It Imagines/Preferences

T O Z I E R

After dark, the creatures of the night come out to play.

Children of all ages huddle in a cocoon of blankets, their safety net. Surprisingly, that's what keeps the monsters away. Their blanket is their shield of light, and all things good. Anything good is something the monsters can't compete with. The monster under your bed slinks back down below, and waits another night for your shield to slip.

The club opens up for the night. The bartender eyes a middle aged man who is unhealthily eyeing a young lady sitting by herself. She looks terribly nervous, and he finishes making an Angel Shot before talking to her.

"Are you okay?" Sometimes, it's the small things that make a big differences. She gives him a nervous smile, but her eyes flicker around the room.

"Yeah, yeah I should be. I just feel sick and I thought my friend was coming to-to get me but I guess she isn't." She looks downcast, and he recognises a victim of drugs from miles away. She's swaying in her seat, and he sees the man from before walk over.

"Well, hello-" He doesn't get to finish his sentence.

"She's not interested." The bartender cuts in. The man looks angry.

"What'd you mean? You didn't let me-" He's cut off again.

"I said, she's not interested." The man growls before walking away. The woman looks at him.

"Why'd you do that? He seemed nice." She decides drowsily.

"He wasn't. I'm ordering you a taxi home. Have a safe night, ma'am." He just met his wife.

There's half a dozen parties going on across town. At one of the parties, there's someone getting raped. No one is stopping it, and instead the girl is being encouraged. The boy is drugged, and passed out.

The losers club is at a party, but they feel they should be the children in bed, safe and sound. They aren't, and drinks have been pushed into their hands and they've been seperated over the mass of bodies and loud, pounding music.

Y/n can hear someone calling her name. She thinks. There's something about every song that makes her think someone is calling her name. Then she sees Richie's head pop up over the throng of people. Richie's lanky figure looms over most people. She smiles at him when he makes his way over to her.

"Hey, Richie-Roo." She laughs. Richie takes the red cup out of her hand and sniffs it.

"Jesus, Y/n, what is this? This is fucking disgusting, fucks sake. You're drunk? This must be fucking strong, or you're just weak. Come on, we're getting out of here." Then Richie is pulling her towards the exit, stopping briefly to have a quick chat with our favourite introverts, Stan and Bill. (HOLY FUCK I JUST REALISED IT RHYMES WITH DAN AND PHIL AND I JUST-)

"I didn't drink, so I'm driving. I thought we agreed on not drinking, damn it." Richie courteously opens the door for her, and helps her climb in. It's only once their pulling up outside her house that she realises she's not at the party.

"Wh-Why aren't we at the party? What happened? Did it burn down?" She gasps, and Richie carries her bridal style through her house. Her parents adore him, but they're out on one of their many social events.

"No, it didn't burn down. We just got bored." Richie found himself folding back the blankets on her bed and tucking her in. Then he was staring into wide, doe eyes.

"Don't leave, Richie! Tell me more about the burnt down party." She waves lazily and he realises he wants more than anything to do just that. He places himself gingerly on the edge of her bed, his ass half way off the mattress.

"No, no, no! Come here!" She manages to swing to the blankets back and there's a huge gap. A Richie size gap. He knows she's drunk and he knows that he'd be taking advantage of her. He doesn't slide in beside her, but instead pulls up her desk chair closer to the bed and sits there.

"Please." She pouts, and Richie's stomach lurches. He doesn't know why.

"Maybe next time, princess." She giggles.

"You just called me a princess!" Richie smiles wryly.

"I guess I did. You better get some rest." Richie pulls up the covers, and proceeds to tuck the teenager in. She'll be safe from any monsters now, even him. As Richie is on his way out the door, he hears her whispering.

"Now I know why Bev says you're my soulmate. Night, Richie-Roo."

He sleeps on her couch, and can't seem to find it in him to leave her. He knows why this time, and when she wakes up, puzzled to find him on the couch, he just smiles. Maybe tomorrow he'll make his move, maybe he won't.