airplanes ❪ FINN WOLFHARD IMAGINES ❫

( 016 ) sixteen! { r. tozier }

warning: mentions of abuse and blood so if you get queasy, you might wanna skip some parts

you were watching your favorite movie, the breakfast club, on a saturday night. you were home alone because your dad had a late shift. your parents had divorced, so your dad had packed up and taken you with him to derry, maine. he took all the shifts he could get to bring in more money. you liked your father because he was a good one. he was smart, funny, caring-everything a dad should be and nothing like your good friend beverly's dad.

you had moved to derry a little over seven months ago, and in those seven months, you'd done things you never had before. for one, you had a group of friends who weren't backstabbers, and you had earned the title 'loser' along with them in your little 'loser's club'. you had also gotten yourself a boyfriend who genuinely cared for you and didn't treat you like garbage. oh, and the fact that you and the rest of the losers had fought a killer clown, and no matter how hard you tried to forget, it would always appear in your nightmares. your dad knew you had night terrors, but you knew he'd never believe you if you told him the real reason. you also couldn't forget about the large, badly-healed scar on your right palm, from when your friend, bill, had asked everyone to promise to come back if it came back. running the scar when you were nervous had become a bad habit.

your attention was diverted to the outside world when you heard booming thunder. you unconsciously rubbed your scar as you thought about your dad. you hoped he wouldn't get hurt driving in the rain.

a knock sounded at the door, and you jumped, the remote next to your leg bouncing to the floor. you ran to the window closest to the door and saw your boyfriend leaning weakly against the door frame. he knocked again, hand falling back down to his side almost instantly. "y/n," he called breathlessly, "it's me, richie."

you rushed to open it and he nearly stumbled to the floor. you caught him, but just barely. he was covered in bruises, and cuts that oozed blood. his lip was bleeding and swollen, and he had a cut down the side of his face.

"oh god, baby, what happened?" you asked frantically as you half-carried him to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet.

"ran into bowers," he said thickly through the blood. you gently removed his famous hawaiian shirt, keeping the white undershirt on. more bruises littered his skin on his shoulders and upper arms. they looked faded, as if they'd been there for a while. "those are from my parents," he answered your unspoken question. "i don't think they like me very much." he gave a dry laugh, then winced. your breath hitched.

"richie, you need to tell someone!" you exclaimed, reaching under the sink for the rubbing alcohol. you wet a cloth and whispered a warning before softly pressing it to his cheek. he flinched at the sting, and you hastily apologized repeatedly.

"that will give them a bigger reason to want to kill me, because people will ask, and they'll deny it, and everyone will assume that i was lying. besides, i just told you."

you shook your head, and began to wipe off the now drying blood on his face and arms. "that's not how it works, richie. your parents are hitting you, that's illegal." you lifted his head up slightly to reach the cuts on his chin. your boyfriend's hands slip up your thighs all the way to your waist. blushing slightly, you gave him a look, but said nothing and continued to clean him up.

you finished about ten minutes later, and his hands never left your body the entire time. you were still worried about him, though, because he'd never been this quiet for so long. "does it hurt?" you finally asked. "do you need a pain killer?" richie shook his head.

"i'm okay now that i'm with you, hot stuff," he winked, and your face felt warm once more. making sure he was okay once more, you helped him put back on his shirt, stand and led him to the living room, where your movie was still playing. richie sat and you curled up next to him, trying not to put too much pressure on him. your fingers were messing with the hem of the brightly coloured shirt. both of his hands rested on your hip. "you can put more weight on me, y/n," he assured you. "i'm not a fragile doll."

"to me you are," you said delicately. "you get into so many fights all the time and i'm always cleaning you up. i don't mind that, i really don't, but what if, one day, you get really hurt and you can't make it home?"

"guess i'll just have to get in fights closer to your house," he joked, taking off his glasses and pulling you close. you loved his glasses, but you'd always thought he looked hot without them. you didn't laugh at his attempt of being funny.

"rich, i'm serious. you get into fights with henry bowers, or your parents, and not to mention that one time in the sewers with pennywise?" you said it like a question. "i'm just scared that one day you'll end up dead."

richie pulled you onto him, so that you were straddling his waist, and he looked into your solemn, worry-filled eyes. "listen here, hot stuff," he said, seriously. "i promise you that i am not going anywhere anytime soon. i promise that i will never leave you. besides," he smirked, his old demeanor returning, "who else will be the trashmouth of this shitty town? and who else will do this?" he pulled you down and connected your lips to his. you instantly kissed back, your fingers snaking through his hair. his fingers gripped your waist tightly.

"richie," you gasped, breaking away from the make out a few seconds later. the ghost of his lips traveled against tour neck and you could barely concentrate on your words. "richie, m-my dad will be home soon," you managed to spit out.

"he knows about me, right?"

"well, yeah, but i don't think he knows that we've kissed." your boyfriend sighed in a defeated sort of way, and allowed you to climb off of him. "besides, you're still hurt. speaking of which, can you please stay the night? i don't want you going back to those awful people, especially in the dark." he nodded, and you positioned yourself in your original cuddling place, attention turning back to the movie that had been playing the whole time.

nearly twenty minutes later, your soft snoring caught richie's attention. he put his glasses back on, turned the t.v. off, and carried you up to your room. he laid you on the bed, and quickly changed into some of the clothes you had stolen from him, and clambered in next to you.

you stirred and sleepily moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, the two of you facing each other. wrapped safely in your arms, richie dozed off as well.

later that night, your dad came home from work. "y/n? where are you?" he walked to your room and saw you with richie, wrapped in each others embrace, the ghost of a smile on your face. your dad chuckled softly and headed to his own room.

around midnight that night, y/d/n was awoken by screams of terror. you had a nightmare again. your dad rushed out of his room, but by the time he reached you, your screams had faded, and richie was holding you. his forehead was touching yours, and he was whispering sweet things into your ear. your dad didn't know what he was saying (richie's voice was much too soft), but he smiled because he knew his daughter was in good, capable hands.

this was the side of richie no one ever really saw, and you wished he would show it more often. he wasn't just derry, maine's trashmouth. he was your soulmate, whether those were real or not. you were his and that's all what the both of you needed.

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oof hi :)

did the last sentence make sense? idk

enjoy this chapter also don't kill me for the whirlwind of emotions i am sure you experienced. bc if u kill me then no more imagines :(

love all of you!