#richie post.

[monstyrigone]

@wihlted sent : [beg] sender makes receiver beg before giving them what they want. / HM . richie

she really picks the worst times to ask this much of him, like now, when they're tucked away in the single stall, open bathroom of a dive bar they only know about because rabies brought her here a few times to do much the same, roles reversed.

serena's got her hand down his pants, just over the cotton of his boxers, but her knuckles are pressed tight to the inside of the crotch of his jeans - she's not quite touching him yet.

ask me for it. use your pretty words.

she's been spending too much time with their boyfriend, learning how to torment him.

"oh god," the comedian whispers, his shoulders pushing tighter against the tile wall as his hands are trying to nudge his pants down further, even though it's only his belt that's undone.

he doesn't even realize he says it.

"p-please daddy i just want you to touch me--"

it's a slip of the tongue, a testament to the power she has over him in the moment as his head tips backward and he whimpers, hips trying to tuck forward so her hand is almost forced to make contact with his cock through the cotton fabric.

[monstyrious]

@hangtenn liked for a starter.

"well if you know so much about it why aren't you the one trying to fix all this, huh? cause right now it feels like i'm the only one working to try to get this whole fucking thing taken care of when it could be movin' a lot faster if you helped!"

[monstyrigone]

"it's gonna be okay. it'll take a while, it'll feel like shit, but it'll be okay in the end. how bad could it possibly be?"

@wihlted ♥

[monstyrigone]

"this has i'm a trap written all over it. so noooooo... not gonna do that."

@wihlted said : pretend you’re me.

[monstyrious]

@quad4xel liked for a starter.

"you just pop it like a... well like something you pop pretty easily. my brain's only really comin' up with an epipen to compare it to, but that doesn't really... that's not really easy to actually use." still, he's grinning like whatever he's said is marvelous, or like he's drunk so it doesn't matter what he's said, which is the more likely of the options when one looks at the four beer bottles and the empty highball glass on the table next to him.

[monstyrigone]

@wihlted gets some pain.

they've been gone, longer than he really wants to acknowledge. a year? year and a half? occasionally he hears from them, but it's so goddamn hard to exist without his people. so difficult, even with the tours that keep him busy during the days and early evenings, where nights are spent alone, staring at the ceiling and at the pictures that litter his phone's reels.

it had hurt for ben to point out the couple on his lock screen in the chinese restaurant almost as much as it had to find out the reason mike had called them all back wasn't just to meet and catch up. it had hurt so fucking bad because that photo was old, yet the newest one he had of them.

the suffering endured through the blur of days spent back in derry is immeasurable, incomparable to even the days spent chasing down life on the island that had brought them together. loss of two of his best friends. loss of the boy that had meant just as much to him as the two in the picture on the contact in his phone that his thumb hovers over.

click.

maybe, just maybe, rabies will deem it alright to talk, especially since richie is the one calling. no doubt they haven't heard shit about what happened, but he had sent a text each day updating the vampire on where he was.

driving out, arrived in town, going out to dinner with the losers, shit's gotten weird, fuck i'm so sorry i love you so much, please tell serena i love her more than anything, i'm home now.

ring. ring. ring. ring.

[monstyrious]

@echolaliia sent : i actually hate your guts. — beverly

"don't say that, bev," comes more as a plea than a command, his gaze nested down on the carpet that he's suddenly all too familiar with. the color a puked-on dark green that hides just about everything while simultaneously making every single thread visible, counted in his head to keep himself from letting his eyes get wetter, wetter still. it isn't working, because she's a loser. they're supposed to stick together through thick and thin, and she's saying she hates him.

they're supposed to love each other, but she says she hates his guts.

"why're you sayin' that?" not that he really wants to know. perhaps it's more of a goad to ask for an apology, instead.

[monstyrious]

@echolaliia liked for a starter -> beverly marsh.

"see what they don't know, is the old tozier charm works on just about everyone, whether they think about it or not." he's trying to be funny, if only to get her to offer up a faint smile out of mild annoyance. beep beep! is likely around the corner, but until he hears it, richie is going to keep going - keep prodding and trying to offer something a little bit better than whatever sinks itself into the pit of the other loser's stomach.

"if i have to push and push and push, i'll do it. until they give up whatever it is that's giving you that face longer than my d-" but he shuts up, because while she might not've said the safeword, someone in the back of his head has. his mother? bill? who knows, but their voice had been loud and clear when he'd been about to say something inappropriate and entirely unhelpful.

"... anyway." he moves to sit next to her now, the silliness mayhaps cosmically dissipating a little as he folds his hands and lets wrists hang at his knees, attention focused on her even though his gaze is on the floor beneath his legs. "what's eatin' bev marsh, huh? the swamp queen? the damsel causing distress?"