#it2017

The Losers were scattered everywhere in the clubhouse, hiding from the summer heat.

Ben hunched over a book, Stan, Mike and Bill talking quietly about something serious, Eddie sitting way too far away from a spider he swore was definitely moving. Bev sat on the ladder and smoked a cigarette.

And then there was Richie.

He was stretched out in the hammock.

He rocked lazily back and forth, hands folded behind his head, sunglasses on his face even though they were inside, talking loud about something no one had really asked about.

You sat off to the side on an old wooden crate, knees pulled up, hands resting in your lap.

You were listening like you always did. Smiling quietly when Richie went overboard.

He was loud with the others, but every time his eyes flicked over to you, something shifted.

His voice dropped just a little. Almost careful.

“And then the guy’s like, okay, this is officially the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen—”

His gaze caught yours.

“—uh… yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You know. Whatever.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks and quickly looked down.

Richie noticed.

A small smile tugged at his lips as the hammock swayed gently.

Your eyes drifted back to the hammock.

It looked comfortable.

Your heart sped up a little.

After a few more hesitant thoughts, you finally stood up and walked over, slow and unsure.

“R-Richie?” your voice was soft, almost shy.

Instantly, he sat up, sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

“Hey,” he said gently, like the word was meant just for you. “What’s up?”

You twisted your fingers together. “Um… I was wondering…”

You swallowed. “If it’s okay… could I maybe sit with you? In the hammock. I mean. If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine—”

“Yes.”

You blinked.

“Yes,” he repeated, already shifting over. “Absolutely. Please. I mean—yeah. Of course.”

He scooted to the side, holding the hammock steady with one hand while he offered you the other. “C’mon. I got you, pretty girl.”

You took his hand, your fingers barely brushing his palm, and carefully climbed in beside him.

The hammock dipped, swaying gently, and instinctively Richie moved closer so you wouldn’t slide.

One arm came up, not wrapping around you, just there.

You sat stiffly at first, your shoulder barely touching his chest.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he murmured. “Just tell me if you’re uncomfortable, alright?”

Your face felt warm again.

He smiled, softer than anyone else ever saw.

Across the room, everyone had gone completely silent. Eddie stared. Stan’s eyebrows were raised. Ben’s mouth hung open just slightly. Bill looked confused.

Eddie broke first. “I always have to argue with you about the hammock,” he said, offended. “And she asks you once and you immediately say yes?”

Richie didn’t even look at him.

“Different rules,” he said simply.

“What rules?”

Richie glanced down at you, his voice dropping again. “The important ones.”

You tried not to smile, but failed.

He noticed. “There it is,” he whispered teasingly. “That smile. You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”

You shook your head shyly, cheeks pink.

He leaned back again, the hammock rocking slowly, his tone returning to loud chaos when he spoke to the others, but every word meant for you stayed soft and close.

You’re already having a bad day.

Too many people in the hallway. Too much noise. Too many eyes that might be looking at you, even if they probably aren’t.

You keep your head down, fingers tight around your books, counting steps like you always do.

“Hey.”

You freeze and don’t turn around at first, clinging to the hope that maybe they didn’t mean you.

“I’m talking to you, mute girl” the boy says, louder now. “Jesus, do you ever look up? Or are you just scared of literally everyone?”

Your chest tightens.

A few people nearby slow down, sensing entertainment.

The Losers are down the hall, Richie’s voice carries even over the noise, but he hasn’t seen yet.

The boy steps closer. “What’s wrong with you, huh?” he sneers. “Too stupid to talk? Or just pathetic?”

Something hot flares in your chest.

You turn around so fast it surprises even you.

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!" you say, voice shaking, but loud and clear.

The hallway goes dead silent.

The boy stares at you like you just slapped him. “What did you just say—”

“I said shut up,” you snap, hands trembling at your sides, eyes blazing now. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to talk to anyone like that. So maybe crawl back to whatever miserable hole you came from and stop projecting your sad little personality onto strangers.”

There’s a half-second where no one breathes.

“Yeah, you tell him—don’t let that motherfucker talk to you like that!”. Richie’s voice explodes down the hallway. He’s clapping like he’s at a concert.

The boy’s face goes red. “Whatever,” he mutters, backing off fast. “You’re all freaks.”

“And we're proud!”, Richie yells after him. The guy disappears into the crowd.

Your adrenaline crashes all at once. Your hands start shaking. Your heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts. You suddenly feel very aware of how many people just heard you swear like that. “I—” you start, panic creeping in. “I shouldn’t have—”

Richie is in front of you in an instant. His hands gently cup your arms, grounding, steady. His voice drops low, just for you. “Hey. Hey. You’re okay.”

You blink up at him, breath uneven.

“You were amazing,” he says softly. “You stood up for yourself. I’m so proud of you I might cry and sue the school for emotional damages.”

You let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.

Behind him, the others are still stunned. “Did… did she just say ‘piece of shit’?” Eddie whispers.

Beverly grins. “I like her even more now.”

Richie leans closer to you, forehead almost touching yours. “I’m really proud of you.”, voice soft and quiet. Your blush returns full force.

Behind him, Beverly grins. “Did we just witness character development?”

