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mrs-luigi-vargas · 1 year ago

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A Burning Secret

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Characters: Bowser Jr, Rosalina, Luma, Bowser Relationship: Bowser Jr & Rosalina, Bowser Jr & Luma, Bowser Jr & Bowser, Bowser & Rosalina Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Almost half a year after the universe was reborn, Bowser Junior lets Rosalina in on a secret. Word Count: 1,995 words A/N: Inspired by this post!

[AO3 Link]

~~~

Rosalina’s afternoon was proving to be peaceful so far.

Shortly after lunch, she’d taken to walking in a nearby park with one of her Lumas as company, enjoying the time before she needed to get ready for the next scheduled kart race. She’d run into Mario and Peach, who’d evidently had a similar idea. Mario had even given her a spare bag of birdseed before they’d parted, which she was sitting on a bench near an empty playground and using now to feed an eclectic variety of local birds.

Or at least she had been doing that, until a green and yellow blur sped into the cluster of gathered birds with a yell, sending them all squawking and flapping their wings to flee, which likewise sent her Luma into a giggle fit. When Rosalina lowered her arms after the cacophony had ended, someone was standing in the middle of the space the birds just left, laughing triumphantly about their departure.

“Bowser Junior, was it?” Rosalina asked, and he turned to grin broadly at her.

“Yeah, that’s me!” He puffed up his chest, looking every inch his father’s son. “Prince Bowser Junior! Hey, you’re that Star Lady from space!”

“Princess Rosalina,” she corrected, but Bowser Junior was only half-listening, looking for more birds to scare.

His search, despite bearing little fruit after the ruckus he’d caused earlier, only extended a certain distance away from Rosalina’s bench. “Dad got lost,” he told Rosalina when she asked why that was, “and this is where I’m supposed to wait for him if either of us gets lost.”

“...I see.”

Bored with searching for birds, Bowser Junior cambered onto the bench next to Rosalina. Eventually, now that everything was still, some birds came back to eat the remaining birdseed on the ground. Rosalina tossed them some more to snack on.

Floating above them, their Luma companion mused about the birds they were feeding, and how tiny and insignificant their lives were. Like theirs, it supposed, small stitches in the vast fabric of the universe. Stitches that affected the fabric the most when cut. It giggled. “Ah, to have my string cut someday...” it mused, bobbing and twirling in the air. “To leave behind a void that will never be the same, even if it’s filled...”

“Cut...like dying?” Bowser Junior furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Of course! The string of fate, sliced clean by the blades of the unturnable~!”

“...You’re weird,” Bowser Junior said. The Luma giggled again.

Rosalina’s eyes slid from the regrowing crowd of birds to the child sitting next to her. She considered giving him her bag of birdseed, so he could have a go at feeding the birds and perhaps deem that a better way to interact with them than scaring them off, but he looked too deep in thought to be bothered. And sure, almost half this planet’s orbit ago he had been a whole lot of trouble as part of Bowser’s attempt to take over the universe, but that was more his father, not him. Which was why she felt the need to ask him if there was something wrong. “Sorry about my Luma,” she added, thinking something it said had upset him. “Its demeanor can be...off-putting to most.”

Said Luma pouted at her. Bowser Junior huffed a laugh. But he still looked rather troubled for someone so young, fiddling with his bandanna and staring off into the distance. Rosalina decided not to push him, being patient. And that patience paid off, as with a final look between her and her Luma, he asked, “Can I tell you a secret?” in a small voice.

The Luma floated toward him, curiously. Rosalina leaned in, subtly.

“I died once,” Bowser Junior quietly told them.

“You did?!” The Luma gasped, an outward echo of Rosalina’s own surprise that exchanged her muted horror for amazed delight.

“Shh!” Bowser Junior covered its mouth, looking around furtively. “Quiet! It’s a secret!”

Whatever the Luma wanted to say next was muffled under Bowser Junior’s hands. “When?!” it asked when Bowser Junior removed them, obediently dropping its voice to a hushed whisper.

