#then finally trash talking of your own friends LOUDLY w/out a hint of shame with a passenger(me) right next to you

[famouslysleepy]

me @ my sister

i know her sense of self-awareness is below the dirt, but my god she really is that fucking shitty.

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Chapter 3: The Girl at the Rock Show

word count: 2,048

Warnings: sight mention of abuse

Summary: Ransom goes to a concert with you.

A/n: Wow, I'm so sorry this took so long to write, I had a lot of stuff going on within the last 2-3 weeks, but im getting back into the groove of writing. Thank you all for understanding and supporting me. 💖 (does this spacing look weird to you? Let me know.)

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You've been fighting with yourself all week over whether to confront Clarissa, you knew getting into someone's relationship would cause problems, but you couldn't just let what you heard go. You sat in the library at campus, zoning out from the laptop you were looking at, you finally started to get to know Ransom, you would even probably call him your friend. 

You were snapped back into reality as Ransom snapped his fingers in front of your face, "You must be really focused," he laughed, sitting across from you, "what are you working on?"

"A little research paper before we're out for winter break." You said, going back to typing, "don't you have a paper to work on?"

"I'm done already," he smirked, you noticed he was wearing one of his white sweaters today, his right cheek was a little flushed, your heart sank, wondering if Clarissa hit him again. "you have any plans for winter break?" 

"I'm going to a concert tonight, that's really it, work and go home," you said, "hey does-"

"A concert? With one of those bands you like? Can I come?" His blue eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Really? You?" You tried to hold a laugh, "you wanna go to a concert? It might be too much for your rich ass." 

"How bad can it be? Clarissa is going on a trip with some girls from the cheer team and I got nothing but free time." 

Your jaw clenched at her name but you remained calm, you could ask him later.

"Alright, you wanna go? Then meet me at my house at 6," You wrote down your address and cell phone number and handed it to him, "and I wouldn't wear that, it'd be a shame to see that sweater ruined." 

Walking across the field to your car, you passed by the cheerleaders, all who were chatting with Clarissa. You did your best to ignore the loud talking amongst them but you turned your head when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n! Hey!" Clarissa was running over to you, dressed in the university's sweat suit, "sorry for the short talk yesterday, maybe we started off wrong." 

You looked into her baby blue eyes, knowing damn well that was a lie. 

"Yeah, I think we did too."

"We should try to get to know each other, do you wanna come hang out with me and the squad?" 

You rather pull your eyelashes out, but maybe you could try to get to know her. 

"Ah, yeah, sure." You smiled and followed her over to the circle of girls, you were introduced to each one and they all seemed rather nice. They mainly talked about their classes, some were even in the same majors as you. They also talked about their upcoming trip, they were using one of the girl's parent's vacation house by a lake, it honestly sounded fun, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something bad, most likely Clarissa was burning holes into you under that preppy demeanor. 

Clarissa checked her phone and smiled, "I got a few things to finish before we leave tonight," she said, breaking away from the group, "but I'll see you all later."

The girls waved their byes and you took the chance to leave too, some shook your hand while others hugged you, it felt a little strange but you happily gave them hugs back. On the way to your car, you caught a glimpse of Ransom and Clarissa talking from across the campus. A cold shiver ran down your spine and alarms were going off in your head, you should check on him, to make sure he doesn't get hurt. But it wasn't your place to do that, taking a deep breath, you unlocked your car and drove home, you sworn you could have seen Ransom looking right at you. 

It was almost four thirty when you arrived back at home, the little two story house was simple and modern, grey with red window panes. Your father brought it when you were still just a baby, but worked on it over time. You took off your bag and coat, leaving your boots by the door, your mother came around the corner from the bedroom and greeted you.

"Long day today?" She asked, you mother was smart and kind, but she also didn't mess around when it came to family or her patients. 

"Yeah, but you know I'm going to that concert tonight, right?" 

Her brows furrowed, "It's going to snow tonight, anyone going with you?" 

"A friend from college, he begged me to come so he's gonna drive us." You walked into the kitchen and sat your stuff down to look through the fridge for leftovers from last night.

"Your dad ate the leftovers," you groaned and closed the fridge in defeat, opting to make instant noodles instead, "that has a lot of sodium you know? And your friend, can he drive in the snow?"

"Yes, mom, we'll be fine, worse case scenario is that I have to stay with him, and he's right in town." 

Your mother, still hesitant on letting you go, rubbed your back, "I trust you enough, I've seen it everytime you go to those crazy concerts, you are careful and mature, just be extra careful tonight."

"I will."

You were getting changed when your mother called you from the bottom of the stairs,"Y/n! There's a young man down here to see you, he's very handsome, his name is Ransom, where did you find him?" 

You groaned loudly in annoyance, the down side was that your mother could be really embarrassed, on purpose. You grabbed a jacket and huffed down the stairs, seeing Ransom in your living room, he wore a black long sleeved shirt that hugged his arms and black jeans, it was definitely a shock to see him in darker colors. 

"I found him in the trash at school, he looked like he needed a home,"  You joked with you mom, Ransom felt the burn from that comment but still held a smile on his face. "You look like you're about to go commit a crime." 

"There was that one time in high school with the principal's car." Ransom laughed. 

"Well, one person's trash is another's treasure, don't let me hold you two back, just be safe, and try to stay out of trouble." Your mom winked at the both of you before going back to her room.

