IT imagines

Weak When Ur Around - Richie Tozier

July 1989

Lifting the cigarette she took a drag eyeing the boy in front of her skeptically. "Look here, Tozier. You-" she paused motioning her hand towards him, "-and I, just wouldn't work. It'd be a big waste of time, and we both know I don't like wasting time."

Richie stared at her with a dead look in his eyes, before a smirk took over his features. "Oh come on, sugar. You-" he said motioning a hand out towards her mockingly, "-and I would be great together. You know it, I know it, and the losers know it." He smirked, pointing a finger behind him where the remaining losers sat, waiting for their foolish friend to finish his proclamation of 'like' as Richie referred to it. When he revealed his plans to the rest of the losers club they told him how bad of an idea it was but he went ahead anyways, despite the previous failed attempts at gaining her attention.

(y/n) glanced behind Richie, spotting the make shift gang of misfits. Making eye contact with Ben her eyes darted back to Richie's, but not before she saw the pudgy boy raise his hand in a timid wave. Fighting the urge to smile she lifted herself off the library steps and dropped the cigarette stub on the ground, crushing it under her boot. Faking a smile she looked at over at the prideful boy before her. "As usual it was a absolute pleasure talking to you today, Trashmouth." Sarcasm dripping from her lips as she turned to leave Richie at the bottom of the stairs.

Richie called after her retreating figure. "I love it when you walk away from me, beautiful! Only makes me want you more!" Richie waited as he watched (y/n) turn the corner and head out of sight before turning back to his friends. Adjusting his glasses he sauntered over to his friends, mimicking the cowboys from the western movies he watched. "I think that went quite well. Don't you, gentlemen?"

Richie heard Beverly clear her throat, wanting to be acknowledged. He dismissed her plea with a wave of his hand. "Not now woman! The men of the house are speaking." Stan rolled his eyes in annoyance as Beverly huffed. The entire group getting annoyed with Richie's antics.

"Yeah Richie, that went real well. You're such a charmer." Stan said, crossing his arms. "Now you look here, Stanley. One day (y/n) will fall in love with my rugged looks, just you wait." Walking backwards Richie held out his hands, placing his middle fingers in the air. "Just you wait, gang. Just you fucking wait." With a final flick of his wrists Richie headed home for the night.

August 1989

(y/n) sat on her roof, overlooking the small suburban neighborhood as she exhaled, smoke spilling out of her mouth as she exhaled. The sun began to set and the houses around her began to light up, casting a dim yellow glow from their windows and mixing with the pink and orange hues of the sky. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the quiet suburbia. Dogs barked wildly in the distance as the shouting began.

In the time that (y/n) had lived next to Richie Tozier she had become accustomed to their fights, and she supposed so had everyone else. Mrs. Tozier yelled loudly, her shouts muffled by the walls. (y/n) still heard her clearly as she yelled obscenities at her son, the noise leaking through an open window. She had only seen Mrs. Tozier a handful of times, all of which she seemed to be intoxicated. Slurring her words and stumbling even in the early hours of the morning when she got the paper.

(y/n) felt a tinge of guilt when she heard the sharp crack of skin on skin contact, a small whine following the sound. It wasn't the first time Mrs. Tozier had struck her son, and it wouldn't be the last. Their fights occurring more often as the years stacked up. Time was not on Richie Tozier's side as his mother's abusive tendencies started to catch up with him.

The sky grew darker with every passing second, the colors being masked with black as the stars began to appear. The yelling seemed to subside as (y/n) lifted herself from where she sat on the roof, stretching her arms over her head before throwing her cigarette over the edge.