretches your throat.

he doesn't feel you that he's about to cum, you just know, and he's clenching the edge of his desk and breathing hard as you eagerly swallow around him, moving slightly so the new angle makes him toss his head back for a brief moment before snapping back to the screen.

"professor, are you sure you’re okay?" someone asks again. you keep bobbing up and down on him as he mutters, "yes, thank you ms. ruben. finish your work and we can leave."

you figure those words are for you, and you move harder, helping him chase his high. he pulls your hair suddenly, which makes you keen forward and take him deep, gagging as you force your throat to relax.

and then soon he’s hitting his high, cumming in your mouth with a silent shudder, his hand squeezing his desk as the other hovers over his keyboard. you moan a bit as you swallow, pulling off him slowly as he pants, eyes glancing down at you.

you slide back up into your seat and sip on your beer, fixing your hair slightly as his eyes bounce from you to the screen. you smile innocently at him, his cheeks flushed and looking disheveled as he waits fro the last students to finish.

it's about three mintes until they're done and he stares directly at you once he ends the meeting. you expect him to say anything but what comes out of his mouth next.

"if you pull something like that again i will fuck you in front of the entire class.” he says it dead serious, eyes bright behind his glasses and boring straight into yours.

your legs feel like they could give out and you turn red as you watch him, “don’t act like that thought doesn’t have you already getting hard again.” is all you can think to say. it spills from your mouth quickly, your mind not even given time to think before you say it.

richie narrows his eyes, rising slowly from his chair and walking towards you, eyes locked the whole time. “funny. because you’re the one who couldn’t even wait two minutes before needing my cock in her mouth. i bet you’d let me fuck you anywhere i wanted and you’d still thank me for it afterwards, right princess?”

you’re not really used to this fierce banter between you and your professor - but when has this ever been professional?

you squeeze your legs together and stand up on wobbly legs. “shut up. you’re the one who said you’d give me first-hand experience on my essay. you wanted me the second you saw me.” you try to regain the upper hand, but he’s walking towards you and your legs hit the edge of his desk.

��of course i did, doll.” he says lowly, lips suddenly very close to yours. “and i still do.”

and you’re kissing again desperately, days upon days of desperation working its way into your kiss as you sit yourself on his desk and he comes between your legs, gripping your thighs.

he's dragging his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your heat and making you pant with need as you tug his curly strands. his hands then move to quickly undo his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. you whimper slightly as you spread your legs a bit, desperate to finally feel him inside you.

and then his hand is grabbing your face, thumb holding your chin as he turns your head to look right at him. "you better do exactly what i say, princess." he says, looking into your eyes. you nod, his thumb grip stern as he lines up at your entrance. “hm? or you wont get what you want.”

"yes, richie, yes. wan' it so bad, please." you mutter, making him smile. "aren’t you a good girl." he says with a grin, nudging your shoulder down until you’re laying on your elbows, legs bent and feet propped against the edge of his desk. then he’s pulling your lacy underwear aside and pushing into you in one motion.

the sudden stretch fills you to the brim and you let out a guttural noise at the feeling, having not been too warmed up to his cock. your back rubs uncomfortably against the wood of the desk as he pushes into you, but your hands grip his shoulders and all you can think about is richie. but then he stills, staring at you as he’s stretching you out, buried to the hilt.

you think he’s giving you time to adjust and so you relax, breathing as you take in the size of him. after a few moments, you kiss him. “please move richie.”

but he doesnt. and you moan, your legs quivering as he gently caresses one of your bent knees.

“good girl, begging for me.” his hands grip your thighs, holding them open as your eyes roll back slightly, “so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby.”

you turn red at the praise, trying to move your hips and feel him deep inside you. his hand falls to your stomach, pressing slightly. he tuts and you gasp, “stay still for me baby, wanna see you wait for it.”

you whimper, eyes closing as you try to breathe normally. his hands run up and down your sides, stomach, chest, hips, and then down your legs as he stands still, buried in you. your breathing is shaky with need. 

and then when you think you can’t handle it any longer, richie slowly pulls out. you moan, hands gripping his shoulders as the feeling coils your abdomen with pleasure. he starts thrusting slowly, picking up the pace so slowly it was torturous.

your nails rake down his back, and even though it’s through his shirt you’re sure it’ll leave faint red lines. your toes curl in pleasure as he moves his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside you.