“Uh...a couple months ago, I think?”

Ah, Rosalina thought. “That supernova...you were sucked in by its black hole.”

“Huh? Black hole...?” Bowser Junior looked confused, as if he had no idea of the event that almost had the entire universe destroyed, despite being near the epicenter of it. But his face quickly cleared, and he shook his head. Rosalina’s stomach sank. It was something else...?

“What was it like, what was it like?!” the Luma asked, vibrating in excitement.

“Um.” Bowser Junior backed away from the Luma’s enthusiasm, bumping into Rosalina. Looking down at him in concern, she was about to tell him he absolutely did not have to indulge the Luma’s curiosity in the slightest, but then he took a breath and began speaking, each word carefully considered.

“I fell,” he began, frowning. The Luma leaned forward in anticipation. “And the ship fell, too. And then...and then...” His voice trailed off.

“You don't have to discuss it,” Rosalina interrupted firmly, with a stern glance at her Luma. “Not if the memories are too much to bear for you.”

But to her surprise, her words had the opposite intended effect; Bowser Junior’s vulnerable expression was joined by a stubborn glint in his eye, and he barreled on.

“I fell and it got hot,” he said in a rush. “And bright,” he added. “And really hot. And then...” The resolve faded. He searched for what to say next. He swallowed, thickly. “I woke up,” he finished simply, head bowed and shoulders hunched.

Though his description was vague, the Luma practically had stars in its eyes hearing it. “...Did it hurt?” it breathed, enraptured.

“.........Yeah.”

“Woah...”

“I’m sorry,” Rosalina said, heart heavy.

“It's okay, I think...you didn't do anything,” Bowser Junior reassured her, as if that wasn't the entire problem with this situation. But she'd been too far away to even see most of what was going on in Bowser’s galaxy back then, let alone do anything to help. And there was no way Mario and Peach knew either, Rosalina realized abruptly, though they'd been closer to the action. They'd be beating themselves up about it endlessly if they did. But what about — ?

“Does your father know?”

“No!” Wide-eyed, Bowser Junior grabbed at her dress. “Don't tell him! Or he won't let me go fight Mario with him anymore...! He already barely lets me help, now...!”

...She should probably tell his father. But Bowser Junior had started tearing up some, so...

“Alright, I won't tell,” Rosalina promised. Bowser Junior sighed in relief. “But,” she continued, “only as long as you promise to tell your family about what happened soon.”

“Yes, you should tell them!” the Luma cheered, twirling around the pair. “The knowledge of what's after death! It deserves to be treasured and shared~!”

“...You’re weird,” Bowser Junior told the Luma, but there was the faintest of smiles on his face as he wiped at his cheeks. “Okay,” he said next, and Rosalina gave him a starbit to munch on for it. And then a couple more when he started pestering her for them, and then a few more after that.

Not long after, Bowser walked down the path towards them, face pinched in worry and clearly in search of his son. “Dad!” Bowser Junior exclaimed, hopping off the bench and running up to meet him.

“There you are!” Bowser knelt to ruffle his son’s hair. “Didn't I tell you to stay with me so you wouldn't get lost?”

“I wasn't lost,” Bowser Junior grumbled. “You’re the one that disappeared.”

Bowser chuckled indulgently. But then Bowser Junior’s exasperated expression became overshadowed by uncertainty, and Bowser’s grin dimmed to match. “What’s up, son?” Bowser asked, voice softening.

“Um,” Bowser Junior said, and then quieted. His eyes flicked to the ground, to his father, to the Luma who had floated into his periphery, to a different spot on the ground. He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Bowser bent down further to better meet his son’s eyes. “You sure?”

Bowser Junior nodded.

“Oh.” Bowser straightened, putting a hand on Bowser Junior’s shoulder. “Okay. Uh, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know!” Bowser Junior chirped. He smiled at Bowser, small yet light. “Maybe later. I’m going to go play over there now.” he pointed at the nearby playground.

