Richie X Yn - Tumblr Posts

Insect repellent makes bugs go away (r.t)

summary reader and richie decide to replace patrick hockstetter’s vodka with insect repellent. ( based on this )

warnings bit of drinking, swearing, rushed ending

“Hurry the fuck up.” Richie groaned, repeatedly tapping his foot, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose for the seventh time.

“I’m trying! Class doesn’t end for another twenty minutes will you cool it?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling her sleeve up. “Alright, so it’s thirty-eight... twenty-four...” she swiftly turned the lock to its respective numbers while she talked.

The two we’re currently in front of Patrick Hockstetter’s locker in the middle of the third period, Patrick’s locker combination (courtesy of Eddie), messily scribbled on (Y/N)’s arm.

“Is that a one or a seven?” (Y/N) asked, holding her arm out to Richie, “Christ, who wrote this? I dunno try both, better yet-” Richie was cut off by the sound of his fist striking against the locker.

“Shit, that usually works with mine.” Richie frowned at the still shut locker. “Oh my god, move.” (Y/N) pleaded as she briefly caught sight of Richie’s digital clock. Did that all take 4 minutes?

(Y/N) grasper the lock a second time and twisted it to seven, unlatching the ugly green colored locker with a satisfying pop.

“Thank you, Eddie.” Richie grinned coolly, immediately going for Patrick’s backpack. “Shit, he was right.” Richie’s eyes were rounding as he pulled out two miniature bottles of vodka Richie recognized from Mr. Keene's store.

“Yeah, he was.” (Y/N) smirked, taking a bottle from Richie.

He, who they were both referring to, was Stan. The boy was closely watching the bowers gang for days after hearing what they had done to Mike, desperately searching for anything he could use against them. “Hey! I’m not stalking them; I’m just people watching.” (Y/N) found it funny nonetheless.

Richie grimaced as (Y/N) unscrewed the bottle and started pouring all its contents into an empty trash can nearby. “Is that really necessary?”

“What, you wanna get wasted now?” (Y/N) teased. “This is necessary, Rich! We have to show them that we are not to be messed with! He killed Mike’s dog, remember?“

Richie grimaced at that. “How could I forget.” He shuts his eyes, trying to shake the image out of his head.

(Y/N) was in the middle of hastily taking the plastic wrapping off of the second one before turning to Richie, “Here,” (Y/N) held out the bottle to him, and he looked at her in a skeptical look. “Fuck off.” He scoffed playfully, smiling widely now. “No, I’m serious!” She laughed. “I mean... you look like you need it.” She said sarcastically.

She was surprised when he took it but chose not to speak against it. Richie warily sniffed the bottle, grimacing at the smell before slowly downing a quarter of it. “Shit, Tozier.” (Y/N) gasped excitedly before taking a sip. “Just don’t tell Bill.” She exclaimed before pouring the rest of it into the bin with the first one.

“Alright, give,”

Richie then dove into his backpack in a rush, searching for the insect repellent they had bought a few days ago. Handing the bottle to (Y/N), she smiled in a silent thanks and twisted the spray nozzle off of the container.

“Shit, we should’ve splurged a bit and get one that actually smells like shit.” (Y/N) complained as she brought the bottle away from her nose, now pouring it into the two small vodka glasses. Richie chuckled from his position leaning against a locker, “Nah, I think he’ll get the message.” He said not meeting her eyes, instead, digging through Patrick’s backpack, snatching the pack of cigarettes out while (Y/N) wasn’t watching, placing one between his lips.

“This is even, right?” (Y/N) held up the two, now filled glasses to show Richie, only getting a shrug in response. “Doesn’t matter.” He took them and carelessly threw them back into Patrick’s backpack.

“So not that I love spending quality time with you, babe.” Richie joker, mumbling around the cigarette.

He zipped the bag back up, holding it by its strap as he put it back in the locker. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth so he could speak. “But tell me again why any of the other losers couldn’t do this?”

“Smooth, Tozier.” (Y/N) plucked a Twizzler out of Patrick’s locker, “Bev and Ben have a test that they can’t miss, Bill has some presentation, Eddie had something too, but I forgot-”

“That’s bull,” Richie rolled his eyes, mumbling something about them being “pussies” before pausing, “wait... are we on a date right now?” Richie turned to (Y/N) accusingly.

“Please,” (Y/N) laughed, reviving an offended smack from the boy. Ignoring him, she stretched dramatically before yawning. “Time?”

“Ten thirty, let’s get outta here.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Shit.” (Y/N) quietly shut Patrick’s locker. Richie’s eyes furrowed at her before turning around.

“What the fuck are you losers doing with my shit?” Patrick Hockstetter, probably kicked out of class for talking back to the teacher, spat, walking towards the pair. “Shit, run!” Richie stuck the cigarette back in his mouth before reaching for  (Y/N)’s hand.

Just before turning, (Y/N) made an impulse decision and kicked the vodka filled trash can, the contents spilling all over the floor. (Y/N) didn’t turn to see Patrick’s reaction as Richie dashed out of the hallway, red converse squeaking as they made contact with the ground.

The two settled to hide behind a car in the school parking lot, deciding to wait until break before actually leaving. “This was kinda fun. We should- we should do it again.” Richie stammered quietly next to her, playing with the unlit cigarette.

(Y/N) stifled a giggle and held her breath to stop herself from calling him cute. “Yeah, Rich, I’ll let you know when Henry pants’ Stan next.”

