RICHIE TOZIER X READER ch#1

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             You had always really liked Richie Tozier, ever since you had met him in the Losers Club. He was funny, intelligent, and brave, even if he hid it behind his jokes and glasses. You never told him how you felt, though. You were afraid he wouldn’t feel the same way, or worse, he would make fun of you.

But now, 27 years later, you had an opportunity to see him again. You got a call from Mike Hanlon, telling you that IT was back, and you had to return to Derry. You felt a combination of fear and excitement as you packed your bags and boarded a plane.

You arrived at the Jade of the Orient, where Mike had arranged a reunion dinner for the Losers. You saw familiar faces: Bill, Ben, Beverly, Eddie, and Stan. Well, not Stan. He had killed himself after getting Mike’s call. You felt a pang of sadness as you remembered your old friend.

But where was Richie?

You scanned the room, looking for his curly hair and glasses. Then you saw him. He looked different, but still the same. He had grown taller and thinner, his hair was shorter and darker, and he wore contacts instead of glasses. But he still had that smirk on his face and those eyes that sparkled with mischief.

He saw you too, and his expression changed. He looked surprised, then happy, then nervous. He walked over to you, slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Hey, Yn,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Hey, Richie,” you said, smiling.

You hugged him, feeling his arms around you. He smelled like cologne and cigarettes. You pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“You look good,” you said.

“So do you,” he said.

You felt a blush rising on your cheeks. You wanted to say more, but you were interrupted by Mike.

“Hey, guys! Come on, let’s sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

You followed Mike to the table, where the other Losers were waiting. You sat next to Richie, feeling his leg brush against yours. You wondered if he did it on purpose.

You tried to pay attention to Mike’s explanation of IT’s history and how to kill it, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Richie. He seemed distracted, too, fidgeting with his napkin and cracking jokes under his breath.

You felt a connection with him, something that had never faded over the years. You wanted to tell him how you felt, but you were afraid of what he would say.

You decided to wait until after dinner when you could talk to him alone.

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