You grabbed your keys and opened the front door, "let's get going, traffic is going to be a bitch." 

The car ride with Ransom was going well, traffic would happen in certain parts but he made sure that the both of had something to talk about. By the time you arrived to the venue, snowflakes began to fall, you cursed your mom for being right all the time. 

"Hopefully this snow won't be too bad on the way back," Ransom said, "you never told me who we were seeing."

"Dreams of Demise," you smiled, "they're band is from a small town but they're really good." 

His eyebrows raised a little, "Holy shit, they sound a little intense." He laughed, opening the door to a large room filled with people and loud metal music playing, Ransom's eyes went wide, taking in everything around him.

You started laughing at his expression, "yeah, it's a little intense, you gonna be ok? You look like you're gonna piss yourself." 

"I'll be fine, just gotta break in to this a little more." He said as you both made your way through the crowd to the stage, the band was starting to set up to play and the room was buzzing with excitement.

"Trust me, you'll either break in or be broken, just hope you can handle it." You smiled at him, watching his eyes light up with the same excitement. 

"Well, I'm fucking ready to enjoy this."

You and Ransom walk out of the concert right when it was over, the snow had gotten heavier, more than a inches on the ground but it didn't stop the adrenaline that you both felt.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" Ransom cheered as he ran out into the night, almost slipping on an ice patch. His hair, no longer in the posh pretty boy style, he looked disheveled and wild, it was a good look on him, at this point, he could make a potato sack look good. 

"And you didn't die, I knew you could do it," You laughed, getting in the car, "and you even got yourself into a mosh pit, I'm proud, baby's first mosh." 

"I want to go to another one, I know some of the bands you like,I could pay for us to go to another one." He turned on the car and dusted the snow off the windshield.

"Maybe, you don't have to pay, I make it by just fine." 

The roads were clear of any cars as Ransom drove, the temperature dropped below freezing and he did his best to not slide on any black ice. About a half hour into the drive, you notice the road was blocked going towards your house, you both groaned, knowing that would add an extra hour to the trip back. 

"Hey, this snow is getting worse, I don't live that far from here, it might be safe just to stay with me until some of this clears in the morning." Ransom said, pulling over to the side of the road, "If you're ok with that."

"There's no other choice right? I don't want you risking your life to get me home, if you're closer, then I'll stay." You were feeling slightly uncomfortable as you thought about staying the night with Ransom, you knew he lived on his own, you both started a friendship so it would be alright, right? Your stomach fluttered as you sighed.

"SLEEPOVER!" He yelled in the all too quiet car, scaring you back into reality.

"WHAT THE FUCK RANSOM?!" you went to smack his arm but stopped yourself when you saw the smallest flinch, he was pressed against the driver door, that hint of fear in his eyes shown for a brief moment.

"I just haven't had anyone sleep over in a while," he chuckled, "it'll be fun, I got food!" 

You nodded, placing your hand on his shoulder, "then let's get going." 

Ransom's house looked as you expected it to be, fancy, modern and simple. He pulled into the long driveway and into the garage, "it might be a little cold in here, I like it like that." He lead you up into the living room, hardwood floors with a fluffy rug that definitely was from an animal. You stood awkwardly in the threshold of the kitchen and living while you watch him move about. 

"The bedrooms are upstairs," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the stairs, you followed him up the spiraling staircase until you reached the top, grey carpet was all throughout the upstairs, even in your boots you knew the material was something you couldn't even afford a square foot of. "This is gonna be your room tonight." He opened a door and flipped the lights on, the bed was a queen with grey wooden pillars, simple pillows and blankets laid neatly on it.

"Wow, you actually keep it clean in here." You laughed

"I have a cleaning lady come over every other day, she makes it look like I don't even use my bedroom," He laughed before showing you the bathroom, "and here's the bathroom, you can take a shower whenever, just be careful not to slip." Ransom walked into another room that you assumed was his, you waited by the door, taking peaks in. He came back out with clothing in his arms, "these might be a little big on you, but it's better than sleeping in concert clothes." 

You took the clothes and smiled, "Thanks Ransom, you didn't have to do all this for me." 

"That's what friends are for," he said, his eyes softly looking at you, you gave a strong yawn and wiped your eyes, "you should get some rest Y/n." 

"I am," you walked over to the guest room and waved, "goodnight Ransom." 

"Goodnight Y/n."

[creativitymouth]

The World Forgetting by The World Forgotten Pt.3

A/N - A big thank you to all of the amazing writers on Tumblr who helped me get my story out there to begin with. @asthmaticeddie @apartofthelosersclub @firstfannypack @mikoalabearwrites @justauthoring If you haven’t checked out their stories please do so because it’s what gave me the courage to put my work out there in the first place. 

Summary: Adolescence is kicking (Y/N) in the ass and she isn’t sure if she’s winning. SlowBurn!RichieTozierxFemale!Reader. 

Trigger Warning: Depressive Themes and Sexual Assault. Cursing because of Trashmouth Tozier.

9th grade has many sexual assault mentions, if you are uncomfortable reading this please skip ahead. 

Chapter 3

8th Grade - 1986

It had been 2 years, and Richie Tozier had just begun to realize his crush on you was possibly never going to go away. He had finally told all the guys about it on one of those days you randomly disappeared, but they all just shrugged him off. They had been sitting around in Bills place, wondering where their favorite girl had been when they stopped by her house earlier. When suddenly Richie found that he couldn’t keep his mouth closed, per usual.