“look at you, all wrecked on your professor’s cock.” he pounds you into the desk, lips then falling to suck large marks on your neck, the stinging pleasure adding to the volume of your moans.

his hands rise to lift your shirt up over your chest, sliding up to quickly palm your breasts, his hips starting to snap in an unforgiving pace. you feel him so deep inside of you that tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure building instantly. he’s leaning over you as he hits the sweet spot deep inside you, your vision coming in and out of focus as your legs begin to shake. “yes, richie, right there.” you moan, holding him above you as one of his hands goes to your hip, gripping tight as he pulls you towards him in time with his thrusts. it makes you yelp in pleasure, head tiltin back in euphoria.

he pulls back to look at you, hand tugging on your hair so you look at him as he pounds into you. "look at you, such a brat teasing me while i was teaching.” his voice is deep and rough, "look at you now, drunk on my cock. you just needed to remember your place, huh baby?" he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple, the feeling overwhelming as your orgasm creeps up quickly. “such a pretty girl.” he whispers.

you’re speechless as he pounds into you perfectly, the feeling making you sigh. "so perfect, all for me... so fuckin' pretty, baby." he's muttering kissing you like he's claiming you, his teeth clashing slightly with yours and his tongue dominating. you're weak, legs shaking as he pounds into you.

“are you close, doll?” he asks, eyes closed in bliss as he tilts his head back, hair catching the fluorescent light of his office lamp and looking beautiful. “yes, s’close, please-“ you moan, pulling him to your lips.

your eyes close slightly as he thrusts into you, one hand slipping up to roll your nipple softly and making you moan his name. as he sucks a hickey on to your neck, his thrusts begin to get sloppy and you clench around him. “god, you were made for me, baby. fuck, takin’ it so well.” 

and you hit your high after a series of pleas and moans of richie’s name, your eyes rolling back in euphoria. he’s rubbing your cheek, still thrusting as he whispers, “good girl, cumming on my cock.” the moan he lets out at the feeling of you clenching around him has you red as you feel his hips stutter. “fuck, y/n.”

you’re still clenching slightly from overstimulation as richie quickly pulls out of you, cumming on your bare stomach with a moan of your name, a sweet sound from the pink of his lips. you moan in pleasure as you watch him.

you look up with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high as his head falls on your shoulder. “fuckin’ hell, toots.” he whispers with a laugh, which makes you giggle a bit as you catch your breath, mind still muddled.

after a moment richie pulls away, re-tucking in his pants and straightening his shirt. he crosses behind you and returns with a shy, boyish grin and a box of tissues. you smile back and he gently guides your hand away as he reaches for a tissue himself, wiping you clean gently and pressing kisses over your stretch marks, kissing all the way up to your lips and making you giggle. your stomach is full of butterflies as he helps you right yourself from the desk.

“did you drive here?” he asks. you shake your head, looking up to him for a second, “i walked.” you squeak.

he nods. “i’m driving you.”

you flush, “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that, professor.” you say shyly. he throws you a look as he pulls his jacket on, shutting down his work laptop. “get over here now, doll. and don’t protest. i’m driving you, toots. it will make my night to buy us some chinese takeout.”

your heart flutters as you take his hand, glancing at the ground with a smile as he locks his door, both of you stopping and staring at the plaque on the outside of the door that reads:

professor tozier, sociology dept.

you cough and he looks down the hall before grabbing your hand again and making your way out to the parking lot. it’s silent - both of you certainly thinking about how wrong this, whatever it is, is. you almost roll your eyes at the cheesiness of what you think next - but why does it feel so right?

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​​  @sft-core @clownsloveyou​  @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @trashedfortozier @oceandog13​ @chl0bee​  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-weasley @sassy-uris @loverloserrr

[reddie-fangirl24]

i'm sorry i'm new to this lmao

ask - reddie

WARNING: Slight NSFW. Eddie and Richie take a shower together.

“Okay, Eds, you should be okay to take a shower. I had someone put in a handlebar so you can get in and out of the shower on your own,” Richie told Eddie when he arrived back into the bedroom.

Richie’s smile vanished when he saw how anxious Eddie looked. It was the first time he was taking a shower on his own. For the last two months a nurse, or Richie, give him a sponge bath. Just yesterday the nurse gave clearance that it was okay for him to take showers. Thinking that he’d be relieved, Eddie was not fond of the idea. 

“Hey, Eddie?” Richie got his attention, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed with him.

Eddie jumped a bit and looked at him. “Yeah?” These noticeable bags hung under his eyes. Because Richie was a heavy sleeper, he only woke up if Eddie screamed from a nightmare. 

