The Trashmouth [Richie Tozier x Reader]

19: IT Got Beverly

A/N: i'm back bitches. sorry for the wait. i uh kinda forgot i never finished this story tbh. but you guys actually seemed to like it, so I finished it for you! thanks so much for all the love and support <3 

also currently working on a reddie fanfiction if any of you are interested ;) 

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Y/N's POV

Richie brought me back to his house and he hasn't left my side. We're on the couch and he's snuggled up next to me and holding me tightly like he never wants to let go. And I snuggle into his embrace because he makes me feel like maybe, everything will be okay. 

"Richie?" I say after a while.

"Yeah?" he responds.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. You saved me from my mom, a demon clown, and...him. You accepted me into your friend group and somehow became the most important person in my life. You gave my life purpose. You mean so much to me, Richie."

"You mean so much to me too, hot stuff," he replies, "I don't know what I'd do without you." I can tell he's being genuine. I look up at him, staring into his eyes. He presses a kiss onto my forehead and I smile at him. 

"I love you," I say quietly, almost in a whisper. 

"I love you too," Richie says, looking at me as if he's been wanting to say it for so long. I rest my head on his chest, trying to get closer to him, even though we're already pressed against each other with tangled-up limbs. 

"Wanna watch a movie?" he asks, trying to find something to take my mind off of things. I nod and Richie gets up to pick out a movie to put on. 

"Nothing scary," I state, having enough horror in my own life. 

"Aw, come on," Richie says, "Horror's my favorite." I just look at him. "Fine, but no corny romance shit," he adds. 

"Deal."

That night I don't sleep very well, even though Richie had his arms around me in protection. My head lays on his chest and I try to focus on his heartbeat to calm me down. I just can't help but feel like something's wrong. 

The next day, Richie and I bike over to the arcade. Well, Richie bikes, and I hold on. That feeling is still in my gut, but I try to ignore it and have fun with Richie. 

"I don't understand how just mashing the buttons works for you," Richie says, exasperated, "I've been practicing for years and you still manage to beat me sometimes." 

"What can I say?" I respond, "I'm talented as fuck." Richie rolls his eyes. 

"Rematch?" he asks.

"You're on," I say, determined. 

Not long after, Bill comes barging into the arcade. 

"What do you want?" Richie seethes. "See that guy I'm hitting? I'm pretending it's you."

"It-it got Beverly," Bill says solemnly. 

"What are you talking about?" Richie says. My heart drops and I look at Bill's expression. This isn't a joke. 

"IT, Richie," Bill responds, "It got Beverly." Richie instantly stops playing in realization. He turns to Bill.

"Fuck," he whispers, all anger leaving his voice. 

Bill, Stanley, Eddie, Richie, Ben, Mike, and I rush over on our bikes to that fateful house. We throw our bikes down, except for Stanley of course. Eddie rips off his fanny pack and chucks it across the yard. We begin searching for anything that can be used as a weapon. Fighting a demon clown was not something any of us had the supplies for. Bill grabs a pointy metal rod. Richie finds an empty bottle and breaks it before throwing it on the ground, defeated.