✩ 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗 ~ 𝚛.𝚝. ✩

51 1 22
                                    

pairing: richie tozier x (fem)reader

warnings: extreme cursing, slightly mature themes, angst

word count: 2020

song preference: when i was your man, bruno mars

requested? [yes] [no]


—————————————————————————————————————


ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ his life was going too well.

He had the perfect girlfriend, the best friends in the world, and was living happily in a somewhat unhappy town. His parents had bought him a car for his sixteenth birthday and he was getting pretty good grades in school. He wasn't being bullied as much as he did in middle school, and he hadn't even thought about that damned clown in a long time.

Fall, Richie knew, was always [Name]'s favorite season. She loved the holidays, the beautiful and fiery colors painted on every tree in town, and the seasonal candles and drinks sold everywhere in Derry. [Name] had planned her costume with Richie months ago, but now he seemed far less enthusiastic about it. They were supposed to go as Freddy Kreuger and Nancy Thompson from A Nightmare on Elm Street, but now Richie seemed nearly indifferent at his girlfriend's unbridled excitement.

"You won't even need a mask," she said teasingly, tossing the costume onto her bed. The young couple were relaxing away from [Name]'s talkative parents in her room, although (as requested) the door was left unlocked and cracked open.

"Yeah," Richie said, dryly chuckling. [Name] frowned a little at his neutral answer, glancing up from the box where the costume came from, seeing that he was flipping through one of the magazines on her dresser, looking bored. This made [Name] even more upset, standing from beside her bed and walking to where Richie was, positioning herself behind him and looking over his shoulder at the magazine.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked, her voice low and whispy. Richie glanced at her and then back down at the magazine.

"Uh . . . Fashion Weekly, I think," he responded, flipping to a new page. Unsatisfied with his dry answer, he put her hands on his shoulders and began lightly rubbing his upper back, targeting the muscle between his neck and shoulder blade.

"Why don't you put it down," she whispered, and Richie did as told, wondering where this was going. She kissed the spot behind his ear and then removed her hands from his back, allowing him to rotate in the swivel chair he was sitting in.

"Are you okay? You're acting weird," Richie said, not even looking turned on in the slightest. [Name] groaned, rolling her eyes and waving him away. If anything, he was the one acting weird. His eyes followed the girl from behind magnified lenses, confused as to why she was all of a sudden so distant. She had just been massaging his shoulders, and now she was sitting on the floor and rustling through that cardboard box again?

"I'm just fine," she said passively, tossing another piece of Richie's supposed costume on the bed. The more he was looking at it, the more guilty he felt. Of course, now that Halloween was a week away, he wanted to back out. It wasn't that he didn't like the costume itself . . . He just wasn't sure how he felt about wearing it with [Name]. Richie wasn't embarrassed by his loving girlfriend, just felt awkward. Like he didn't really like her, and was just dating her out of pity. She had, after all, been the first to confess to him.

"Uh, listen, babe, I love the effort you're putting into this, but—" he began, averting his eyes from her busy form in embarrassment.

"But what, Richard? Are you getting tired of me already?" she asked sourly, rolling her eyes as they landed on her boyfriend. Richie cringed a little; He knew he was in for it when she used his full name. "You certainly have been acting like it, and frankly I have no idea why."

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫Where stories live. Discover now