Finn Wolfhard Imagines

Richie- Home

You and your boyfriend for 6 great years, got into a big fight. One that seemed irresolvable.

Richie left without saying anything. It took him six months to tell you that it's best if both of you cooled off for awhile and try to figure out if you guys are really meant for each other.
But both of you promised not to fully commit to someone different unless you guys were sure that you didn't want each other anymore. Otherwise, one of you would come to tell the other and officially break it off.

The next thing you knew was you're too loyal that you're sleeping with a damn heavy heart in Derry while he's somewhere out in L.A living the best life probably with better company. He now could fuck with as many people as he wanted to because after 6 great years, he was finally bored with you.

So you changed your phone number and deleted all your social media accounts so he couldn't contact you and you could forget about him completely.

He was always the bigger trash mouth between you two, but ever since you two got together, he always held his tongue. He would occasionally say "fuck you," but with a cheeky blush and an idiotic grin on his face because he adores how much you annoy him in a fluttery way.

You always were so sure that Richie would never say anything mean or would do anything to hurt you intentionally but that day, he did.

It's been two years.

Your phone rang. It was Richie.

"Hey, y/n. I know it's been a long time. I'm back here in Derry. I was wondering if you could come to our spot... Y'know. Where we first started hanging out?"

Your eyes lit up. "Is there a chance that..?," you thought and paused to breathe. Whatever it may be, you shouldn't assume things. You'll either jinx it or break your heart all over again.

You see Richie at your place--- a bar table near the counter with three other guys and a girl.

"Great." You muttered under your warm breath.

Richie introduced you to them as his "Special friend" which pissed you off. You just had to conceal it because you didn't want to embarrass yourself.

One hour passed, you saw how he downed many drinks and talked with so much interest to anyone else but you. You downed many drinks yourself, trying to hide how much you're hating the moment and finding a drunken excuse to just walk away.

Finally, the alcohol kicked in. Richie occasionally asked if you were okay but you never felt the sincerity in his voice. He was asking you, but his eyes wwre elsewhere looking at one of his friends--- a girl with plump, big breasts over the bar counter.

You hated how Richie laid his eyes on someone else when they used to always be looking at you---- some of the time with lust, but most of the time, with love. You hated how much Richie has changed. How much he was so happy, it's like nothing between you happened and you never meant a thing to him.

You felt like dirty dancing with a stranger so you violently drop your 7th glass of Margarita at the center table to get Richie's attention and piss him off.

"You know what? I don't know why you fucking called me? To show me how much you're better off?" You wiped your lipstick off, tears starting to scratch your bottom lashes.

"Fucking silly of me to think you wanted me to come over so you could tell me, "Y/n, I'm sorry, I thought about it a million times over and it was killing me as much as it was killing you. I missed you so fucking much. I can't get over the fact that I was wrong. I'm sorry I hurt you. Can we fix this because I still fucking love you. But who the fuck am I kidding? I'm just playing myself."

You snickered sarcastically and stormed off to the parking lot where the lights were a lot more muted, as much as the sounds were.

You cried the fuck out frustration. You don't even know how to go home now because you expected that things would go well and Richie would take you home but he didn't. You called a cab and was about to get it when you were met by an aggressive little piece of shit fumingly shutting the cab's door close and flipping the driver off for no clear reason.

"YEAH! THAT'S IT! GET LOST, YOU MULLET-WEARING ASSHOLE!" Richie threw his hands up, attempting to threat the driver who happened to be Bowers, not to come back.

Without saying anything, he pulled you close and aggressively kissed you without context.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, TOZIER?!?" Fuming with rage, you slapped him hard across the face.

"I AM A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!"

"WELL- YEAH. NO SHIT, SHERLOCK! GO BE AN ASSHOLE TO EVERYONE. JUST NOT ME. IM SO DONE WITH YOU."

"BUT IM NOT DONE WITH YOU YET. BELIEVE ME, I WANT TO TELL YOU HOW SORRY I AM. I FELT SO LOST, I THOUGHT YOU WERE TIRED AND BORED OF ME. SO I THOUGHT IT WAS BEST THAT I LEAVE. I WAS WRONG." You shook your head in disbelief.

"I LOVE YOU, OKAY?! I ALWAYS DID AND I STILL FUCKING LOVE YOU. NO MATTER WHO I FUCKED, NO MATTER WHERE I WENT, IT WAS ALWAYS YOU. BUT I DONT FUCKING DESERVE YOU. I CANT LOVE YOU RIGHT. GOD, I COULDN'T EVEN CONFRONT YOU WHEN I WAS SO CONVINCED TODAY THAT I COULD.  I CANT TAKE BACK ALL OF THE THINGS I SAID AND DID. I HATE HOW MUCH I WANT TO FIX US AND THINKING THAT I CAN BUT I CAN'T RIGHT ALL MY WRONGS AND I CAN'T BE GOOD FOR YOU EVEN IF YOU WANTED ME."

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE , RICHIE, THAT'S ALL I WANTED TO HEAR. YOU'RE SORRY AND YOU LOVE ME. GOD, RICHIE, I CAN TAKE ALL THE BULLSHIT YOU THROW AT ME. IM ONE TOUGH BITCH, CANT YOU SEE THAT IM STILL STANDING AFTER EVERYTHING YOU PUT ME THROUGH?!? I JUST WANT YOU TO HOLD ME. THAT'S IT."

"6 DAMN GREAT YEARS. FUCK, Y/N, I CANT LOVE SOMEONE ELSE. SO WE'RE FIXING THIS TONIGHT IF YOU LET ME. I PROMISE, YOU CAN DROP ME IF I SCREW UP ONE MORE TIME. Y/N, I LOVE YOU AND I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU. BUT I UNDERSTAND IF YOU WANT OUT. I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW, YOU'RE MY HOME. IF IT ISN'T YOU, IT ISN'T ANYBODY. "

"Look, Rich. I know you're not perfect and you won't ever be. I know you're insecure as much as I am but this time, I want you to be sure that I love you. I will never get tired or bored of you. You should've told me. You know how fucking honest I can be."

"Fuck, Y/n, are you really taking me back?" He looked at you, eyes all puffy and glasses all fogged up, stained with streaks of tears. 

You took his glasses off, wiping them clean. You dried his tears with your sleeves and cupped his neck, brushing your thumb gently on the sides of it.

You tiptoed to reach him and pulled him down into a deep, passionate, warm kiss.

"Yes, Richie. I love you, you fucking asshole. Now, take me home."