Multi Fandom X Non-Binary Reader One Shots

Numbers | richie tozier

>> gif found on giphy <<

fandom | It: Chapter One

character | (17) Richie Tozier

reader | Plus-sized

requested | Anonymous, @/wolfhard-tozier on tumblr, @/wukindly on tumblr, @/beepbeeprichtozier on tumblr

warnings | Angst, body image issues, eating issues (disorder like behavior)

word count | 1,218

keys | (Y/n) = Your name, (g/n) = guardian's noun (mom, dad, grandma...etc), (s/h/t) = she, he, or they

summary | yooo could u do a richie x reader where the reader on the chubbier size and (if ur comfortable with this) they struggle with eating and richie intervenes And makes sure they get help for it and somewhere in between he confesses his love? hehe

editor | @/feliscatus-exe on tumblr

I would like to say that I struggle heavily with body image issues and most of the feelings described in this story are my own feelings towards myself, I hope the self-projection adds a more realistic vibe to the story, and I apologize if it doesn't match the theme that was asked for. Also, please remember that you are beautiful no matter what anyone, even yourself, says

>><<

The sun had risen and plucked itself into the sky, shining down and illuminating the land for as far as the eye could see. You, however, were not one for sunshine, so you closed your curtain tight and went back to staring in the mirror. Your hands met your face as you closely examined your round cheeks. Your fingers were delicate as you poked and prodded the soft skin.

Your hands moved from your face to your stomach. Ever so gently, your fingertips traced the stretch marks that littered your body. You always had a deep resentment for these things. They made you feel horrible. Disgusting, even. You would see those smaller than you unafraid to show their stomachs, their bodies free of these blinding reminders of how fat you were.

You had to look away from the mirror. Your eyes were stinging and your self-hatred was soon starting to become something unbearable. You wished more than anything that you could just be okay. Feel comfortable in your skin. Be at ease with your body. You knew, however, that it would be impossible. Self-love was never something you could see yourself doing.

You walked towards your bed, grabbing a baggy sweater so you could hide your curves from your own prying eyes. You were grossly aware of how unhealthy you were. Aware of how much you ate. Aware of how big you looked from every angle. You hated every bit of it.

You walked through your door and down the hall towards the kitchen. You kept your head down and stood at the fridge, opening it and quickly grabbing a water bottle. You trudged to your couch, sitting down and staring at the dark screen of your tv. You rested your head on your knees, the feeling of melancholy seeming to metastasize for no reason.

You had long since forgotten what feeling happy was like. Sure, you smiled and laughed and seemed as normal as anyone would presume, but it was all just a mask. Every passing hour you fell deeper and deeper into self-loathing. You wanted more than anything to get better, but had no idea how.

A loud knock at your front door interrupted you from your thoughts. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to remember if your (g/n) said (s/h/t) was getting off early. You stood from the couch, not wanting to move but ultimately deciding that you had to. The wooden floor was cold against your feet as you slowly walked towards the door. You twisted the knob, surprised to see your best friend Richie when it opened.

"Hey, hot stuff." He said. Your cheeks turned red. Richie had the habit of complimenting you like it was nothing. Whether out of pure lightheartedness or out of actual truthfulness, you could never tell.

"Hey, Rich. What are you doing here?" You asked. He shrugged.

"Meh. Got bored at my house, thought I'd hang with you," he replied. You laughed quietly before stepping aside.

"Well, then I guess you can come in. A call would have been nice though." You said. Richie walked in with a smile.

"Calls are for cowards." He replied. You shook your head before sighing and pulling your sleeves over your fists. You lightly closed the door before swallowing. Sure, Richie was an amazing friend who meant a lot to you, but it seemed he chose the worst time to show up. Although his heart was in the right place, Richie always made you ten times more aware of your flaws. Today was going to be a long day.

>> timeskip <<

The sun was slowly beginning to dip in the sky and you were growing increasingly nervous. Richie hadn't thought twice when you didn't have breakfast, but it seemed he grew suspicious when you refused lunch. Now, it was dinner time and he was making macaroni, something he knew you liked. You weren't sure how you could get out of it, or even if you could.

You watched as he scooped some into a bowl for you, the steam emanating from it. He picked it up and walked towards you, handing it to you with a smile. You returned it weakly, trying to make it as convincing as you could. He sat down next to you, turning towards the tv and beginning to eat.

You frowned, staring into the bowl. You grabbed the spoon and mulled around the noodles, watching the cheese slowly drip off. You looked away, your throat tight and dry. The movie on the television was one you didn't recognize, but you would gladly focus on it if it distracted you from eating.

Ten minutes had passed and you still hadn't touched the macaroni. Richie had already gotten up to get seconds and you found yourself extremely aware of how much food was still in your bowl. It seemed that every moment you didn't take a bite, the cheesy substance doubled, if not tripled.

You heard Richie sigh before turning and watching him stand up. He walked towards the tv and hit the power button, silencing the voices produced from the speakers. You watched him sit down, this time facing you instead of the screen.

"Okay (Y/n), what's up?" He asked. You raised your eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" You asked. Richie sighed before grabbing your macaroni.

"You haven't touched your food, and I know how much you love macaroni so don't try to say you don't. Plus, you haven't eaten anything all day. That's not like you." He replied, setting your bowl on the coffee table. You looked away from him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"I'm fine Richie. Honest." You whispered.

"(Y/n), don't lie to me. I know you." He said. You dropped your head.

"What do you want me to say, Richie?" You asked. You felt Richie move closer to you and grab your hands, causing your eyes to meet his.

"I want you to talk to me (Y/n). Tell me how you're really feeling." He said. You looked away, dropping his hands and pulling at your hair as tears began to fall from your eyes.

"It's so hard Richie. God, it's so hard." You cried, your voice beginning to crack. Richie adjusted his position so he could pull you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, afraid of letting him go as the tears began to pour, more intense than ever.

"I hate myself so much. Every time I look in the mirror I feel like screaming. I'm so fucking fat. I hate it so much..." You trailed off. You felt his arms wrap around you tighter.

"I wish you would have told me these things sooner. (Y/n), I know it must suck to look in the mirror and hate what you see, but god, you're so beautiful. You don't see it but I do. I love you so much and the numbers on the scale are just that. Numbers. You deserve the world (Y/n), don't sell yourself short just because of what you think you look like."

"Richie I-"

"Shhh. Listen to me. If you want to get healthier, stopping eating isn't the way to do it. And if you need help, I'm more than happy to do so. But please, know that you mean so much more than you think you do."

You closed your eyes and held him tighter. His words rendered you speechless, and you could only think of one thing to say.

"Thank you, Richie."