“I think I like (Y/N).” He blurted out, everyone stared at him open mouthed. What had he just said? Impossible. No one said anything for a stretch of awkward seconds as they just gaped a Tozier. This was the guy with a new crush every week, so he couldn’t be serious.

“Trashmouth Tozier? With feelings for our pure little (Y/N), no fucking way man you’re joking.” Stan had said.

“Yeah R-Rich, you gu-guys are polar opposites.” Bill cut in. “It’ll g-go away eventually. L-like every other crush you-you-you’ve had.”

“Remember in 4th grade when Eddie had feelings for (Y/N) for like a month?” Stan said. “He had lied to (Y/N) and told her you almost killed him at the arcade, just so he could give her his back up aspirator.” Richie’s eyes narrowed slightly at Eddie, he had already known this information but hearing it now felt like a stab in the chest. He was the first person he told back in 6th grade about what seemed like a fatal crush.

“Hey!” Eddie yelled. “Way to fucking blow my spot man!”

“W-we’ve all t-thought that at some point.” Bill stated. “When we f-first met her in 2nd gr-gr-grade I swore I was going to m-marry her.” He shuddered at the thought of his 2nd grade self-proposing to (Y/N) on the swings. You had very kindly declined him, still boring that faint New York accent.

“Yeah, she’s like the only girl who talks to us, and she’s really pretty.” The guys nodded in agreement there was no shame in admitting you had a nice face. “I liked her in 5th grade for 3 months, even brought her Hydrangeas every day for a week.” Eddie and Bill laughed at the face Stan made, having feelings for you now only seemed disturbing. Though they had all, at some point, considered a relationship with you, you eventually crossed the line from potential love interest to sister like best friend. “I know you remember that Richie, you gave me pointers on how to get her to like me back.” Richie attempted a cocky smirk, though he felt disgust bubbling in his stomach. They had all gotten rid of there feelings for (Y/N) but Richie’s wasn’t fading. Not after 2 years and he feared not ever.

“You’re right, Richie Tozier doesn’t settle for just one bitch. He needs multiple chances to get it in.” Richie said causing the guys to groan. The truth was he just wanted to change the subject. Eddie was the only one who may have believed Richie. He had told him the same thing 2 years ago, why would he keep up this charade for 2 years? Was it possible that Tozier was in love?

So now, Richie found himself staring at you as you walked out of class to go to the bathroom. He wanted nothing more than to be able to forget these weird feelings.

-----------------

You walked into the bathroom, having just needed fresh air. The school dance was in a couple of weeks and Kyle hadn’t asked you yet. You’d both been players in this weird love game for 2 years, and it was beginning to frustrate you. Did Kyle want a relationship with you, or did he want arms candy? Or maybe Richie was right, and Kyle just wanted to “get in your pants”. You sighed trying to calm your overactive thoughts. You had always been a jittery child but in recent years things seemed to be getting worse. The fake smiles were harder to keep up, and your time management was severely lacking.

“Are you in there by yourself Beaver-ly.” A voice rung out, causing your stomach to drop. Greta Bowie had certainly developed a colorful vocabulary in the last couple of years. “Or do you have half the guys in the school with you, huh slut?” You half expected to see Greta’s shoes beneath your own stall, so when you saw her a couple of stalls down to say you were relieved was an understatement. “I know you’re in there you little shit, I can smell you.” You winced for the person I few stalls down. “No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“Which is it, Greta?” A voice responded with strength. You recognized it as Beverly Marsh, Williams crush since the 3rd grade. He even had some pictures he drew of her, you insisted he pursue art school, but he always denied you. “Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind.”

“You’re trash.” Beverly didn’t respond. You peered out the crack in the stall door, watching as a girl in Greta’s posy struggled her way over to the garbage can.

“Shit.” You said under your breath. This was a do or die situation, so obviously you being you, you picked die. Richie always complained that you had a super-hero complex. You placed your bag on the floor dropping onto your hands and knees and praying that you would make it to Beverly before the garbage did. You made it to her stall and peered up at her, putting a finger to your mouth. She held a tray of food in her lap, and stared at you peculiarly. You waved at her to follow you. She shrugged, obviously willing to try anything, before dropping on her hands and knees in a similar fashion as to what you had done. She followed you back to the stall you’d come too. “Sit on my lap.” You mouthed. She raised her eyebrows a smile playing at her face. You slapped your hands down onto your lap playfully. She sat down with a shake of her head, and you guys listened carefully as you heard Greta struggle to lift the garbage can.

At least buy me dinner first. You heard Richie’s voice in your head and couldn't help but silently laugh. Beverly looked back at you when your shoulders started to shake with laughter. She put her finger on her mouth, taunting your previous action. You smiled widely at her. Suddenly the sound of garbage could be heard falling harshly onto the ground in the stall where Beverly had just come from.

“That Bitch!” You heard Greta scream. “Find her, kick all the stall doors open.” You and Bev shared a wild look as the sound of stall doors began to slam. Beverly seemed slightly entertained by this turn of events.

“Now we run.” You stated. Beverly jumped off your lap, taking your hand in hers before swinging the stall door open and running out.