Though he still looked worried, Bowser met his son’s smile with his own, similarly warm. “Go for it,” he said. “Just don't wander off again, yeah?”

“You wandered off,” Bowser Junior insisted with a sigh. Nonetheless, he ran to the playground. The Luma followed him, sprinkling stardust as it floated about his head, stardust that caused Bowser Junior to sneeze. The Luma laughed, and when Bowser Junior began chasing it around in indignation for doing so it flew off to a hiding place underneath the slide with a wide grin. Bowser watched them go with a thoughtful look, but he seemed to accept his son’s new friend in the end.

But then he noticed his son’s new friend’s guardian, and he flinched at her cool stare. Rosalina kept it up even as he worked up the nerve to say something, perhaps because their charges were getting along mere yards away.

“So, uh.” He tried to meet her eyes. He didn't succeed. “He didn't bother you too much, did he...?”

“...He was fine,” Rosalina replied tersely. Bowser huffed at her answer.

“No, he was definitely a handful," he said. "He’s always a handful.”

Despite the complaint, he sounded fond. Rosalina understood that feeling intimately. So she decided to throw him a bone. “No more than any of my Lumas can be,” she offered, and Bowser laughed a little, relaxing slightly.

“Yeah, I guess you’d know about that.” He grinned at her like she was just a fellow parent, and not like he was the monster who had attacked her home, scared her children, and almost destroyed the universe months prior. There was really no reason he couldn't be both, Rosalina mused. But as a fellow parent, Rosalina should probably tell Bowser something about what his son had told her. She’d promised not to, though, so she didn’t. Instead, “After the universe was reborn,” she said, “how did your son fare?”

Bowser looked surprised at the question. “He, uh, fared fine. He’s lucky he didn't get hurt, from what I heard. Though” — Bowser frowned — “there’ve been nightmares. And some art. Of vents or somethin’, I dunno; he won't let me see any of it. Don't blame him, though; I shouldn't have lost track of him near the end of all that. ” Bowser’s face twisted into something guilty. “Gonna be keeping a better eye on him from now on, for sure,” he muttered, crossing his arms and looking off in the direction of the playground, where the Luma was cheering as Bowser Junior scaled the jungle gym. “We’ll get through this, and then I’m not losing him like that ever again.”

Rosalina hummed. She hadn't been sure about what Bowser’s answer would be, but the one she heard at least assured her that Bowser Junior was in good hands, and would continue to be so after he fulfilled his end of their promise.

“Dad!” Bowser Junior called from atop the jungle gym. When Bowser didn't move within milliseconds, he called for him again. And again. And —

“Alright, alright, I'm coming!” Bowser yelled back, amused. Without a second glance to Rosalina he ambled toward the playground with large steps. When Bowser Junior shouted at him to hurry up, Bowser smirked and all but stopped moving. He laughed at the resulting groaning about it, grin widening as said groaning turned into laughter of its own. As he walked further away, Rosalina tuned out the rest of his and his son’s exchange. With one eye kept on the playground, Rosalina sat back and resumed feeding her birds.

#this fic sits well below my usual quality of work #and thats because i wanted to see what would happen if i stopped giving a shit about the quality of the work XD #(i was only mostly successful in that endeavor)#a lot of aspects of this fic sit outside of my current skill level anyway #so if there was ever a time to eschew quality this was it lol #i still did a pretty decent job tho i think!#mlv.fic #smb #anyway happy three year anniversary to the post that ruined (lighthearted) the ending of Mario Galaxy for me forever lmao #don't consider it a headcanon of my own but its implications are. fascinating.#(and also really funny in kind of an awful way haha)

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judesficrecs · 2 days ago

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ive been waiting for this oneeee

renting crisis, part one. richie jerimovich x reader.

summary: in a last ditch attempt to save you both from the rising cost of rent and the loneliness you feel following mikey’s death, richie asks you to move in with him. a complicated relationship between you ensues.

a/n. first post ever. hopefully more to come soon 💌

slow burn, but not that slow.

