#and when she feels the wind and the adrenaline while backpacking on Eddie's bike she swears she fell in love (and bought a bike of her own)

[thechosenanubis]

Jerome and Eddie would be motorbikes buddies.

[heytherejulietx]

hey! i don’t know if i sent this before but could you write a richie x reader where reader protects the losers from bowers? and she gets injured but doesn’t show it until she passes out?

bowers - richie tozier

↳ i hope this turned out alright for you nonnie! 🤍

↳ content warnings - violence, bullying, injury mention, blood, swearing, sex jokes, aged up losers.

↳ 3.5k word count

↳ masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @mikewheelerc join my tag list

y/n decided that she absolutely detested her english teacher.

it was one of the last days of school before summer, and yet she’d been kept back for an extra hour to tutor some asshole in her class who hadn’t even been bothered to read their set text for that month (to be fair, richie also hadn’t read the text, but she supposed he wasn’t as much of an asshole because she loved him. boyfriend perks or some shit. and she also wasn’t staying back to tutor him, too). so whilst the rest of the losers had been let out of school she had to wait until she could catch up with them after. so she hated her english teacher and by extension the idiot that she had to tutor.

she’d had one good tutoring experience, and that was because richie genuinely needed help writing a history paper. it was only good because they got ten minutes in before they forgot the essay completely and ended up making out in his bedroom for the rest of the “tutor session”. richie had said they spent their time well and he didn’t regret it when his paper was graded poorly, and y/n smacked the back of his head. it was his fault they ended up making out in the first place. obviously.

so when four o’clock rolled around y/n left the practically empty school with a scowl on her face. her bike - usually surrounded by the bikes of the rest of the losers - stood alone as she walked towards it and unlocked the bike chain before she got on and rode off away from the school. richie had said to find them by the clubhouse, but as much as she loved him, she took stan’s word that they’d probably be by the local park instead. stan usually had the best idea of what was going on.

after a little while of peddling through derry y/n found herself approaching the park with a sigh of relief. she was tired and honestly wouldn’t mind listening to richie and eddie bickering like an old married couple for the next however long. she’d have preferred it to tutoring the asshole. though as she came to the edge of the street she screeched her bike to a stop, spotting the losers on the other side of the street with bowers in front of them.

from where she was stood she couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but she could see richie stood right in front of bowers yelling something about “shouldn’t you be off blowing your cousin” and beverly stood beside him, hands on her hips as she glared bowers down. bill was stood behind richie, trying (and failing) to get him to back down, with eddie on his other side with an inhaler in hand. stan stood shuffling on his feet nervously beside mike, whilst ben was keeping an eye on beverly.

y/n got off of her bike and stood it up against the wall of some building beside her as she frowned at the scene. she hurriedly searched henry’s hands for any sign of his knife and was thoroughly surprised when she didn’t see it. until she noticed it peeking out from his back pocket.

memories of seeing ben’s scar on his stomach for the first time made her glower at the back of henry’s head, angry at the thought of him hurting any of the other losers again.

she spotted an empty glass bottle on the floor and without thinking lifted it up and hurled it through the air towards bowers. it shattered against his upper back and the shouting went silent as they all turned to face her, bowers with a murderous glare on his face.

“hey bowers!” she shouted, hands on her hips, matching bev’s stance. “what’s it gonna take for you to chop that mullet off, dude? shit’s fuckin’ ugly man!”

although y/n wasn’t completely alike her boyfriend (mostly in the sense that she could calm down if she wanted to, and richie was constantly at a state of maximum energy at any given point) they were alike in their mannerisms if y/n really got going. she maybe even had bigger balls than he did, as stan once pointed out. she didn’t shy away from conflict - she probably ended up making it worse sometimes, to be honest.

she didn’t look away from bowers but she could feel eight pairs of eyes on her. though the death glare that she was defiantly staring back at was definitely the strongest. she’d maybe even be a little bit scared if she wasn’t too pissed off to care.

as bowers started crossing the street towards her, shouting nasty and horrible things her way, y/n sent a look towards stan and bill and nodded in the opposite direction. they needed to get the losers away before it kicked off with bowers, because she knew that richie and bev would be eager to get themselves involved too. the whole point of distracting bowers was so they wouldn’t be.

stan and bill had hands on the other losers arms, and from where she was stood she heard something close to “she’ll lose him then meet us around the corner“. once she was sure that the boys had it covered she faced henry again, stepping back a little as he got closer though she didn’t lose her glare.