“Get them!” Greta hissed loudly as she stomped her foot. You had always known Greta to have a temper issue and a smart-ass mouth but had never before seen her physically rough house someone. You guys didn’t stop running, the bookbag you had on slamming into the small of your back roughly.

“This is a great first impression!” You yelled to Beverly sarcastically. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m known for those.” She responded, smiling even though you were both going to run out of breath soon. Greta, though wearing those same sparkly red flats (only now in a different size), was surprisingly fast.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Eddie yell from next to Rich’s locker. You didn’t have to look to know all the boys were looking at you strangely. They had probably come inside looking for you after the final bell had rung and you didn’t meet them at the bike rack.

“Not now! Busy running!” You yelled back as you passed them “Code brown!” Meet at Bill's house. You could hear the boys sputter in confusion, you weren’t one for trouble, at least not without them around. Stan was the first one to see Greta Bowie and her crew chasing after you and Beverly Marsh. He nudged Bill, who nudged Eddie, who then nudged Richie.

“Oh, fucking shit, what now?” Richie said with agitation. “How much do you guys wanna bet she was playing fucking super hero again.” The boys all shook their heads before following you. You’d made it to your bike in record time, and with a spare glance could see that you had maybe 30 seconds before Greta caught up.

“Get on, get on, get on.” You said hurriedly to Beverly.

“I have a bike.”

‘We don’t have I have a bike time!” Beverly made a noise of displeasure before jumping on behind you. You had never been on the receiving end of pedaling with another person. The boys often had you on the back of their bikes when you were too lazy to ride your own. Well after this experience you didn’t think you’d be doing that again. It was significantly harder to pedal with two people on a one-person bike. Despite that, you didn’t stop. Beverly kept her hands tightly gripped onto your shoulders. “You’re going to fall like that, you can put them around my waist. I’m not gonna bite.”

“You’re weird.” Beverly said before wrapping her arms around you. Her tone didn’t have any maliciousness behind it, she was just stating a fact.

“Exceptionally.” You responded. It was the first time someone had called you that, but you knew it wasn’t your fault. It was those boys and their terrible influence on your innocence. Hint, it was just Trashmouth.

“I like that.” She said smiling again. You didn’t know what it was about Beverly Marsh, but you liked her. You hadn’t known much about her besides that William had a long-standing crush on her that he couldn’t seem to shake, but after the short and terrible first impression you decided she was someone you wanted to keep around. For a while. You didn’t know much about other females, except your mom and Greta Bowie, but you figured that you and Bev would get along greatly.

After about 15 minutes of pedaling in the direction to Bill's house Greta had given up her chase. You knew it wasn't over, as it never was with Bowie. You slowed to a more paced pedal, and felt more comfortable, Beverly took her hands from around your waist, no longer afraid of falling.

“You can drop me off here.” She said suddenly. You quirked an eyebrow, knowing she was trying to run away from making more conversation.

“You know,” you begin “I’m on my way to hang out with my friends, and I’d think it’d be really cool if you could join us.” You smiled widely, your signature.

“I don’t know, I gotta get home before my dad.” She said, though it was more to herself then to you. “Maybe another time.” She said as you pulled your bike to a stop at the curb. She began to get off and walk away when you called out her name.

“Why don’t we go see the Breakfast Club, they’re doing a midnight re-showing at the dollar theatre.” She laughed loudly.

“Is it because I look like Molly Ringwald?” You shrug in response, still smiling at her. “Okay, fine. I’ll meet you there at 4 tomorrow.”

“Great! Bye Bevy!” She waved bye at you shaking her head slightly. The interaction was the weirdest, yet best one she had experienced in her 13 years of life. After watching her walk away, you left for Bill's house determined to make the boys help you get Stanley to study his torah.  

-------

After the movie, you and Beverly Marsh were joined at the hip. The boys had come to accept that she was in fact, your best friend. Though she always persisted that she didn’t want to meet them yet, because she didn’t trust men it didn’t stop you from bragging about them. She argued that Richie liked you, and the thought made your heart jump, but you couldn’t place why. After all, you were Kyle Henderson's on again off again girlfriend. When she started smoking you were always there to reprimand her and try to hit the cigarette out her hand, but Bev was stronger and taller than you. Though you never gave up trying, you were also never successful. A few weeks before the dance, Beverly had finally opened to you about her father. She’d come to your house crying, falling into your arms with her hair cut short.

“It’s like he doesn’t know I’m his daughter, he sees me and sees some kind of s-sex object.” She cried as you pet her hair down. “He was always grabbing me by my hair and I - I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I cut it all off.” You nodded solemnly, finding yourself at a loss for words like when you had that talk with Mike. “I hate living there.”

“Hey,” you said gently still petting her head that was laying on your shoulder “why don’t you stay here for a while my parents won’t be back for two weeks. We can go to the dance together next week, I mean Kyle asked me to be his date finally but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.” She looked at you now, wiping at her face.

“You sure?”

“Of course!”

“You won’t make me wear a frilly dress, right?” You laughed out loud at this, the thought had crossed your mind, but you knew Beverly would never go for it. She was a rock of stubbornness.

“Okay, no frilly dress.” You held up your pinky for her to take in her own. “I also have an idea for my hair, and I need your help.”

“What?” She asked you hesitantly. You looked down at your hair, smiling softly at the idea.

“We cut it.”