“You know what I mean.” Richie rolls his eyes, scratching his neck nervously. (Y/N) smiled.

“And by the way,” Richie says, finally turning to face her. “The way you wasted all that vodka? That was kinda hot.”

(Y/N) snickered, shoving Richie lightly. They, for sure, would have to do this again.

A Night Out With Thee Richie Tozier (r.t)

anonymous : cliche prompt #42 with Richie? I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having

summary Richie saves (Y/N) from a horrible date with Derry high school’s resident golden boy.

warnings swearing, drinking

(Y/N) thought that she’d be smarter than to let herself get into this situation. Obviously, she wasn’t.

A Waffle House? For a first date? Maybe she was being too snobbish but she certainly expected more from Derry High School’s Basketball Captain.

She nodded her head along to whatever Lance was saying probably a bit too eagerly, wanting him to just shut up about sports.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom but uh I’ll be right back.” Lance smirked. (Y/N) hummed and sent him a tight lipped smile.

Picking at her barely touched plate of food, she didn’t notice the door to the dinner open and close.

“Overdressed much?” Richie snorted, more of a question than a statement. “What the fuck are you doing here? Dressed like that.” He snickered, taking in the scene in front of him.

“Asshole,” (Y/N) frowned, “I’m on a date.” She says in a hushed tone, face flushing.

Richie and (Y/N) weren’t close, not by a long shot, but they were close enough for her to call him asshole and for him to not take it to heart.

“With who? Cause’ shit this is weird.” He sniffles awkwardly before taking a seat in her dates chair.

“I didn’t know Lance was taking me to get breakfast food for dinner.” (Y/N) said hurriedly, rolling her eyes, careful not to rub her eyes in frustration, the mascara she so carefully applied would be ruined.

“Lance... Lance Evans?” Richie asked in disbelief. 

(Y/N) groaned and Richie all but choked, almost falling off his chair.

“I know he didn’t let me into the team but... I didn’t know the guy could be so,” Richie gestured to (Y/N), the food in front of her and their current setting. “Charming.” He seemed satisfied. biting back his grin with little to no effort.

“Yeah and he’s gonna be out here any second so,” (Y/N) shrugged and nodded to the exit, the sensible thing for Richie to do would be to walk away, but leaving (Y/N) there would be heartless. Right?

Richie rolled his eyes, “okay fine. Let’s go.” Richie stood up, abroptly. “What?”

“You’re clearly having a horrible time, princess. Breakfast and more basketball talk with Evans or a night out with Thee Trashmouth Tozier? Not even a question.” He scoffed playfully.

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed in a playfully judgemental manner. He was right. Listen to Lance talk about how he ‘’made it rain’ at last Friday’s game or leave right now with Richie. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I actually just got intoa’ fight with the big sis.” Richie grinned boyishly, following (Y/N) out the door. “So you came here?” “This is my fuckin’ spot, babe! I always come here.”

(Y/N) waited while Richie unlocked his car and when he did, he opened the rear door for her. She wanted to make a joke about how Richie was such a gentleman but cringed sat herself and held it back instead.

Richie huffed as he started the engine, “your place?” He asked through a smirk cheekily. “You wish.” (Y/N) laughed, snorting.

“So what did you do to piss your sister off so bad?” (Y/N) asked Richie as she absentmindedly played with the straw of her cherry slushy, eyes fixed on the street fighter character Richie was currently playing as.

His hand movements sped up and got rougher as he began to loose, a quick glance at (Y/N) being enough to mess with his flow, the pixelated character on the bright screen grunting as it fell to the ground, dead. Game over.

He turned to her and she took his look in. Really took him in for the first time ever. His face was flushed a light pink, hair a mess, but his eyes. His eyes were different tonight, for the first time, they didn’t have any sense of mischief behind them, Richie didn’t feel the need to mess with (Y/N) for her attention or do something that might hurt himself for it either.

“What? You think I’m paying for all of this with my own hard earned money?” He joked dramatically, gesturing at the plastic bag filled with arcade tokens and (Y/N)’s slushy. “So you robbed her?” (Y/N) grimaced from the brain freeze as well as the thought of Richie stealing from his sister.

“Uh uh; borrowed.” He said matter-of-factly as he, for the third time that night, pushed two tokens into the street fighter machine.

“And what’re you doing drinking that shit?” Richie reaches into his pocket and took out a half full miniature bottle of absolut vodka. “You bought that with your sisters money too?” (Y/N) asked curiously. “No, Mr. Keene’s jus a dumbass.”

“What? He deserves it! Fuckin’ creep...” Richie responded to (Y/N)’s sour look as he shivered at the mention of the drug store owner.

“Here.” Richie quickly unscrewed the small bottle, working quick as he turned the glass upside down, piercing the slushy in (Y/N)’s hand as he impaled it neck deep into her drink, the once cherry red color diluting as the alcohol seeped into the slush.

(Y/N) didnt complain, only holding it away from Richie when he tried to grab at it.

“No way. Your driving me home.” She said teasingly as she sipped at the concoction.

“Whatever.” Richie rolled his eyes, hand gripping the joystick under him as he’s done hundreds of times, swiveling it around a bit and finally pressing the “play” button.

(Y/N) smilled, cheeks flushing, Richie would make a joke about it but she would swear that it was from the alcohol.