“Shut up,” Richie says without looking away from you. “This is my moment.”

Richie Tozier, who used to constantly ask you 'how the weather was up there'.

★—Tall!Reader, who used to shoot back by asking him how the weather was closer to hell.

Richie Tozier, who secretly likes it when you ruffle his hair like he's a kid, even though he acts like he's about to kill you for it.

★—Tall!Reader, who used to do it only to annoy him, but now it's become something of an inside joke...and a display of affection.

Richie Tozier, who jokes about how you could sit on his face while standing up, grinning at the disgusted looks and boos from the rest of the losers.

★—Tall!Reader, who merely raises an eyebrow and responds with, "you sound like you've thought about this before." (Which shuts him up instantly.)

Richie Tozier, who literally only comes up to your chin when he's not slouching. On a regular day, he's making eye contact with your boobs. (Not that he's complaining...)

★—Tall!Reader, who constantly catches strays in his jokes, just like Eddie does. At this point, you just start teasing him about how much he must be thinking about you if he's always trying to find ways to make fun of you.

Richie Tozier, who asks once why you're always wearing shorts, dresses and skirts instead of jeans, even though you prefer the latter.

★—Tall!Reader, who answers simply, "They don't make jeans long enough for me to wear."

Richie Tozier, who goes home that day with a strange sense of injustice and has to do something about it. He asks your mom for your measurements, knowing you'll probably brush him off if he asks you. He also ends up raiding the fabric store and pesters anyone in Derry who'll know about how to sew pants, ignoring the strange looks and under-the-breath comments they give him because fuck, you deserve to have a pair of jeans that actually fit you for once in your life.

★—Tall!Reader, who receives the custom-made pair of jeans on your birthday, which literally brings you to tears. You practically launch yourself at him--thank god he's sitting, or he'd probably collapse under his jelly-knees. Since then, you've worn those jeans almost every single day, patching them when they wear and caring for them like they're your most prized possession. Any time Richie sees you in them, his cheeks tinge pink...which is why you're always teasing him about being sunburned even though everyone else knows he's not.

Richie Tozier, who gets antsy when you're not around, and ends up biking two miles over to your house in the night and climbing up to your window, only to discover you're not there.

★—Tall!Reader, who did the exact same thing, and you both spent about two hours looking for each other, only to cross paths on the way back to your respective houses. "Fancy seeing you here," you joked.

Richie Tozier, who calls you at ungodly hours of the night to tell you some stupid ass 'tall joke' he thought of in a stupor.

★—Tall!Reader, who sits there for a full 60 seconds, contemplating what would be the appropriate murder weapon for this occasion before answering, "Richie, what the fuck is wrong with you why you're doing this to me?" And promptly hanging up before giggling stupidly at the punchline. Because who needs to know that you actually like all his jokes?

Richie Tozier, who climbs in through your window one night, insisting that he didn't see you enough today and needs his required amount of quality time or the consequences would be dire.

★—Tall!Reader, who blinks twice with a look of confusion and then shrugs, tossing him a comic book and settling back into bed.

Richie Tozier, who sits on the floor for a grand total of four minutes before complaining about the discomfort, and how could you do this to him, your best friend who's never done anything but love and support you.

★—Tall!Reader, who rolls your eyes automatically before registering the word 'love'. Slowly, you turn your head toward him. "Say that last part again." He gulps. "What part? The part where I said I've only ever supported you?" You stare at him. "Richie. Don't do this." He looks at the floor, face scalding. "Okay. I might've also said...the L-word." He says it like it's an unspeakable sin. But you hear it like it's conformation that everything in the world is going to be okay.

Richie Tozier, who is convinced that you're going to tell him to leave, and is just about to suggest it before you fling off your covers and launch yourself off the bed to sit right in front of him, hands on your knees and leaning forward in an attempt to stare into his soul and see if he's lying. With you so close, it's like his brain is shutting down; he doesn't know what else to do but shut his eyes tight and close the space between you.

★—Tall!Reader, who makes a small sound of surprise before leaning into it, cupping his cheek in a way that makes his stomach somersault. You kiss until you're dizzy, breaking apart only when you're teetering on passing out, and you can't tell if you're giggly because of the mild asphyxiation or because you just kissed your best friend.

Richie Tozier, whose glasses are all fogged up from the shared breath, and can't stop gawking at you like you sprouted an extra head. After he recovers, the first thing he says is: "Is this a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?"

★—Tall!Reader, who breaks into a wide grin and reaches out to brush his bangs out of his face. "Of course it is, doofus. And...of course I will."

Richie Tozier, who proudly holds your hand as you walk around, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face even as the rest of the losers make fun of how whipped he is for you.

★—Tall!Reader, who is equally as whipped for him and does not deny it whatsoever.

Richie Tozier, who is constantly mistaken for younger than he is.

★—Tall!Reader, who is constantly mistaken for much older than you are. Together, you are a very confusing couple that has to remind everyone that you are indeed the same age. Who would want anything less?

Richie Tozier, who tells you not to hunch over when you kiss him, instead standing on tip-toes to meet you where you're at. Because after a lifetime of making yourself smaller just to fit in, you deserve someone that will make themself taller to fit with you.

he is three apples tall btw