----------------------

Richie Tozier had his head in his hands in frustration, the dance had come far quicker than he wanted it to. He’d never wanted anything more than for you to be happy, but he started wishing that happiness was with him. When you called him, exclaiming that Kyle had finally asked you to the dance he spoke as though it was the greatest thing to ever happen, but he was just hurt. He had told himself that if Kyle didn’t ask you 4 days before the dance that he would ask you himself. Of course, Kyle did end up asking you and Richie hated himself for not making a move faster.

“That’s great (Y/N), just tell the man to use a condom.” Richie had said over the phone.

“Beep Beep, Richie.”

You talked to him for hours, told him about how Bev was going too and how happy you were. You even persuaded him to go, calling him your favorite loser and saying that you needed to see him there. He eventually caved, he couldn’t ever say no to you. But now he was wishing he had. You were slow dancing with Kyle, his arms around your waist and your head on his shoulder and it was making Richie feel sick. He thought about the way his heart reacted when you’d first cut your hair, he felt like he was able to see your face more and boy did that put him into cardiac arrest. When you’d caught him staring he ruffled your hair and told you it didn’t look to bad.

“Tozier.” A soft feminine voice said from above him. He grunted in response wanting to be left alone. “Tozier.” The voice said again, kicking him slightly.

“What the fuck do you want?” He snapped looking up. Beverly sat down next to him with a smug expression on her face.

“So, you like (Y/N) huh.” She smirked devilishly.

“W-what?” Richie was blinking rapidly as his stomach sunk. This was not a conversation he wanted to be having, and especially not with your best friend.

“You took one look at her and turned into a bright red tomato.” She laughed. “Then, when you saw her with Kyle, you turned green. So, either you like her, or you’re secretly a chameleon.” Richie grunted, leaning back on his elbows.

“Why does it matter anyway?”

“Why don’t you tell her?”

“Because she doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Let me tell you something Tozier.” Beverly's expression was suddenly serious. “That girl doesn’t understand her own feelings.” Bev shook her head. “She talks about you more than the rest of the losers. Fuck, I know your favorite color and the exact number of freckles on your face.” She chuckled softly. “She’s afraid you know.”

“Of what?”

“Losing.” She stated simply “She feels inadequate, she doesn’t talk about it and she hid it really well, but if you look at her long enough you can see the cracks in the mask.” Richie didn’t respond, just watching you intently now. You seemed to be arguing with Kyle. “I think, she thinks that if she lets herself feel, she’ll fall apart.” Beverly frowned, she knew you well enough by now. Richie and Beverly suddenly quieted down, both just watching as you and Kyle seemed to bicker, but both also just lost in their own heads. Were you okay?

-----------------

“What?” You said pulling back from Kyles shoulder. His hands stayed on your waist. “What did you fucking say?”

“I said your friend Eddie is a snack sized bitch.” Your eyes grew to the size of the moon as you ripped yourself from Kyle’s grasp.

“How fucking dare, you!” Your hands came down roughly at your sides which caused Kyle to chuckle.

“Calm down babe.” He reached out for you, but you slapped his hand away. “Oh please, like you haven’t noticed the way he ogles other men, how though he’s 13 now he still hasn’t grown?” Your heart began to beat faster, your hands clammy, as you stared at Kyle. “You’re telling me you’re oblivious to the fact that your friend is a faggot?” You gasped at his use of the crude term. “You’re just pretending not to notice.”

“Yeah, like I pretended to be oblivious to your shrimp dick.” You growled. Kyle laughed bitterly. This was not how you wanted the dance to go, it had started so sweetly. You loved the dress you were in, you loved the way your hair looked at this length, and you had swooned when Kyle gave you a corset. Though you did rip off a flower to stick into Bev’s hair. When you got to the dance, you even got Bill and Bev to dance together for a while. Richie, had for the most part stuck off to the side, but you assumed it was because this wasn’t his scene. Everything had been going perfectly. Now, well, now it was ruined.

“Yeah, bet your friend likes my shrimp dick up his -” You didn’t give Kyle a chance to finish, your knee came up and slammed into his groin. You hadn’t pulled that one since 6th grade with Henry Bowers. Kyle doubled over with a grunt, his hand clutched tightly around himself. You moved to the side snatching a cup of punch from some girl’s hand, she shouted a soft hey, but you were too angry to notice her. You poured the liquid over Kyle's head, leaning down near his ear.

“If you ever say a word, about Eddie Kaspbrak, or any of the losers for that matter. I will rip your fucking head of Henderson.” You dropped the cup on the floor, before storming away. A small crowd had gathered, and you pushed yourself through not stopping until the boys and Bev all surrounded you.

“(Y/N)!” Stan yelled.

“Did he h-hurt you?”

“If he did, I swear to god.” Richie began.

“No.” You protested shaking your head.

“Then what happened (Y/N)?” Eddie asked you.

“He insulted you, said some pretty fucked up stuff.” Eyebrows knitted together, the losers club were used to being the butt of others peoples jokes. Stan was Jewish, Bill had a stutter, Richie talked to much, and Eddie was too short. People saying mean things about them was normal, yet still you always seemed to jump into action. Even if it was the guy you have liked for 2 years. “I wasn’t just gonna let him talk about Eddie that way.” The boys all looked at you in shock as Beverly smirked at you. That’s my girl, she thought. It was then Richie had known that his crush, wasn’t just a crush. Hearing you say you caused a man not to be able to have kids, all in defense of Eddie. Well that put things in perspective for him. Richie Tozier was in love with you. “No one’s going to talk about any of you badly if I’m around for it.” You took a deep breathe scanning the boys before your eyes settled on Richie. The crowd had scattered at this point, tired by the unfulfilling drama. You grabbed Richie's hand now, missing how he flushed. “Dance with me?”