“Are you okay?” Richie asked him, touching his hand.

“Why are you asking?”

“It’s just... you seem like you’re afraid of the shower,” Richie noted gently.

Eddie was silent, averting his gaze. His eyes fell on the bathroom for one a second until looking away.

Putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, Richie made his boyfriend look at him. “You know there’s nothing wrong with asking me if you need help,” he explained, lightly massaging his thumb along his hand. “I can help y-”

“It’s not that!” Eddie interrupted him.

“Then what’s the problem?” Richie asked, perplexed. 

Feeling his boyfriend trembling under his touch, Richie put both his arms against his shoulders and kissed his head. Forehead kisses were Eddie’s favorite.

“Um, do you remember when Bowers attacked me at the Inn?” His voice squeaked like a child.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Richie did remember. He wasn’t there. He didn’t know if he’d ever forgiven himself for abandoning his friends. If he had been there, could he have stopped Bowers? Then the attack would never have happened. And just thinking about Eddie bleeding from his cheek and fearfully hyperventilating while Ben and Beverly patched him up made the memory worse.

Realizing that he had been quiet, Richie put all those thoughts behind him so he could focus on Eddie.

“Eds, Bowers is dead,” he told him, gently.

“I know, I know! It’s just... I was behind the shower curtain when I stabbed him. I’ve never stabbed anyone,” he mumbled, again resembling a child’s voice. “I’m just scared of something else coming after me. Or what if I accidentally hurt you if you were in the bathroom? I can’t take my mind off of it ‘cause what if -”

“Okay, okay, enough with the ‘what ifs’ now,” Richie studied him, smoothing his hand along his arm. “As long as I am here, nothing is going to happen. Look, do you want me to... shower with you?”

Eddie looked at him, his eyes big. They hadn’t done that yet. In the couple of months that they’d been together, they hadn’t seen each other naked yet. Whenever Richie helped him with the sponge baths, Eddie would do his crotch on his own. Since they were taking things slowly, each were waiting for the right moment.

“Do... would you?”

“If it’s okay with you.”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Only if you are!”

This argument could go on a lot longer. They had to get to a conclusion now. Eddie took a deep breath and smiled at Richie. “Okay.”

Walking into the bathroom, Richie started the shower. He let Eddie brush his hand under the water to let him distinguish the right temperature.

Next, Richie helped him out of his shirt. His eyes glossed over his body. Eddie liked whenever he did that. Myra never looked at him like that - not like they ever had sex that much.

Eddie felt like he stopped breathing for a moment when Richie took off his shirt. Richie’s shoulders were so husky. And his chest. His eyes fell on the way down to the v-shape stopping just at his pants.

“Are you okay?” Richie asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” And he was.

They removed their pants at the same time, standing only in their boxers. Due to Eddie’s bad balance, he almost fell backward. Richie caught him. His heart melted when their flesh pressed together. He didn’t have to but Eddie placed his hands on his bulky shoulders. Oh, what cream did Richie use?

“Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you could help me?” He indicated to his underwear.

Richie’s eyes dipped south. Complying, he dipped down, and Eddie felt goosebumps along his skin when his boxers were pulled down.

“Whoa,” he heard Richie utter.

“What is it?” Eddie asked, alarmed.

Richie looked up at him, his eyes filled with love. “Can I remove yours?”

Standing, Eddie’s hands fell on the band of his boyfriend’s boxers. As soon as Richie stepped out of his boxers, Eddie just stared at Richie. Beautiful was the word, but he was more than that. Oh, how did he never realize?

“Are you ready to get in the shower?” Richie asked him.

Keeping a secure arm around his back, they stopped under the warm water. Eddie shivered a bit when the curtain closed.

“Do you want the curtain open?” Richie asked, noting his behavior. 

“Um, is that okay?” Eddie asked, timidly, eying the opening of the curtain once more.

“‘Course!” Richie beamed. He kept the shower curtain open almost halfway. Even if the water got on the floor, they could clean it up.

Taking the soap, Richie smoothed it all around Eddie’s body, leaving a trace of bubbles. Enjoying the feeling, Richie rubbed Eddie’s stomach, his chest, and then his back. Oh, the sensation felt wonderful against his back. He was gifted with a boyfriend who gave the best massages.

“How do you feel?” Richie asked him, softly.

“It feels nice,” he answered at bliss.

“Want me to do your hair?”

“Okay.”