“what the fuck are you playing at?” bowers spat, stopping directly in front of her. she could see small shards of glass sticking in his hair and inwardly smirked to herself.

“the bully act is a little old, isn’t it? you’re pathetic.” she stood her ground with as much ferocity he had, momentarily forgetting about the knife he had, though it was quickly brought to her attention when it was taken out of his back pocket and the tip was pointed at her.

y/n stumbled back a little on instinct, though tried to keep her stance the same. bowers was slowly closing in on her - she only had so much pavement left behind her before a wall. though just as he raised it to send a slash her way, she spotted blue lights in the distance and smirked.

“i’d watch it, bowers,” she nodded in the direction of the sheriff’s cruiser, knowing fully well that his father was in the car. “wouldn’t want daddy catching you with a big-boy blade.”

the cop car drove right down their street and past them, and y/n thought that it would be okay to turn and walk away with a final gesture of her middle finger his way.

big mistake.

she got a few steps away as the cruiser went down the street, though she didn’t take into account that bowers might come at her again. just as she glanced down the street, wondering what side street the losers could have taken to get away, she felt a hand grab the strap of her backpack and yanked her backwards onto the floor, winding her with a wheeze as she landed on the pavement. as she tried to forcefully drag in a breath of air she could see bowers towered over her, blade still in hand, and panicked. he had a fucking knife and she was laying on her back, defenceless.

her hand reached out beside her to grab the first thing she could on the floor and when her fingers circled around one of the larger shards of glass from the bottle she threw mere minutes before she swiped at him with it, taking his moment of leaning back away from it to scramble up to her feet.

“the fuck is your problem, man?” she wheezed, still somewhat winded, now sounding like eddie. she could feel her heart beating out of her chest, almost painfully thumping against her ribcage.

instead of an answer bowers pushed her back again and she landed on the floor once more, the shard of glass falling from her hand. breathing through her teeth, knowing she didn’t have enough time to stand up again since bowers was so close, she rolled onto her stomach to reach and grab the shard of glass, planning to turn back towards bowers to defend herself.

y/n misjudged how long that would take, because before she could turn back around she felt a sudden pain to the back of her leg, along with the sound of her jeans tearing. fuck, did he cut her? if he did he probably didn’t do it very deep because it didn’t hurt terribly bad. y/n still yelped in surprise, though, and kicked him away before she got to her feet again, glass in hand again.

the knife he was holding was coated in blood and it made her feel sick to stare at him, a sadistic fucking smile on his face. y/n would honestly rather have tea with michael meyers over that.

thinking on her feet she threw the glass at him and managed to hit him in the face. bowers groaned in pain and immediately covered the spot with his hand, and y/n wasted no time in turning to run away from him.

through being winded twice the drags of air she took in were audible and wheezy, hurting her throat and chest with every intake of breath. she debated on tackling eddie for his inhaler when she saw him. her shoes slapped against the pavement loudly as she ran down the street and down the first alleyway she saw, hoping the losers were somewhere close. she could already feel herself tiering, and she didn’t want bowers catching up to her again when she had less energy. she’d be much worse off.

thankfully the losers were quite literally right in front her, as when she had turned to run down another side street she collided with richie and almost sent them both tumbling down, if not for mike and ben who managed to hold the both of them up.

“fucking hell-“ she was still wheezing, gripping onto richie’s ugly shirt in tight fists once she was back on her feet. “are you guys okay?”

“we should be asking you that, holy fuck,” richie’s eyes were wide as he held onto her arms to keep her steady. “you sound like eddie.” he added, ignoring the complaint behind his back at the comment.

with richie keeping his hands on her arms bev rubbed her back from where she was stood on her left side, eyes kept on her face. y/n had momentarily forgotten about the cut on her leg because the rush of adrenaline she was feeling kept her from noticing it, and she was wearing black jeans so the blood wouldn’t really show on the material.