“Uh,” He stuttered, and you were again oblivious to the way Beverly nudged him in the side. “Hell yeah.” He said. You smiled and pulled him away from the rest of the guys. You guys danced for what felt like hours, hips moving, voices screaming to try to match the music. You even had a couple of awkward slow dances. “Hey,” Richie said in the middle of one of those awkward dances, “it was fucking awesome of you defend Eds like that.”

“Duh, you’re my boys. Anyone with a problem with one of you has a problem with me.” You smiled at him causing his breath to catch in his throat. As you slowly moved side to side to the music, Richie found himself lost in your eyes.

“You look really beautiful.” He said suddenly. You blinked repeatedly, your smile falling as your heart sputtered.

“Oh, uh,” you pushed a hair behind your ear blushing profusely. No one had ever called you that before. “Thank you Rich.” You looked at him. Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he seemed to be considering something. “Rich?” You called him, he looked like he was going to lean in. Maybe connect your lips with his. Your brain reeled, what was happening?

“Guys!” Stan suddenly called, and you and Richie practically jumped apart. “Let's go, Eddie’s mom wants him home at a certain time.”

“Coming!” You yelled back, now noticing how close you and Rich were. Feeling the way, he had both of his hands on your waist, noticing the way yours were on his shoulders. How close his face had been to yours? You looked back at him, chewing on your bottom lip before moving away. He stood there for a moment with confusion. He couldn’t believe he was going to try to kiss you, in the middle of a school dance. It would have been the worst place to get rejected. You stopped walking when you noticed Richie wasn’t behind you. You turned around flashing him your wide smile. “Hurry up Tozier.”

“Y-Yeah!” He announced following behind you.

9th Grade - 1987

9th grade was the year of discoveries. It was when you had decided to make a change in your identity, figure out who you were under the colorful oversized sweaters (that could fit a truck in them) and the patterned leggings. You’d swapped them out, put all your old clothes in a bin under your bed and convinced your mother to take you with her shopping. You’d picked out brave pieces, striped crop tops and solid skirts with the occasional legging that you couldn’t turn down. You stopped attempting to maintain your unruly hair and let it do as it pleased, after all it was the 80s. The losers had changed too however; Eddie now dressed like Duckie from Pretty in Pink excluding the fanny pack that he would never take off, Stan stopped tucking in his button-down shirts while sporting vests and opened blazers, William had adorned denim jackets with patches he’d collect from local stores and never took off his off-white reeboks, and Richie Tozier well no one really expected such a drastic change from their favorite Trashmouth. Richie had begun experimenting with leather jackets and band t-shirts with his black Chuck Taylors, his curly hair now simply untamed. The only thing that remained the same was his glasses, and that’s because he spent so much money on clothes that he couldn’t afford contacts. Beverly, much like Richie adorned darker colors though she had never been a fan of bright things. Michael had changed as well, now sporting large printed sweaters and dark jeans. The Losers were still The Losers but they had a much better taste in fashion then in Middle School.

You attributed all these changes to why this had happened to you.

The navy skirt and long-sleeved crop top were a curse. My insistence to grow up and show flesh was my own demise. That’s what you whispered in your head as you teetered on your feet down the driveway to the Synagogue where you knew Stan would be. Your jellies were cracked on the side, and your hair had branches sticking out of it, your mind whirling as you stumbled over yourself.

Skirts are for girls who want it.

Crop tops are for girls who want me.

The words echoed in your head like a curse as you pushed open the doors to the Synagogue, still staring blindly ahead of you.

“Do you want me (Y/N)?” Henry asked as he walked closer to you. This had been the back and forth for the last 10 minutes, Henry following you and insisting you be with him. Commenting on your figure and appearance, making you feel gross. You scratched at your skin as if you could escape it.

“No.” You growled out attempting to shove him as he now stood in front of you, he grabbed your wrist at your feeble attempt.

“Yes.” He responded, his eyes gleaming with sin.

“I said no you fucking asshole.” You yanked back, trying to free yourself from the terrible primal look in Henry's eyes.  

“That’s not what I heard.” He nodded shortly looking behind him for less than a second before two other sets of hands were on you and pushing you down to the floor of the woods. You struggled in their grasps.

“Let go of me!” You had kicked and screamed and yelled. The boys were much stronger than you.  “I said get off of me you fucking pigs, this isn’t funny!”

“Who said this was a game.” Your eyes grew large with fear as you watched Henry unbutton his pants, you reached up and scratched one of your assailants in the face. They flinched back, and you moved to run for it.  “Don’t let her go you fucking idiot, hold her down!” Henry yelled at whoever was behind you. Hands came into your hair and yanked you down again. You screeched at the pain as the grips tightened.

“Henry,” someone behind you spoke out, you assumed it was Victor, “you said we were just gonna scare her. This is kind of far man.”

“Did I fucking ask you?” Henry shouted, Victor shook his head and moved to remove his hand from your shoulder. “Move, and I’ll fucking kill you Criss.” Victor froze before putting his hands back onto your shaking figure.