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the beef - may, 2022

————————————————————————

you’re sitting at a table, counting tips, looking exhausted. richie leans against the counter, watching you. he’s trying to play it cool, but it’s obvious he’s been thinking about something.

“yo.”

“what, rich?” you respond, without looking up.

he kisses his teeth. “you still getting fucked on rent?”

you scoff, rubbing your eyes. “what do you think?”

richie’s silent for a moment before he speaks up. “i think… i got a couch,” you finally look up at him, squinting, trying to figure out if he’s serious.

“yeah, so do i. what’s your point?”

shrugging, real casual, he continues. “i dunno. just saying. i got space. spare room. wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you, you know, crashed there for a while.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and why would i do that?”

richie mocks offence, hand over his heart like he’s just been shot. “jesus christ, i make one nice offer and you act like i just asked you to fucking marry me.”

“you’re not nice.”

“i can be.” he retorts, grinning.

you study him for a long beat. he won’t look at you and continues to pretend to wipe down the counter, like it’s no big deal. but it is. and you know it.

you nod softly. “okay.”

richie glances up, surprised you actually said yes. he covers it with a shrug.

“yeah?”

smiling back, you bite your bottom lip. “yeah. but if you piss me off, i’m keying your fuckin’ car.”

he grins, clapping his hands together. “ahhh, there she is!”

you both smirk at each other. it’s not sentimental, it’s not dramatic—it’s just two people who work in a shit hole finding a way to make it a little easier.

————————————————————————

richie’s apartment - a week later

————————————————————————

the apartment is small but decent. lived-in. you lean on the couch, folding laundry that definitely isn’t yours. richie walks in, stops, and frowns.

“uh, what the fuck is this?”

you don’t bother looking up. “your clean underwear. you’re welcome.”

he groans like you just kicked him in the balls. “i don’t need you touching my fucking boxers.”

“trust me, i don’t want to. but if i didn’t do it, you’d be freeballin’ at work in two days.” you deadpan.

grumbling, he sits next to you on the arm of the couch. “not the worst thing in the world.”

“you are disgusting.”

richie, now grinning, kicks his feet up. “yeah, yeah. you done hogging the tv? i wanna put the game on.”

quickly, you snatch up the remote, hugging it close to your chest. “i’m watching the vampire diaries.”

“are you fucking serious?” he groans.

“yup.”

the two of you bicker for another minute, but it’s easy, it’s comfortable. neither of you say it, but it’s nice not being alone.

————————————————————————

the apartment - june, 2022

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you walk into the kitchen, still half-asleep, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that is definitely not yours—it’s one of richie’s old bulls hoodies. richie is at the counter, eating straight out of a cereal box. je does a double take when he sees you

“yo, is that my hoodie?”

you grab a mug, yawning. “might be.”

richie throws his arms in the air. “you can’t just steal my shit, dude.”

“i absolutely can.” you retort as you pour your coffee.

he snorts. “nah, see, this is why roommates don’t work out. this is how wars start.”

you take a sip of your beverage, then flip him off without looking. richie sighs, throwing a handful of cereal at you. you dodge it.

“you’re a fucking child.” your insult doesn’t land and the man in front of you just rolls his eyes.

“yeah, and?”

beat. you eye the cereal box in his hand.

“that better not be my fucking cocoa puffs.”

richie lets out a laugh, his mouth full. “it’s our cocoa puffs now.”

you glare at him, then lunge for the box. you wrestle for it like literal children until richie finally lets go, sending you stumbling back. you hold the box triumphantly, out of breath.

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

he shakes his head, shaking with laughter. “you’re the fuckin’ worst.”

you shake your head back, mockingly. “nah, you are.”

you share a grin. it’s dumb, but it’s fun.

————————————————————————

the apartment - july, 2022

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more comfortable in your new living situation, you sit at the kitchen table, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. richie walks in, downing a beer, eyebrows raised.