Pouring a good amount of shampoo in his hands, Richie began to rub it around Eddie’s body. This was nice. Looking at one another the whole time, Eddie never realized how gorgeous Richie was. His jawline, the way his hair got soaked, and how respectful he was. For the first time in years, Eddie felt incredibly happy, his entire being at peace.

“Rich?” Eddie asked once his hair rinsed.

“Yeah?” Richie asked, keeping a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked, staring passionately into his eyes. Lately, he was afraid of blinking, fearful that this would all go away.

Richie smiled that mischievous grin that was Richie Tozier. “Like you really have to ask me?”

Touching his soft skin, Eddie pushed their flesh together. Kissing, their arms wrapped around one another in a warm embrace. Feeling goosebumps when Richie’s hand traced down his spine, Eddie mixed their tongues together. He started kissing Richie’s chest when the former’s hand smoothed his butt.

Starting to get carried away, Eddie gasped when he heard the shower curtain move.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Richie assured him, holding Eddie close. “My fault, sorry.”

Eddie shivered, holding Richie tightly. He could feel Eddie’s heart pounding through his skin. For the rest of their time, Richie held him as the warm water continued to hit their bodies.

[eddiekaspraktozier]

Even after Eddie gets out of the hospital his suffering doesn’t end. Not only is the pain still intense but he also has to deal with a nurse coming to Richie’s house everyday to give him a sponge bath. It’s so embarrassing, he feels like a helpless child.

Every time the nurse comes Eddie sends Richie out of the room. He doesn’t want Richie to see him like that, especially not when they’re trying to navigate their new relationship.

Finally, after months of humiliating sponge baths, Eddie’s strong enough to bath himself.

He tries to take a shower for his first solo journey. Unfortunately, and predictably, it’s a disaster. The water hits his body way harder then he remembered, his feet keep slipping, just opening the shampoo bottle takes his breath away, and he can’t even reach up to wash his hair without bright white pain blinding his vision.

After a half hour of struggling, Eddie falls in the shower, crying out. Of course, Richie comes running to the bathroom door, banging on it, asking if everything’s ok.

Eddie tells Richie not to come in. He would rather get sucked down the shower drain then for Richie to see him like this. But the problem is Eddie cannot get up. He’s helpless. In the end Richie ignores him, coming into to cradle a wet naked Eddie in his arms, lifting him out of the shower.

Eddie’s silent the entire time Richie’s drying him off and when Richie helps him get into his (Richie’s) sweatpants. It even follows them out into the living room, Eddie just staring at his bowl of soup.

Putting down his spoon, Richie sighs, asking, “Are you mad at me?”

Eddie blinks, confused. “Mad? Why would I be mad at you?”

Richie shrugs. “You told me not to come in. I came in.”

“Oh. No. No, I’m not mad at you. I was being stupid. I couldn’t get up. You literally saved my ass.”

“Oh. Ok. Then why-“

“I’m embarrassed,” Eddie jumps in. “I - I didn’t want you to see me like that. I - huh - I imagined the first time you saw me naked being....very different.”

“Oh. Oooh!” Richie blushes.

“I just,” Eddie rushes on, word vomiting, “I just don’t want you to think of me as someone that’s weak and helpless. Someone that needs help with every stupid thing. I want you...I want to be...attracted to me. Not very attractive when you’re flopped like starfish at the bottom of the tub.”

“Eds-“

“Don’t call me Eds.”

“Baby,” Richie says, testing out the endearment, “News flash! I DO find you attractive! Like really, really attractive. Like, f*cking hot.”

Eddie blushes. “REALLY!?”

“YES! REALLY!”

“Oh. Ok. Ok. Alright. Good, good,” Eddie rambles, absorbing this new information. Feeling emboldened, Eddie asks, “Then would you be ok with helping me shower?”

“Ye-Yeah,” Richie blushes deeper. “Of course, babe. I wanna help you get better.”

“I mean, it’s only fair.”

“Fair?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re gonna help me shower you’re gonna be naked too, right? It’s only fair since you’ve already seen me naked.”

“True, true. That’s completely fair.” Richie nods enthusiastically.

“Ok, well, maybe after dinner you can wash my hair?”

“Yup. Yup. Sure. Of course. Anything you want, baby.”

Eddie grins, going back to his soup. He finishes it quickly, looking forward to seeing the glory that is Richie Tozier.

As Eddie predicted the sight of Richie Tozier naked makes him weak in the knees. The real kicker though is the mind blowing head message he receives.