“i’m okay,” she nodded, breathing slowly but surely becoming an easier task as she continued to hang off of richie’s shirt, which he seemed like he didn’t mind. “i’m fine.”

“badass taking on bowers like that,” eddie commented, earning a chuckle from the rest of the losers. “i don’t think anybody else would have actually done it.”

“hey!” richie complained, turning to face eddie though he kept a hand on y/n’s arm. “i totally could have done that.”

“no offence rich, but i do have bigger balls than you.” y/n poked him in the chest and earned a playful glare in return.

as richie and eddie started arguing like usual y/n blinked a few times. the adrenaline was wearing off, and the supposed scratch on the back of her leg grew more and more painful the longer she stood there. she grimaced, eyebrows furrowing slightly as she inhaled deeply through her nose. the back of her thigh felt oddly warm, like warm water was running down her leg, though she immediately dismissed the idea that it was blood. no, she’d know if it was that serious. she couldn’t have run all that way with a deep cut in her leg, could she?

“y/n?” she blinked a few times and looked up, meeting stan’s concerned gaze in front of her, soon followed by the rest of the losers taking suit. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she exhaled deeply, attempting to step forwards, though the movement was so wobbly that immediately richie grabbed one of her forearms to keep her steady. “just peachy, stan-the-man. i think i just need to sit down…” she attempted to step forwards again, though this time the wobbling was more prominent, and she fell right towards stanley as her eyes rolled back.

-

“fuck!” richie had immediately reached forwards in the attempt to catch her before she fell on stanley, and with the help of stan and mike he managed to lower her to the floor.

“oh my god!” eddie was shrill with panic, taking in worried breaths already. “bowers killed y/n!”

“she’s not dead you fucking idiot!” stan yelled back, though his face was pale with worry too.

richie tried to block the bickering out when bev and mike joined too as he crouched beside her, hands a little shaky as he tried to check her over for any injuries, ben doing the same from where he stood. he couldn’t see anything, though a puddle of blood forming underneath her left thigh spoke for itself, and immediately he was panicking too.

“fuck! eddie her leg!” richie was shouting too, hoping eddie knew something about what the fuck was going on due to his extensive medical knowledge.

eddie crouched on the floor beside her leg, gritting his teeth to hold back the willing heave from the sight of blood as he tried to see what had happened. with the help of bev who lifted her leg up, eddie gasped and almost made richie go into cardiac arrest.

“what?! what is it?! is her leg falling off or something?!” now he was sounding like eddie.

“bowers cut her-“ eddie almost heaved again though swallowed it down to speak again. “it’s bad. she needs to get to the hospital she’s losing a fuck ton of blood.”

“fuck-“ richie felt nauseous with worry, and his hands shook as one moved to her cheek, shaking her slightly as if she would wake up. when she continued just to lay there he pulled off his shirt with trembling fingers and leaned over her body towards her leg. “she needs something tied to stop the blood flow, right?” he spoke quickly as he looked up at eddie, who had his hands clamped over his mouth as he tried to keep from throwing up. “RIGHT?” he yelled, impatient.

eddie nodded frantically as his hand dug into his fanny pack for his inhaler and richie wasted no time in wrapping his shirt around her leg, and tied a knot tightly above the cut, not bothered by the blood staining it. once it was tied beverly lowered her leg back down to the floor.

all of the losers had the same sort of expression on their faces; shock. whether it was shown through wheezing like eddie or standing as still as a statue like stan, they all had the same almost ghostly look to their expression.

“there’s a phone booth down the street, i’ll go call an ambulance.” bev announced before she took off running in the direction of the phone.

richie sat back on his heels, pretending his hands weren’t stained with his girlfriends blood as he took her hand and sat it in her lap. he could feel his heart thumping against his ribs and just prayed that the ambulance would get there soon.

