#soulwillower remastered series

[soulwillower]

rude boy [remastered] • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

hi i've decided to start off my remastered series with a reader fav :) hope yall like it! this one is much more dirty ig, so lmk if thats smth yall wannt more of.

requested: hii💕 could u do a richie smut where he kinda hates her and so does she…but the sex is good lol? i got inspired by rude boy by rihanna haha

+ @kennafild Ohhhh pleeeese, Rude Boy (Richie Tozier) 💖💖💖 it’s my favorite

warning: swearing, dirty talk, light choking, use of bitch + slut, semi-public sex, slight voyeur themes, unprotected hate sex, they are not fucking nice to each other, reader slaps richie and it awakens somethin in BOTH of them, unedited

[losers + reader are aged up to college, 20+ in this.]

remastered version: 2.8k.

♡

it's quiet as you wipe around the coffee machine, the orange light still on under the buzzing bright fluorescents. you make a note to yourself to turn it off when your manager leaves.

you sigh as the last customer walks out the front doors of the diner, a small receipt lingering where she'd sat for hours, making googly eyes across the bar counter, playing with the stupid straw of her shake. walking over, you don't even have to look at it to know there's a number scribbled on it with most likely a name, probably a heart. your stomach recoils in disgust, snatching up the paper and shoving it in the waistband of your skirt, figuring the trash was already taken out for the night.

your boss walks over to where you stand at the counter, wiping it off with a rag. “she's finally gone?” she asks and you nod, rolling your eyes. your manager chuckles with a shrug , "kid is a menace, but he sure brings in a lot of service."

it makes you huff; it gets on your nerves , but you know she's right. sadly, that menace is the very reason your tips are so high. she pulls a sweater over the uniform, sounding exhausted,  "right, well i’m gonna head out. can you and richie lock up?” she asks as you resist the urge to gag at the name of your coworker, but you nod nonetheless. “yeah, of course.”

she leaves a few minutes later and you pull at the collar of your stupid, synthetic retro diner uniform. it’s red and black and awfully cheesy.  employees are allowed to choose between a matching red skirt or black slacks - it’s an old school kitschy diner on the outskirts of derry that pays shitty. but a summer job is a summer job, and the tips weren’t awful so you can't really complain.

but the worst thing by far about working at the diner came in the form of a 6'2 nightmare with a sharp jawline and a serious nicotine addiction. richie fucking tozier.

he’s been a server here the longest and you were seen, to his chagrin, as the most responsible, so you two were trusted to close the diner together most nights. didn’t mean you got along though, not at all. he was loud, obnoxious, a slacker, and a scrawny, phony asshole. you’ve never liked him and he’s never liked you, and that's just the way it is. he is the worst part of every summer and winter break, and you can only be thankful that you never went to derry high. 

there were some pretty decent people on staff, thankfully. you liked your manager, and you like mike, who worked dish, and many of the servers were more than tolerable. but richie fucking tozier.

during shifts, richie always played music on the jukebox and serenaded loudly to every boy and girl who stepped foot in the diner as they sat at the counter and swooned. he barely did his work and got way too generous of tips - you know it’s solely because of his looks, because he is an awful server and an even worse human. but he has curly, fluffy dark hair, freckles, and a face sculpted by aphrodite. he always smelled like cologne and cigarettes, always had his shirt unbuttoned way lower than necessary, and walked with a stupid bounce in his step that some people saw as charm.

as you finish mopping up the dining area, you hear footsteps and your eyes catch richie’s beat up, lyric-scribbled red high tops. “richie! i just mopped there!” you yelp at him as you snap your head up to stare at him in anger. he just shrugs, “you missed a few spots anyways.” he says through a mouth full of chocolate milkshake.

you fight the urge to slap the glass out of his hand, “could you stack the chairs?” you ask him, trying to stay civil. last time you and richie locked up together, you'd argued so bad that he’d thrown a glass and shattered it. you’d both gotten in huge trouble.

“why can’t you?” he asks, his voice awfully teasing. you glare at him as you sit down, throwing the mop as it hits his chest. he catches it against him, the handle making a clacking noise when it hits the star of david chain on his bare chest. you scoff, why did he have to wear his uniform unbuttoned like that?

“fine, i’ll stack the chairs. you mop.” you grumble, getting up to lift the chairs. you hear a screeching noise but you refuse to look, knowing he’s sitting down and that would just fuel your fire. as you lean over one of the booths, something makes your head turn and you see richie just in time for him to snap his eyes away. your eyes widen - he was just checking you out. god damn these fucking skirts. “what are you looking at, tozier?” you spit venomously. as much as you don’t want to admit it, there was something really hot about the way he was staring.

