DECENT (richie tozier + reader)

015

• dreams - fleetwood mac •

"so my dearest daughter, can i ask what is he doing here?"

the laughs went off as y/f/n sit properly on his lay-z-boy, and gave you both a stern look, giving his a protective father vibe. richie's breath hitched, he was a little nervous.

"he's got a pretty ugly scrape on his leg dad," you said, pointing on his leg.

you dad raised an eyebrow then asked, "and what do you have to do with that?"

"he was just riding me home dad and-"

"your daughter's just too beautiful and i can't help but to stare at her, sir. it's kind of her fault, that's why." richie blurted out.

your dad smirked, he kind of thought it was a good thing to hear. he nodded, not wanting to interfere that much because he knows how much it annoys you, especially when your mom nag you too much, then proceeded watching on his favorite television. 

"you both better keep it clean there hunny." y/f/n let out a muttered laugh under his breath.

your face got all flushy, trying not to look at richie 'cause you're pretty sure he's got a smirk painted on his face. you gestured at richie to follow you into the bathroom, leaving him still staring at your father trying not to blush. 

you went in the common bathroom that visitors used when they visit or stay-in for a while. (yeah very obvious lmao) you opened the small cabinet inside the bathroom near the door, it's where you keep most of your emergency stuff aside from your room.

richie walked inside and see grabbing lots of things inside the cabinet. there's a plastic of cottons, tweezers, hydrogen peroxide, povidone-iodine and a neosporin on the counter. "woah, sweetcheeks. isn't this too much for our first time-"

"shut up richard."

"oh i thought you're gonna call me richie now-"

"just shut up." your blush was still not washing off your face. "remove your shoes, there's a pair of clean slippers under the sink. use them and wash your wound on the tub." 

richie quickly followed your orders, trying not to let out another word. scared of you getting mad at him.

but duh! it's still richie. "it's just a small scrape, doll! i'll live." he sighed, but still sitting on the side of the tub washing the wound on his leg. not showing he winced when he applied some soap on it and he bit his lower lip trying not to let out a whimper.

"germs, richie. germs. it may look small but it can infect your-"

"god you sound like eddie now!" he laughed. rolling your eyes, you left him to grab some small towels.

you went back then wash your hands on the sink.

"are you gonna give me a long ass speech about how i could get aids from having a scrape on my legs too?" richie said as he finished off cleaning his wound.

"no richie." you sighed then gave him the towel and grab a small stool then sit on it.

"keep calling me richie, i like it. but i like you more." he winked. he closed the toilet seat then sit on it. "you gotta keep calling me that especially in bed- ow!"

without warning you pulled richie's leg to sit it on top of your lap then poured the hydrogen peroxide on the wound. after a few seconds, you used the tweezers the grab some cotton, pouring some povidone-iodine on it, carefully tapping it on richie's wounded skin.

"i promise to be quiet, sweetcheeks. just don't add too much pressure on-"

"start now." richie quickly closed his lips. you examine his wounds carefully, making sure there's no stuck small sizes of rocks in it or whatever.

you blow it gently to make it dry off faster. richie felt his heart flutter when you're doing that, he don't even know why. he thought it was cute. no. everything you do is cute, especially when you worry about him and take care of him. his forced his eyes to wandered around the bathroom, he could feel the heat rising up his cheeks.

"i'm going to touch your wound-"

"what?! nO!"

"i'm gonna need to apply some neosporin on it!" you shout back.

"don't! blowing it off is enough!" he said, trying to remove his leg off your lap but refusing it so you're holding it down.

"richie." you calmly said as you try to give him your sternest look.

"fine, fine." richie let out a sigh before relaxing his leg on your lap. god! he doesn't even know if you could let him control in bed, if that ever happens.

you squeezed the bottle to get the right amount of the cream on your pointing finger. you spread it gently onto the scrape on his leg.

you leaned back to you small chair and let out a sigh of satisfaction. "done!" you stand up, picking up the chair and placing it on beside the tub. richie helped you cleaning up some stuff that were used.

you both walk out of the bathroom, kind of awkwardly because richie's going home and has to say a goodbye to your father. as they walk, y/f/n also stood up from the living room seeing you two.

"goin' home already, kid?" he asks. 

"yes, sir. my momma might kill me if i'm not home by now. . ." richie trailed off as he look the clock on the wall. it's already five-thirty but seven o'clock is his curfew, he was planning to go to the arcade before going home.

"you could stay and eat with us, kid. i know your mother, maggie, we were in the same math class in third grade, son. i could call her up for you." you dad offered. your eyes widen as those words slip through his mouth.

your mom would be mad as hell. she doesn't like any of the guys you were hanging out with, except for stan, especially richie. you don't even know why she hated his guts. maybe she's just too much a conservative or a church person. but isn't a sin to spread fake gossips about a person with her amigas?

"call mrs. tozier, dad. i'll heat up the chicken pastel i made last night." you smiled. actually, you don't really mind richie eating dinner with your family. besides, you've never invited any "friends" (i almost forgot the "plastics") in your house except for the losers and richie alone. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

when the time y/n called richie's name "calmly". it wasn't. so don't fool yourselves >:(( it was like a professor dumbledore to harry. lmao.

stay safe everyone! 1 !