“Let go of me!” You had always hated those damsel in distress kind of girls but now you felt as though you’d pay a heavy price for someone to come and save you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as Henry made his approach. “I don’t want to die.” Victor repeated.

“Shut it Criss, I want a turn after Henry and if you keep talking neither of us will get one.” Patrick said as his hand slithered around your throat to prevent you from thrashing. He stuck his thumb in your mouth and you gagged causing him to chuckle. You continued to thrash but the realization that no one was coming settled heavy on your chest.

“This is so fucked up, I’m so sorry.” Victor said again and that was the last thing you heard as your screaming voice drowned out all the sounds around you.

Stanley had seen you before you had seen him, he was reading his Torah as his dad sat upstairs in his office. Your clothes were tattered, the new patterned shirt you worse close to falling off you, the skirt you had on was clearly backwards and the jellies, that he had early told you were adorable, were barely on your feet. He squinted to try and get a better view of you, and that’s when he noticed the bruises running up and down your skin. His eyebrows spiked up when you hit the ground without complaint. You stared down at your hands, caked with dirt and blood as you were sure the rest of you was. He quickly rushed over to you kneeling as he softly placed his hands on your shoulders. Something was terribly wrong.

“Y/N?” He asked shaking you gently, you didn’t respond your mouth opened in a silent scream. You were sure you tore something in your throat, maybe you’d become a mute.“Y/N what is it?” His heart raced spiked as he saw tears gather in your eyes as you looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

“Will I still go to Hell if it wasn’t my choice?” Stanley didn’t understand at first, his eyes still wide scanning your broken (Y/E/C) ones. “Will God forgive me Stanley?” You asked again, your voice so small and destroyed. It was then Stanley understood, his breath caught in his throat, his mouth run dry. You were asking him if you would be forgiven for having sex before marriage.

“(Y/N).” He whispered like a silent plea. He didn’t want this to happen, especially not to you. Your eyes overflowed with the tears and you took in a shaking breath. You couldn’t take it anymore and just sobbed. Letting the emotions rack your body, the filth you suddenly felt like you were. Stan pulled you into him rubbing your back as you sobbed loudly in the nearly empty church.

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“He did what!” Richie yelled pacing as Stan retold them what you had told him. “I’ll kill him, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Not just him.” Stan whispered glancing back at you, he’d carried you all the way to Bills after contacting the losers seeing that every time you tried to walk you collapsed in on yourself. His back was incredibly sore, but he didn’t mind. You were sitting in the corner of Bill's bed with a large blanket wrapped over your figure. Eddie was sitting next to you as he rummaged through his fanny pack for something. “Hockstetter too.” Stan turned back around to face Billy and Richie. “They,” he paused swallowing looking back at you one more time before taking a deep breath. “They took turns.” Stan whispered so as not to scar you. It had been hard enough getting you to tell him, he didn’t want you to have to hear it from him. Richie inhaled deeply, as something dark churned behind his eyes. Stan had always heard Richie threaten to kill someone and never took it seriously, but now he wasn’t so sure. Eddie visibly stiffened, though he had finally found what he was looking for.

“Open.” He said gently, and you complied, there was no fight left in you. “These are just,” he paused he’d given you plan b’s his mom made him carry around, “for the pain.” He settled on since he didn’t wanna make you more upset. Eddie wrapped an arm around you and softly began to pick branches out of your hair, he normally would have been grossed out, but you seemed to be in so much pain. So, he pushed the thought of germs to the back of his head. He was going to keep searching for more pills he carried, maybe make you take everything he had in his fanny pack.

“He’s dead.” Richie finally settled on. “They’re both dead.” His voice was dark and without humor. He picked up a baseball bat and began tapping on it threateningly. “I know where he lives.”

“Ca-ca-call the c-cops.” Bill said suddenly. “W-we have t-t-to call the f-fucking c-cops.” Though he had been practicing for years, and slowly getting better, at times when Bill felt out of control he stuttered more than usual. You were his family, one of the losers. And when one of you hurt all of you hurt. He looked at you as his mind raced to catch up with his tongue, you seemed so torn apart.

“His dad is the cops.” Stan said with remorse.

“Forget the cops, we have to get her to a hospital.” Eddie was now giving you more pills, ones for pain, and some for illnesses you might contract. He didn’t think he could live with himself if you ended up catching an STD from Patrick or Henry. Lord knows where they had been.

“Hospital? Hospital, fuck out of here. We have to shove his balls so far inside him he’ll be tasting cum for weeks.” Richie was now thumping the bat on the ground roughly. He had never felt so angry in his life, his 14-year-old body brimming with emotion.

“I’m ca-calling t-the c-co-cops.” Bill said making a move to leave for the phone.

“Fine, and I’m gonna go shove this bat up Henry Bowers ass.” Richie said soon, as he began to gather his stuff.

“Stanley,” Eddie spoke, “Help me get her to the hospital.”

That was it, that was all it took, and you were sobbing again. Your hands in your hair pulling at it weakly as you head collapsed onto your knees. These boys cared for you so much, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you, but you couldn’t handle it. All the dotting, and the threats, and you especially didn’t want the cops involved. Cops meant parents and parents were a terrible idea. They would be so infuriated that you tarnished their high-standing posh reputations. Suits and balls were more valuable than their daughter’s dignity. The adults in Derry all had a way of ignoring serious problems.