“shut up.” he grumbles, getting up and locking the doors before walking back into the break room. once you finish out in the dining area, you walk towards the back to see him checking over the kitchen. “hey, did mike take out the trash before he clock-”

“yes, of course he did, y/n.” richie cuts you off. you cross your arms, “i’m just trying to get our job done! christ, richie, you make me so fucking mad.” you spit. he turns to look at you, his eyes bold and his cheeks splattered with pink and freckles. “i hate that i have to fucking deal with you. i should fire you.” he hisses, turning off the dishwasher and walking over to the front counter. you're hot on his heels.

“that's rich. you’re a fucking nightmare to work with! and you’re not my fucking boss!” you yell, glaring at him.  "well the chart begs to fucking differ.“ he spits, a chipped black fingernail pointing to where the employee chart lists your names, him being slightly higher than yours because of experience. you think briefly you might deck him in the face.  "we’re payed the same, you fucking bonehead!” you all but yell, stepping up to him. “and i do so much more work than you! all you do is flirt with everyone until they take pity on you and give you a tip.”

you expect him to scream back at you, but instead he looks extremely pissed while taking a step closer. “do you know how fucking jealous you sound right now, y/n?” he hisses. something makes you turn bright red in the face, but you scoff at the absurd accusation. “jealous? of who?” you all but yell, your arms flying up. it’s only now that you notice that he has you with your knees against the break table.

“of all the people i fuck.” he says, his voice calm but sinister and dangerous. you scoff again, “i hate you.” you say, leaning towards him. something about the way he looks makes you want to hit him as hard as you can but also shove him against the wall and make out with him. he chuckles as if something about what you said was funny, “i don’t hear you denying it, princess.”

you roll your eyes, turning to wipe the counter and hide your flushed face. "you're so immature. it's just not professional." 

he scoffs, converses crossing as he leans back against the dessert case, "professional? I've seen you light a cig on the burners in the back. I've seen you eat food off a customer's old plate!" he hisses, tossing the rag he was using on the floor. narrowing your eyes, you turn, "you do that shit too! everyone does." 

he rolls his doe eyes, shaking his head until something on you catches his eye. reaching quickly, he grabs the receipt from your waistband, your reaction too slow as he lifts it high above your heads, far out of reach. "richie," you protest, annoyed. maybe flustered. 

his smile is bright and teasing, "what's this, y/n?" he murmurs, reading it as he holds it up to the light. you brush hair from your face, flustered as he raises a brow, "is this your-" he looks at you, "is this your number? you were going to give me your number?" he's astounded. you panic, "no, it's - it's from- its trash." you argue. he stares at you, disbelieving. "you have the hots for me or somethin' toots? that's so cute." he's smirking.  "you know that's not true." you hiss.

"listen, i know i csn be intimidating, but if you maybe just tried a smile, y-" but angrier than ever, you shove him back in aggravation before he can finish. he stumbles back from your force, hands falling back to steady himself. "FUCK," he yells, hand shooting back up to his lips. "y/n! why isn't the coffee machine off?" he yells. you blink, huffing, "I was going to turn it off, but someone decided to be a fucking pain in the ass!" you counter. 

"well what, were you just schlepping around out here while I was closing?!" he hisses. you want to scream, "you know what? you're a fucking asshole. you can close yourself." you smile, sickeningly sweet as you lay a sarcastic hand on his arm. patting it, you move to shove past him.

his fingers are tight as he stops you, wide, angry eyes staring you down. he pulls you eye level, leaning down to you. "you're not leaving me, sweetheart." he sneers. you glare, "you can't stop me. why don't you call your girlfriend for company?" you sneer back. ripping your arm away, you turn around and hear a mutter under his breath, "jealous bitch." 

without thinking, you turn around and smack his cheek so hard it echoes in the empty diner. it's quiet for a moment, his cheek bright red and blossoming. your hand stings.

"oy vey," he whispers, large hand holding his jaw before he smirks, shrugging it off. his tongue runs over his teeth and you bite your lower lip to hide your sudden arousal. he nods curtly, laughing gently to himself in disbelief. 