“oh no. what the fuck is this?”

once again, you don’t look up. “house rules.”

he snorts. “what is this, fuckin’ summer camp?”

ignoring him, you read out loud. “rule #1: if you leave dishes in the sink, i will kill you.”

dramatic.

“rule #2: no watching porn in the living room.”

richie furrows his eyebrows, the crease between them becoming more apparent by the second. “woah, woah. i don’t—,”

pointing at him, you avoid eye contact. “i don’t want to know.”

he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, raising his other hand in surrender.

fair.

you clear your throat, continuing.

“rule #3: If you eat my food, you replace my food.”

“you’re never gonna let the cocoa puffs thing go, huh?” he quips.

sneering, you tilt your head in a sarcastic manner. “not in this lifetime, asshole.”

richie snatches the paper from her, looking it over. you roll your eyes, snatching it back. he sits across from you, menacingly.

“you know, i kinda dig this.”

immediate confusion.

“the rules?”

shrugging, he picked at the label on his beer bottle. “nah, just… this. you here. dunno.”

you peer up at him through your lashes. it’s the closest thing to sincere richie’s ever been. you just nod, hiding a small smile.

“yeah.”

you don’t say anything else. he just sips his drink. you wring your hands together.

————————————————————————

the beef - august, 2022

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this time, you’re behind the counter, dealing with a customer who is very much testing your patience.

the horrible man grumbles, pointing at the menu behind you with a waggly finger.

“i don't get why you don't have more options.”

you force a smile, feeling yourself beginning to slowly die on the inside. “because it's a sandwich shop.”

the cunt across from you doesn’t miss a beat. “yeah, well, that’s stupid.”

dryly, you lean forward on your elbows. “i'll let corporate know.”

he scoffs at you. the nerve. “you got a real attitude problem, you know that?”

fuck you. you think, but you don’t have to say it because before you can, richie appears beside you. he grins, but there’s nothing friendly about it.

“you got a problem with her?”

the customer blinks, taken aback. “i didn't say that.”

"i-i didn't say that.” richie mocks. “shut the fuck up. you don't like the menu? go somewhere else.”

the man splutters. turning red.

“excuse me-,”

your coworker-turned-roommate drops his smile, eyes dangerous. “no, excuse me. get the fuck outta here.”

the customer glares, but ultimately backs off, mumbling something under his breath as he leaves. richie watches him go, then turns back to you, who's just staring at him.

you blink slowly. “jesus, rich.”

but he only shrugs, walking off. “what?”

“fuckin’ psycho.” you say to yourself, shaking your head. you turn back to the register, biting back a small smile as you move on to the next customer.

————————————————————————

the apartment - september, 2022

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the apartment is dimly lit, mostly by the glow of the tv. richie is on the couch, flipping through channels with another beer in hand. you’re is in the kitchen, rinsing out a glass, moving slower than usual. you’ve been quiet all night. though richie doesn’t think much of it—until he hears a quiet sniffle. he barely turns his head.

he’s casual, not even looking away from the screen. “yo, you sick or some shit?”

silence. then, another sniffle. he frowns, finally turning to look at you. you’re standing at the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter, your shoulders tense. he sees the slight shake in your back.

fuck. she’s crying. he thinks.

richie sits up, his voice softer now. “hey.”

you quickly wipes her eyes and turn your back more, like you’re trying to hide. you let out a breath, trying to play it off.

“it’s nothing.”

he throws his arm down the side of the couch, searching for the remote. “yeah, alright. you’re just standing there crying ‘cause of nothing.”

you exhale through your nose, frustrated, but your voice betrays you, wobbling.

“i don’t fuckin’ cry.”

richie tilts his head, tone dry as he finally pauses the tv. “yeah? what’s that, then?”

you huff a laugh, but it’s weak. you shake your head, rubbing at your face aggressively like you’re trying to scrub the emotion off. he watches you for a second, then gets up, walking over.

