losers club ↹ imagines | completed

I Can't Believe You've Done This ↹ Richie Tozier

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Female!Reader
Prompt: "Can I get a Richie tozier x reader with #7 on the angst prompt list?? Thanks love!! ❤️" tumblr anon requested (you don't get to say anything after what you did, you broke my heart.)
Warnings: angst!!!!! aged up to 17/18, underaged drinking & mentions weed/being high. and cheating. sigh. not a happy ending ;(
Word Count: 847
Pronouns: SHE/HER
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Going to a party was not (Y/N)'s definition of fun, and the only reason she was even there is because her friend, Bill, was throwing the party. His parents and younger brother were out for the weekend so he had to have a party, and he wanted all his friends to be there. She didn't like the party scene, but there was no way she could tell her stuttering friend no. That, and her boyfriend Richie practically begged her to go. It was their senior year as she still had never been to a party, he insisted she go.

(Y/N) didn't mean to hide out in Bill's room, but that's where she ended up. The entire house smelled like alcohol and weed, aside from this room. All she wanted was to lay down next to Richie and sleep until morning, but she knew she couldn't. The best thing to do was to go out and try to enjoy herself surrounded by mass amounts of drunk and high teenagers.

"Mike have you seen Richie?" (Y/N) touched her friend's shoulder, trying to get his attention. He has a drink in his hand but she was sure he wasn't totally drunk.

"I haven't seen him, but Bev probably has," Mike half-heartedly answered, seeming kind of hesitant to tell her. But still, he gestured to Bill's basement door, which is exactly where Beverly would be.

The basement was full of the ones who decided that smoking pot would be fun. In (Y/N)'s opinion, they were all dumb and she was ready to laugh when they inevitably get caught. The beloved Beverly was not hard to spot, sitting in the circle of people in the middle of the floor. Her hair bright red stuck out against the dimly lit room.

"Do you know where Richie is?" Her voice was shaky when asking, clearly nervous now. It shouldn't be so hard to find him, he's the Trashmouth for Christ's sake. Someone had to be yelling at him somewhere.

"I saw him with Greta Keene about fifteen minutes ago," Beverly was definitely completely high, and probably slightly drunk, but (Y/N) was going to take her word for it. God, she really hated parties.

She could feel the anxiety pooling in her stomach as she pushed through the bodies of the teenagers. At this point they all just felt like obstacles when it came to finding her boyfriend. God only knows what he could be doing with the likes of Greta, she had a good idea of what it could be but didn't want to think about that.

(Y/N) and Greta never got along, it started when they were nine and Greta put gum in (Y/N)'s hair and then she hit Greta across the face. Since then, they've been out for each other. Greta never liked Richie, but if it were to get at (Y/N), Greta would do anything.

It only took five minutes for her to spot Greta Keene's blond hair with the same pink scrunchie she's worn since the eight grade, standing right in front of Richie. She didn't need to see his face to know it was him, she would be able to see his unbrushed dark curly hair from anywhere. He was clearly intoxicated, Richie was always a complete lightweight. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that Greta was kissing him. Her mood dropped down to lower than she believed it could, and all she wanted was to go home.

"Richie," (Y/N)'s voice was loud and sadness was evident, "I want to go home. Now, please."

Hearing her voice sound so sad immediately caused him to sober up, as if he hadn't drank at all in the first place. He pushed Greta aside and looked at his girlfriend, who looked even more upset than she sounded. "Okay."

The two left the party and got into Richie's car. They sat there for a moment before (Y/N) spoke, "I don't think it would be a good idea for us to date anymore. I don't want to hear you defend yourself, you don't get to say anything after what you did, you broke my heart." Her words were filled with hesitation but got the point across. She was breaking up with Richie.

"Okay," was once again all Richie managed to get out before starting the car. His heart was in his stomach, he felt like he was about to throw up. His whole world was crashing down before him in his tattered old car, with music playing being the playlist he put together for her.

(Y/N) was ready to get out of the car without a word, as she was still crying severely, when Richie grabbed onto her hand. "I'm sorry. I love you. Goodnight, bugaboo." He used the cheesy nickname he gave her in hopes of her forgiving him. He wanted to hear her call him by his nickname, to show things were still okay.

"Goodbye, Richie. Thanks for the ride." She didn't, because things weren't okay.