[19tozier]

oh, calamity! (richie tozier)

warnings: angst, past breakup, mention of past fighting

inspired by the song oh, calamity! by all time low

[losers + reader are 25ish]

it starts raining on your walk home from work.

it isn’t completely out of the ordinary, even in a normally sunny city like los angeles, but it’s enough of an inconvenience that your alright mood crumbles into something sour. especially when the light drizzle turns into a sudden downpour when you’re still several blocks away from your apartment.

you curse, tucking yourself into your flimsy jacket. you’re soaked through almost immediately, and it honestly wouldn’t make a difference to book it to your apartment or not, but your eyes catch on a cozy coffee shop you've been meaning to try for weeks now. at the very least, it’ll be warm, and you’ll be able to get some caffeine. your mind made up, you immediately take off for the coffee shop, dashing through the downpour and into the warm air as quickly as you can.

luckily, it’s not too busy inside; most everyone will have been smart enough to stay in their homes with such a storm outside, and the people scattered around the few tables look just as drenched as you are. you smile to yourself and step in line, ordering yourself a hot drink and a muffin.

it’s not until you turn to wait for your drink that you see him.

at first, you’re not even certain it’s him. it has, after all, been nearly three years since the last time you saw his face. but then he turns his head, and the light flashes over his glasses, and you find yourself staring into the unmistakable eyes of one richie tozier. pretty blue eyes that widen at the sight of you before very visibly shutting off.

you pray it will be enough for him to not talk to you. but the universe is not on your side today, because he pushes off of the counter he had been leaning against and walks towards you, just as confident and full of bravado as he always had been.

his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he stops in front of you. “hiya, toots,” he says, his arms crossing over his chest. “it’s been a while.”

his hair’s longer. it tugs at something in your heart, seeing his curls spilling in the wild way you’d always adored. he has it pulled out of his face with a bright pink scrunchie. your hands twitch with the need to push a loose curl behind his ear.

you swallow, trying your hardest not to look him in the eye. it’s difficult with him so close. but your gaze was always dragged to him like a magnet. “hi, richie,” you breathe. you’re proud that your voice doesn’t tremble. “how, um. how have you been?”

he snorts, his lip curling slightly. “really? you’re going to ask how i’ve been?”

you shrug, looking desperately to see if the barista has made your drink yet or not. you want out of this conversation as quickly as possible. “it’s the polite thing to do, tozier. though i guess that’s too much to ask of you, huh?”

you’re pleasantly surprised when it makes him laugh, though you know you shouldn’t be. he’d always liked the back and forth banter the two of you had, pushing you as far as he could and accepting when you pushed him right back. it had made the love between the two of you electric, always alive, until one day something had broken that you didn’t know how to fix, and richie had disappeared from your life before you were ready to let him go.

“didn’t lose that fire, did you?” he grins. his dimple curves into his cheek. you try not to let your eyes linger on it. “how have i been? been alright, i suppose. you know how it is, doll.”

there’s something guarded in his voice. it makes you ache to know that he has practically become a stranger to you, though you can’t find that you blame him. he used to know you better than anyone else in the world. now, you wonder if he could even remember your favorite color.

“what’ve you been up to?” you dare to ask. is it really torture if you inflict it on yourself?

richie’s breath whooshes out of him, his face falling for a fraction of a second before he pastes on that familiar cocky grin and slides his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. it does something funny to your stomach to notice it is the same one you bought him for his twenty-second birthday, the leather a rich dark brown and butter soft, obviously well-worn and well loved.

“i have my own radio show,” he tells you. there’s something that looks strangely young in his eyes. yearning for your praise. “it’s, uh, it’s actually doing pretty well. i can do my voices all i want.”

it’s bittersweet, really, because you’re so proud. you remember the period where richie was just an intern at the local station, begging for a chance to prove he could be great. you remember the period where he was only allowed to take over the late night slots, crawling into bed usually while you were getting up. you remember him staying up far past when he should have, working on his sets and his voices until you stopped him with kisses. your heart seizes in your chest.