leaning against the counter next to you, close but not too close, he breaks the silence again.

“it’s fine, y’know.”

you mutter out a small “no, it’s fuckin’ not.”

“yeah, it is. you live here, don’t you?”

you sniff again, looking down at the counter. richie reaches past you and grabs the roll of paper towels, tearing one off and handing it to you. you take it, still not looking at him, dabbing your face.

the man next to you clears his throat. “you wanna talk about it or what?”

you swallow, staring at the sink. your voice is small when you speak.

“…don’t know.”

richie nods, like that’s a perfectly fine answer. he doesn’t push. instead, he nudges your arm lightly, pulling a shitty little joke out of his pocket.

“just don’t go getting snot all over my counter, alright? i keep this place immaculate.”

an actual laugh escapes you—quiet, but real. you shake your head again, eyes still wet, but there’s something lighter in your face. he smirks, nudging you again. “that’s better.”

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds. then, richie pushes off the counter and grabs another beer from the fridge.

he holds it up toward you in question.

“beer?”

you exhales and nod.

“yeah.”

he tosses it to you. you catch it, finally looking at him. he just shrugs, like this never happened. you pop the cap and take a sip.

then you go back to the couch, richie flipping the channels like normal. like it’s just another night.

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the apartment - november, 2022

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it starts small. at first, it’s just convenience. you’re on your laptop in the living room, but richie’s watching something loud and stupid on tv. so you roll your eyes, pick up your laptop, and disappear into your room.

no big deal, right?

then, one night, richie’s door is open, and he’s lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone. you pass by, stop, and lean in the doorway.

“what are you doing?”

he doesn’t bother looking up. “bein’ fucking awesome, obviously.”

“mm. looks like you’re laying there like a loser.”

he scoffs, still not looking up. he scoots over slightly, making just enough space on the bed without actually saying anything. you don’t hesitate—you flop down next to him, on your stomach, scrolling through your own phone.

you don’t talk, just sit there in comfortable silence. blue light bouncing off your faves.

a few days later, richie’s walking past your room, and your door is cracked open. you’re lying on your side, curled up, watching something on your computer.

he stops. “what’s this?”

“a fucking movie, richard.”

he grumbles at your reaction. “no shit. what’s it about?”

“it’s french. you wouldn’t get it.”

richie pretends to be offended, letting his jaw drop. “‘scuse the fuck outta me?”

you smile, but then—you scoots over a little, thinking of when he did the same before. just a little. an unspoken offer. your roommate leans against the doorframe for a second, then shrugs and walks in, falling onto the bed next to you.

“alright, let’s see what kinda pretentious shit you’re into.”

then it just becomes a thing. you don’t say anything about it, but richie’s room stops being just richie’s room. yours stops being just yours. there’s no boundaries anymore—not in a weird way, just in a roommate way. in a ‘we live together and we’re comfortable way.’

you’ll be half-asleep in your bed, and richie’ll walk in and steal one of your hoodies off the chair like it belongs to him.

richie’ll be laying in his bed and you’ll wander in, sit on the floor, and scroll through your phone without saying anything.

neither of you question it anymore.

one night in particular, richie’s lying in bed, doing god knows what, and you walk in without knocking. you’ve got a beer in your hand and toss it to him without looking.

he catches it and cracks it open.

“you’re gettin’ real comfortable in my room, lady.”

not knowing what to say, you shrug, flopping down next to him. “yeah, well. It’s better than mine.”

he gives you a look, taking a sip of his beer. “your room is the exact same as this one.”

“yours has better vibes.”

he snorts. “oh, fuck off.”

you laugh, nudging him with your knee. richie rolls his eyes but smirks. you sit there, drinking in silence, the radio playing some dumb late-night talk-show in the background. and it’s fine.

neither of you say it, but—it’s kinda nice, not feeling alone all the time.