“(Y/N).” Richie said as he slowly began to make his way over to you after putting the bat down.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The boys all winced, you were apologizing to them for what happened to you. How fucked up. Richie was the first one to wrap his arms around you, thinking maybe he could meld you back together, you leaned into him sobbing some more wishing you could crawl out of your skin. Slowly all the boys followed. You sobbed even harder, and they all felt their eyes sting. They’d never seen you cry before, except for maybe once in 5th grade when you scraped your knee. They all silently vowed, that they would never let this happen to you again. Nothing bad would ever happen to you if they had a say in it.

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From then on each of the boys protect you. When Henry Bowers would show his face, they’d create a small barrier between you and him, taking serious punches for it. Richie even got suspended a couple of times for starting with Bowers for staring at you.

“Don’t fucking look at her.” Richie spat as you both walked in the hallways. Henry ignored the Trashmouth and winked at you. You skinned seemed to turn green as you recoiled, and Richie only grew angrier. He knew that Henry was just antagonizing him, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth. Especially since you had shown fear. “Did you fucking hear me you mullet wearing piece of shit.”

“What? Was your girlfriend telling you about all the pleasure I gave her?” Your grabbed onto Richie's hand as though it was life support. “The way I made her scream.” Your eyes watered at the memory of the hands over your mouth. “How much she squirmed under me.”

“Richie.” You whispered, a desperate plea to run away from Henry Bowers. Richie looked down at you and when he saw the expression on your face that was the last straw for him and he took a swing at Henry. He was only 14, and was still considerably shorter than the 17-year-old Bowers. But in his heated moment of anger Richie was able to hold his own well. After about 10 minutes of fighting and a growing crowd, a teacher finally came to separate the two boys. You saw Richie lean closer to Henry mumbling something before spitting at him. Henry was enraged and tried to make his way back to Richie, but he couldn’t, not with the tight grip around his middle.

“What did you say to him?” You asked Richie once the teacher had let him go. Richie took hold of your hand before turning to you and shrugging with a mischievous smirk on his face. He was sporting a black eye, and his hair was tousled terribly but he still managed that signature smirk.

“Nothing, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He said. Though he thought back on it “Don’t you ever come near my girl again, or I’ll beat your ass worse than your dad already does.” What a badass thing to say.

Richie wasn’t the only one to defend you, even Eddie would step in front of you and get beaten up to the point where his asthma pump was needed. They were all severely disheartened by the change that had overcome you after the incident with Henry. You stopped smiling, didn’t talk as much and always made sure to cover your body no matter the weather. Your usual light was dimmed to the point where they were scared it would be gone forever. They each tried in their own ways to bring you out of it. Bill would draw for you, Eddie would read to you, and Stan would make you come bird watching with him more than usual. Richie almost never left your side and spent a lot of his time researching how to care for Rape Victims. Though they soon realized that this was something you had to come out of on your own. It was a personal battle and they couldn’t pressure you. Throughout all this Beverly was oblivious to whatever was going on, she had asked Richie multiple times why you seemed so different, but he only ever told her to ask you.

“It’s not my place to tell you Beverly, I’m sorry.”

Your relationship with her wasn’t negatively impacted, she was just worried. She’d stayed at your house for a month to try and put some pieces together but the only conclusion she’d come up with was that it was Henry Bowers related and that didn’t help her much. You’d found yourself at Richie’s house whenever Beverly couldn’t sleep over. You were afraid of your dreams and didn’t want to deal alone. So, Rich would tell you stories until he heard you snoring. You’d wake up and he’d have fallen asleep in a chair with his glasses on and his mouth hanging open. Though he couldn’t see it the sight always made you smile. You’d seen the books about rape victims Richie kept around and even though you never brought it up you appreciated it. He was trying to understand what you had gone through and help you build. You eventually begun to heal, though some things wouldn’t change. You burned all your short and showing clothing, now feeling that you were over exposed, and went instead to balloon pants and long sleeve shirts. The jellies, however, stayed.

“I see you're alone baby doll, your boyfriends not here to protect you?” Henry had you cornered against your locker. You tugged down on your sleeves trying to cover your fingers. “Should we have a round 2?” His hand came up to graze your cheek and you slapped it away. “Remember what happens when you fight.” He growled. “I get what I want anyway, and today I feel like sharing again.” Suddenly Henry was pushed away from you and knocked on the ground, you looked to your savior to see Bill standing over Henry. Your mind couldn’t help but ask where he was the day you needed him. Bill grabbed your hand as if to run but you ripped it away, making your way over to the stunned Henry.

“Don’t”, you pushed your foot down onto Henry's groin, “you ever,” you added pressure with each syllable, “touch me without my consent again.” You stomped on him twice. “I don’t need a savior, because I sure as hell will cut your dick off myself.”  You smashed his groin under your foot, before grabbing Bill and leading him away. Bill noted that you had a thing for hitting guys where it hurt and told himself that he would never anger you again

“That’s not the last time you’ll hear from me baby doll!” Henry yelled behind you.

As soon as you exited the building you’d begun to cry again, your face shoved into the front of Bill's shirt as he rubbed you lightly on the back. The adrenaline fading, but this time the crying ended with a small smile. Maybe you’d be okay.

Maybe not. You may have won a battle but inside you were losing a war.

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