“that’s amazing, rich,” you say through the tightness in your throat. “i’m really glad to hear it.”

he clears his throat, his cheeks flushing a gorgeous pink. “what about you, toots? finally wrote a book yet?”

your lips part, shocked that he remembers that, though maybe that’s not fair to him. he had been your muse, after all, the feelings he inspired in you weaving through every idea you could ever manage to have. “yeah,” you breathe, staring up at him with wide eyes. “yeah, i’m writing it right now.”

his smile stays small but it brightens considerably, genuine happiness in the curve of his bottom lip. “i’m glad, doll. i told you you could do it.”

it makes both of you stiffen, the blatant reminder of the history the two of you share. in an attempt to stifle it, you let yourself smirk, raking your eyes up his body. “you look good.”

and the goddamn problem was that he did. he seemed settled in his skin in a way he hadn’t when the two of you had been together, too young to really understand himself yet. now, his broad shoulders are straight, not hunched in on himself, and there’s an air of confidence about him that is unfamiliar but deeply satisfying. you wish you had been there to watch the transformation take place.

he matches your expression, mouth tugging into a lazy smirk. he takes the smallest step closer, towering over you. “thanks, sugar. you look fucking gorgeous, but i’m sure you knew that.” something hesitant passes over his face. “(y/n)—”

“richie,” you beg, half crazed with it. you know that look. you can’t handle that look. “don’t do this.”

he shakes his head, determination settling in the planes of his face. “no, (y/n), you don’t. i need to fucking say this, okay? i need to tell you—”

“richie,” you say again, desperate.

“i need to tell you how much i miss you,” he says over you, his own eyes sparking hotly. “i fucking miss you, sugar, so much it drives me crazy. it’s been three years and i still miss you every fucking day.”

“we broke up,” you remind him, feeling your heart shatter in your chest. “we—we were fighting constantly, don’t tell me you forgot.”

but he’s shaking his head, his shoulders hunching in to get closer to you. “we could’ve made it work,” he says fiercely. “i fucking loved you. i love you. always have, always will. i’m yours, toots, no matter what.”

your chest trembles at how raw his voice is. you’ve rarely seen richie like this, vulnerable and passionate. you want to reach out for him, but there’s something stopping you. in your head, you remember the night he left, where his passion had erupted in a fight so severe you had felt your ribcage break wide open in agony.

“rich,” you whisper, heartbreak in that single syllable.

whatever you’re feeling must show in your face. his expression goes guarded again, straightening up to his full height and passing a rough hand over his face. you ache to feel the distance between you two.

“i just needed to tell you,” he murmurs, his voice low. he glances at you, then at the counter where your coffee has yet to be made. “i guess i’ll see you around, sugar.”

he doesn’t wait for your reply. he doesn’t wait for his coffee. he just turns, huddling in on himself, and pushes back out into the pouring rain.

for a moment, you stand numb. you can’t believe what just happened, seeing the man who will forever own your heart for the first time since he broke it. your body wants to shut down, fall apart right here on this coffee shop floor, coming apart at the seams at the way richie had looked at you. you berate yourself for having him so close and letting him slip right through your fingers, not able to reach out enough to hold him close.

then your legs unlock and you whirl around, ignoring the surprised looks of the people around you. it may not work out, it might end up hurting you more, but you can’t let him go. not again.

you rush out into the rain, barely noticing the downpour that soaks you again. for a moment, you can’t see anything, then your eyes catch on his silhouette, steadily walking away from you. you take off towards him, willing your body to go faster.

“richie, wait!”

he turns just as you crash into him, jumping into his arms and willing him to catch you. he does, he always has, and when his arms come up around you it feels like coming home.

richie’s kiss is achingly familiar, the taste of him somehow completely the same. he kisses you so desperately, clutching you closer than you’ve ever been before, the rain doing nothing to put out the fire growing inside of you. you swallow his whimper, stroking your thumbs along his cheekbones, wanting nothing more than to climb inside of his ribcage so you never have to be without him ever again. he holds you like he wants to do the same.

finally, your kisses slow down, become sweet and soft. he gently places you on your feet, cupping your face in his hands.

“i love you too, i love you so fucking much,” you tell him, your voice cracking. “i’m so sorry i didn’t follow you that night.” you’ve regretted it since the door had slammed shut behind him.

his smile finally reaches his eyes. you melt at the sight of him, soft and sweet and in love, just for you. “it’s okay, sugar,” he murmurs to you. “you followed me this time.”

“i’ll follow you anywhere,” you say, the truth pulsing wild in your chest. “i’m not letting you go. not ever.”

he laughs, the sound wet and buoyant. “that a threat, baby?”

you thread your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “no,” you breathe against his mouth, kissing him over and over and over. you’ll be damned if you ever stop kissing him ever again. “it’s a promise.”

[harrysweasleys]

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.