-

y/n blinked almost furiously under the sudden harsh light, it hurt her head to look at it. the bed she was laying in was uncomfortable and the room smelt like disinfectant. eddie better not have cleaned my room again, she thought. the last time he had done it was because she had a stomach bug and “the germs could spread and get everyone sick!“, so she didn’t see why he had reason to do it now.

once her eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the room she glanced around and was suddenly taken aback by where she was; the hospital.

y/n immediately sat up, suddenly wide awake, though she flinched when she felt something grab her hand and turned to see what it was, thoughts of bowers and his blood-coated knife flashing in her mind. though she relaxed slightly when she saw richie sat there instead, his hand over hers.

“it’s not even summer yet and you’re already having adventures. look at you go.” his teasing voice filled the room, though she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t completely carefree like usual.

y/n smiled a little as she leaned back against the pillows of her bed and shrugged. “what can i say? i’m just way cooler than you.” she teased as she moved her fingers gently against his to link them together.

richie scoffed in mock offence though a moment later he’d leaned forwards, his other hand over their linked ones. “you feel okay?” his voice was soft and genuine, a tone she only ever heard from richie when they were alone.

she blinked a few times at the question, and suddenly the pain in her leg had registered and she winced. “my leg hurts.”

“i’d expect so after bowers fucking sliced you open,” richie grumbled. he looked angry and concerned and different. y/n rarely saw him so serious. “when i see him next i’m going to kill him.”

“no, rich,” y/n shook her head, frowning a little as she squeezed his hand a little firmer. “i’m okay. just leave it. it’ll get worse.”

richie sighed though nodded, his gaze focused on their interlocked hands. y/n waited another moment before she shuffled over on the bed (and grit her teeth to suppress the grunt of pain from moving her leg, which richie picked up on anyways) before she pat the bed beside her and tugged on richie’s arm. “in.”

“not the first time you’ve said that.” richie snorted as he stood up, and let go of her hand so he could climb onto the bed beside her. once he had settled comfortably against the pillows y/n tucked herself into his side, and closed her eyes once her head had dropped against his shoulder.

after a moment she could feel the tips of richie’s fingers dragging up and down her arm, tracing invisible patterns along her skin. his lips pressed to the crown of her head and in return she gently left a kiss to his collarbone with a quiet hum, though kept her eyes closed.

“you didn’t have to put yourself in harms away for us today,” richie mumbled. “i totally could have handled it.” he added jokingly, not able to stay serious for long.

“oh i’m sure,” y/n smirked slightly before she shook her head and sighed. “i saw the knife in his back pocket and thought of ben and what he did to him. i couldn’t imagine him doing that again to any of you. i’d do anything for you guys,” her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, and when she looked up richie was already looking at her. “especially you.” she added, almost silent.

richie brought his tree hand up and brushed some hair out of his face as he looked at her, surprisingly not cracking a joke or even a smirk that time. instead his expression was soft; a rarity for sure. his gaze softened and he had a half-smile that made y/n almost swoon, despite being in a hospital bed.

“that means a lot,” richie told her genuinely. “i just don’t like seeing you get hurt, doll.”

“i know, but i’m okay.” she insisted, sitting up a little against his side as she looked at him.

“you’re almost okay,” he corrected, as his fingers tapped against the thigh of the leg that was hurt. “just don’t throw yourself in front of bowers for us again, okay?”

“‘kay. promise.” she smiled, and her eyes closed shut again when richie pressed a soft, loving kiss to her lips.

“as much as i’d love to enjoy this moment,” richie pulled away, his usual smirk back on his face. “eddie is probably outside going through his third inhaler, and stan’s hair probably dropped out from stress.”

y/n laughed and shook her head, though she knew richie really wasn’t far off.

almost as if the losers had heard them, the door opened so quickly and with so much force that it slammed against the wall beside it, revealing (surely) eddie hugging his inhaler and stan looking sick with stress, followed by the other losers.

“yo stan, you look like you just saw under eddie’s mom’s skirt.” richie called over, and immediately eddie was cursing at him as he stepped forwards.

y/n giggled to herself as she tucked against richie’a side, watching the usual bickering start up again. back to normal, she thought to herself.