Richie tozier x reader - caught white handed âĄ
Warnings! smut, fingering, swearing.
idea from my favourite girl @dickology64 đ
The rain hammered against the windows of Richieâs bedroom, a growing storm settling in the sky outside. It was around 10pm, and Richie was laying on his bed with a certain someone plaguing his mind. He groaned, before turning onto his side and pulling a pillow closer to his body. The hazy light from his bedside lamp reflected from his glasses and despite how cold it was outside, Richie lay shirtless.
He was thinking of her. The way she giggled at his dirty jokes and didnât sigh and hit his shoulder like the rest of the losers. The way she let pineapple dribble down the corners of her lips that one hot day at the quarry, and didnât bat away his hand when he went to wipe it. The way she threw her head back and pulled her hair away to expose her neck when the summer heatwave his Derry, that one summer before they all turned 16. He remembered thinking about littering purple marks on her neck, his lips trailing along her collarbones and across her jaw, his hands going lower and lower-
No. He stopped himself. He shouldnât be thinking of her like that.
Oh but remember when you caught a glimpse of her topless when her bikini top fell off when she canon-balled into the quarry.
No no. He couldnât. But it was too late. The image had already flashed into his mind and there was a tent pitched in his boxers. He groaned in annoyance and embarrassment. He tried to think of the girls on the hub when he let his hand slip into his underwear. But his mind kept pulling him into images of y/n, when she bent down to ruffle his hair and he got a perfect view of down her bra, when she pulled off her denim shorts revealing bikini bottoms and a very exposed ass, when she bit her lip mindlessly. His hand was pumping his cock, picking up speed with every sexual image of y/n that flooded his mind. His mind flickered for a second to the moan she made when they were awkwardly watching a sex scene together. He could feel himself become closer and closer to blowing his load, choking down the urge to moan out her name.
Y/n was running breathlessly down Richieâs street, her white dress soaked through and her well-loved converse leaking water into her socks. Her hair was dripping with water and her feet splashed in the puddles that had formed on the sidewalk.
She reached Richieâs porch, hesitating for a second before she let herself in. His parents cars werenât on the driveway, so she knew they were away for work again. She mentally sighed. Poor Richie.
She quietly closed the door behind her, tugging off her shoes so she didnât trudge water through his house. The words were burning inside of her throat, repeating over and over in her mind, engraved in her veins.
I love you Richie Tozier.
She yearned to say it, the realisation earlier that evening consuming her to the point she ran to his house to tell him. She didnât care if he told her to leave. She didnât care if she had to leave the losers group. She didnât care if he liked bev. She just wanted to tell him, to throw up the words before they burned her inside-out.
She creeped up the stairs, hoping not to make too much noise in case his parents were in fact home, despite the little chance. As she came closer to his room, she heard quiet moans and a string of words she couldnât quite make out.
Richie couldnât help it. He moaned out her name, loud and clear, thankful that his parents werenât home.
Y/n covered her mouth with her hand, her heart jumping out her chest. She couldnât quite belive it. Was he- getting off to her?
She knew she shouldnât, but she couldnât help it. She opened Richieâs bedroom door, her jaw dropping at the sight of Richieâs hand moving quickly in his underwear.
And what was even more embarrassing, was that his eyes were closed and as soon as he opened them, he blew his load.
You see the thing about white, wet dresses is that they are see-through. And Richie could see her breasts and lacy underwear. So I think itâs pretty understandable that he came at the sight of that.
Richie grabbed his pillow, pulling it on his lap and going bright red.
Y/n was frozen, her mouth open. She was shocked sure, but the heat growing in between her legs implied that other emotions were taking over. She swallowed hard.
âThat was hot, you know.â
Richie was surprised. But he wasnât complaining.
âBetter in real life than in your mind, huh?â He smirked, classic Richie.
Y/n walked over to his bed, taking a seat next to him.
She was certain that she wanted this.
âDonât you think itâs my turn to cum?â
Richie tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, leaning his lips closer to her neck.
âI wonât help you unless you beg for it.â
Y/n felt herself grow wet at his words, letting Richie settle his knees on either side of y/n.
Y/n propped herself up on her elbows.
âPlease make me cum Richie. I canât do it without you.â
Richie smiled. Thatâs what he wanted to hear. He dipped his face into her neck, kissing and sucking and nibbling. He left purple marks along her collarbone, making his away across her jaw. His other hand rested on her hip, but he slowly started to move it underneath her dress, along her thighs. He continued kissing her neck, pressing his hand on her core, instantly making her back arch slightly. He smirked against her skin.
âSo desperate for me, right doll?â
She replied with a gasp, when he started to rub her through the thin fabric of her underwear. His lips didnât leave her neck whilst his hand continued to rub her throbbing clit through her underwear. His lips now pink, he trailed his face down towards her breasts, kissing what the dress didnât cover. His other hand had slipped up her dress, his thumb grazing over her nipple and rubbing her breast.
âIâm gonna- Richie- I-â
Y/nâs toes started to curl, her head thrown back. Her hands desperately tried to find something to grab, the closest thing being Richieâs mop of dark curls. He let out a deep groan.
Just as she was about to finish, Richie retracted his hand from rubbing her.
âOh my god, Richie, please-â
âWhat do you want? Want to cum on my hand?â
Richie shoved her underwear aside, pushing two fingers inside her, curling up into a âcome-hereâ motion. Her back arched, her grip tightening on his hair.
â Make those pretty noises doll.â He managed to let out whilst pumping his two fingers in and out of her.
Y/n moaned out his name, once pretty quiet, a second time louder. Richie hit her g-spot. A third time she practically screamed it.
Richie stroked her hair from her face, kissing her breasts and flicking his tongue over each new mark he made.
âRichie, can I- can I-â
âHm good for asking for permission doll. Yes you can. Let it go, good girl.â
As soon as he said âgood girlâ, she came all over his fingers, screaming his name.
And Richie fucking loved it.
He pulled his fingers out, licking the juices from them right in front of her face. He lay down next to her, pulling her body into his.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes.
He hummed in response, nuzzling his face into her neck.
Richie jumped back and looked at her, gobsmacked.
Y/n thought he was going to tell her the worst. That he didnât love her back. She felt a pit of sadness growing in her stomach.
Y/n eyes lit up, her frown instantly turning into a smile. She laced her fingers into his curls, planting a kiss on his lips.
Good job Stan didnât come round to watch a movie with him.