————————————————————————

the beef - february, 2023

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it’s a slow part of the day, that weird in-between where nothing really happens. you’re leaning against the lockers, sipping a coke, and richie’s bullshitting about something stupid.

sugar enters from the office, she had been around a lot lately because carmy was trying to convince her to renovate ‘the beef’ into… you didn’t even want to know.

her eyes eventually land on the two of you as she greets you both with a smile. “wow. you two are really attached at the hip these days, huh?”

you snorts, taking another sip of your coke.

richie just raises an eyebrow. “what the fuck does that mean?”

sugar sends you a knowing look.

“it means every time i come in here, you two are either flirting, arguing, or just—existing in the same place. it’s kinda strange.”

you angle your head away from richie to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “thank you, natalie.

she eyes you both, unimpressed. then, she crosses her arms and tilts her head slightly.

“i’m just saying. it’s kinda funny. you guys live together, you work together—.”

richie interjects. “oh my god, is there a point to this?”

sugar only laughs.

i mean, it’s cute guys. like a little old married couple. mikey would prob—,”

you and richie both react at the same time.

“what the fuck—,”

“shut the fuck up.”

tina laughs from somewhere in the kitchen, obviously enjoying the show. sugar just smiles, like she’s oblivious to what she’s doing.

“i think it’s sweet, you guys! you take care of each other.”

richie scoffs, but he doesn’t have a real comeback. he just shifts on his feet and mutters “yeah, well, fuck off.”

she raises her hands in surrender, still smiling innocently, and walks off. you shake your head, downing the last of your drink before setting the can down with a clink. you look over at richie, who’s still scowling like he’s been personally insulted.

“you’re being so weird right now.”

“you’re being so weird right now.” he retorts, like a six-year old.

you roll your eyes, but there’s something in richie’s face—just for a second, something small and unspoken. neither of you acknowledge it.

instead, you nudge him with your elbow and walk off, and he watches you go for half a second longer than he should.

————————————————————————

the apartment - march, 2023

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the soft glow of the lamp lights the room, casting a warm, intimate glow. you’re lying on your back, the blankets scattered around you. richie is beside you, propped up on one arm, his other hand resting casually on the bed.

you two of you talk, but your words are light, almost nonsensical—just enjoying the simplicity of the conversation.

your faces are close, so close that it feels natural to hear each other’s breath and feel the warmth between them.

you laugh softly, pulling a drag from your cigarette and handing it back over.

“do you think… if we had an actual pet, we’d be good at taking care of it?”

richie chuckles, amused by the randomness of the question. “like a goldfish?”

“yeah, like a goldfish. what if we killed it by accident? i feel like we’d be those people who forget to feed it and then, like, find it floating in the tank.”

he laughs, his eyes sparkling with humour. “i dunno, i think we’d be fine. i mean, i could always blame you. you’re the one who’d forget.”

you playfully swat at him, but you’re smiling, your eyes soft and full of affection.

“right, blame me, huh? we both know i’m probably the responsible one between the two of us.”

richie pulls a very serious face, his lips fighting the urge to curve into a smile. “oh yeah? well, last time i checked, i was the one who made sure we had food last night.”

“pizza doesn’t count as ‘responsibility,’ rich.”

he smirks, and just then you realise how his face is only inches from yours.

“hey, that was a survival tactic. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

you’re quiet for a moment, the air between you comfortable.

turning your head just slightly, you meet his eyes with a softness that says more than words ever could. richie’s face softens, too. there’s a brief beat of complete silence before he leans in, his nose brushing against yours lightly.

“is this the part where we get all deep and talk about our feelings or…?”

you laugh nervously at his words.

————————————————————————

💌

#richie j.#amazing amazing amazing vibes all round #can tell it was third person before you switched it to second person tho lol #amazing storyline #super canon #like realistic to the source material #would love more richie x reader interacting with the rest of the gang #that bit with sugar was hilarious #been waiting for good quality richie shit around here #hes slept on fr

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