"well, that was actually kind of hot, princess." he mutters, and for some reason that’s it. the princess, that’s all it takes for you to smash your lips against his forcefully.

it’s a kiss that it so rough it’s almost violent; fueled by hatred and adrenaline and something akin to attraction. it happens so quick, you're almost dizzy. he’s pushing your hips harshly into the counter behind you so that you’re sitting up on it, him immediately stepping between your legs. your hands are on his neck and they thread into his hair as your teeth clash and noses hit each other. you hated him so fucking much.

his hands move up so he’s grabbing your bare thigh with one hand, metal cool against your heated flesh and digging in. the other hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him, causing your stomach to flutter with desire. you pull away and immediately attach your lips to the column of his neck, not wanting to have to look at his awful, handsome, heart-stopping face. 

he ruts up against you and you feel the outline of his cock, making you moan against his neck. his hand slides up and under the hem of your skirt, squeezing your hip as you suck a bruise into his throat hard, teeth biting his flesh. he pulls away from you quickly, looking at you with fury. his hand grasps your neck, taking you by surprise and coaxing a moan from your lips before kissing you again.

 it knocks the wind out of you with his force but you quickly recover, dragging your hands down his chest and tracing his bulge with your fingertips. he grunts as he pulls away and looks at you. his eyes bore in to you, his lips swollen.

"you want me so bad," he smirk, "that you'll let me fuck you right here in the diner? anybody could see." he whispers in your ear, fingers softly toying with your throbbing pussy through the your underwear. 

you’re gasping but you recover your breath and shoot him a glare. “well? are you gonna fuck me or are you just going to stare at me like a goddamn airhead?” you spit. he glares at you and pulls you up by your shoulders, spinning you and bending you by the waist so your face is pressed against the cool of the counter.

“oh yeah, this is much better.” he replies snarkily as he pulls your skirt up and grinds against your ass. "so pretty without your fucking attitude." you moan quietly and you hear him undoing his belt buckle. you’re aching and you can feel excitement bubbling in your stomach, wiggling your hips slightly in need.

what you don’t expect is a harsh smack to land on your ass, making you gasp in arousal. his hands squeeze your ass and you look back to see him pumping himself, sliding your panties down your legs. your eyes widen slightly, noticing how big he is, but you groan in impatience, “can you hurry up already?” you spit.

he glares at you and shakes his head . "you're fucking pathetic. just begging to be fucked in this skirt, aren't you?" 

through your ecstacy you hum, "pathetic?" you gasp, "cute coming from you, richie. you're basically dreaming about fucking me every day. don't think I don't see you look at me." his cheeks redden as you turn back to smirk at him. his hand snacks your ass forcefully, pulling another satisfying moan to fall from your mouth. "for such a dick, I'm surprised you could even get it up. good boy." you smirk. his face contorts, jaw clenching.

brows furrowed in anger, he thrusts in all at once, making you moan so loud it burns your throat; he fills you up perfectly and you drop your head to rest on the counter as he starts to thrust. 

he’s not forgiving; he fucks into you hard and deep and you have to bite your hand to keep from moaning his name in pleasure. you wouldn't be caught dead moaning his name . you’d never hear the end of it. his hands grip your hips so tightly you know there’ll be marks tomorrow and he’s muttering swear words quietly, adding to the wetness between your legs.

 he’s hitting the perfect spot inside you and one glance behind you shows his face just as contorted in pleasure as yours is. you hate to admit it, but he’s fucking hot and the expression is perfect on him.

he’s fucking you into the front counter, your sight falling to the diner windows across from you. he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts you can’t help but whimper his name. you can hear his smirk in his voice, even when your eyes are clenched shut. “sorry, princess, I didn't hear that.”

you groan, half in pleasure and half because you hate how good he’s making you feel. “i fucking hate you s-so much, tozier.” you say, trying to stop your moans but failing miserably. his hips are snapping into yours and you clench around him, knowing you’re about to cum embarrassingly fast.

he hums at your words tauntingly, “say anything you want, slut. but i know it's been five minutes and you’re about to cum on my cock.” he mutters the words and you moan again, your toes curling in pleasure. he thrusts deeper into you and you let out a strangled scream as you hit your peak. your fingers grasp on the edge of the counter as richie plows through your high, chasing his own.

you start to whimper, feeling overly sensitive. he chuckles darkly, “so good. you’re fine.” he mutters, his hands squeezing your ass. he thrusts a few more times before his hips stutter and he finishes inside you with a low moan. his chest is pressed on your back and you can’t seem to catch your breath, feeling limp and extremely pleasured. your legs shake.

holy shit.

he pulls out of you, making you whimper at the sensation and he pulls up your panties, rubbing the seat of your clothed core with his thumb. the stimulation makes you jolt as he pulls your skirt down. you wait, not sure what to say, but richie doesn't waste one moment.

“fuck you.” he whispers in your ear and then he gets up, pulls his pants up, and walks towards the breakroom.

you stand up, to save the last bit of dignity you have, listening to him in the other room grab his keys and jacket, and leave eventually.

 you stand there with the now burned old coffee, breathing heavily, unsure what the fuck just happened but knowing you loved it way too much.

.

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