80s/90s imagines + preferences

castle rock // chris chambers (pt. 1)

Having just moved to a small town in the middle of nowhere in Oregon, you were pretty pissed.
It was the second day of summer, the year was 1959, and honestly, the first day of that summer had been the worst of your life. You'd said goodbye to the only world you knew. All of your closest friends. You, like I said, were angry.
Walking on the street in your gently colored green dress, white lace socks, and buckled shoes your mother had forced you to wear, and your better liked, more tomboyish clothes in your bag, you never felt more annoyed.
The town itself wasn't all that bad. There was a diner, a solid amount of woods where you could explore, and a ton of little shops and restaurants. Plus, there were some boys your age that seemed like they'd be nice to be friends with. You had seen them just the other day, walking together to the treehouse up on a hill that overlooked the town.
There were four boys, one was rather short and a bit pudgy, he was wearing a blue, white, and red striped shirt and he had rosy pink cheeks. Another, who you could immediately tell was trouble, wore a green shirt with a dog tag necklace and messy hair. He seemed to be very energetic and would pretend to be shooting a gun every once in a while. The next boy, a lanky kid with a red striped shirt and whitewashed jeans was holding a notebook and was walking with the last boy.
The last boy really caught your eye. He was attractive, no doubt about it, but he also had this kindness about him. He was very gentle looking and seemed to be protective of the other boys in the group.
As you thought about them, walking along in your uncomfortable dress and ponytail, you heard a loud gunshot and a clash of metal.

"JESUS!"

Two boys came rushing out of a nearby alleyway, the one behind Blue Point Diner, holding sleeping bags. One of them wielded a pistol. A .45, to be exact. Your mother had always hated the fact that you knew so many "boyish" things, but you didn't care.
Without noticing, one of the boys had pushed you down, which snapped you out of your trance.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry!"
You reached for your wire rimmed glasses, another thing your mother hated, as she wanted you to get cat-eyes like so many of the girls in your grade, and felt someone's hand touch yours, giving you your glasses.
"Here," you heard a voice say, and as you put the now bent glasses back on, you realized that it was the same kid from the hill... the one you thought was cute.
"Sorry about that. I- uh, I wasn't really looking where I was going." He held out a hand.
"It's alright," you said, taking his hand. It was warm and calloused.
He pulled you to your feet and introduced himself.
"I'm Chris Chambers, and this is Gordie Lachance."
You smiled, brushing off your dress.
"I'm y/n, nice to meet you."
"You too, sweetheart. Hey, wanna come to the treehouse? You seem pretty cool."
Gordie gave Chris an odd look.
"Yeah definitely."
Just then, you saw a hand reach over Gordie and pull off his hat, a worn, old, Yankees cap.
"Hey girls, where're you goin'?" You turned to see a teenager with a strange scar by his eye next to a taller teenager who looked mean.
"Hey, come on man, my brother gave me that!" You could hear the pain in Gordie's voice and assumed the worst about his brother.
"And now, you's givin' it to me."
"You're a real asshole, you know that?" Chris said, standing tall next to you. Your arms were touching.
"Your brother's not very polite, Eyeball." The mean-looking boy said.
Eyeball? What a weird name. You thought.
"Now Christopher. I know you didn't mean to insult my friend..." Eyeball started, but the other boy cut him off.
"I know he didn't mean to insult me. That's why I'm gonna give him the opportunity of takin' it back."
In a heartbeat, Chris was pinned to the ground, a still-hot cigarette butt close to his eye.
"Ah, shit." Chris said breathily, wheezing a bit as the heat traveled closer to his face. The older boy continued to threaten him as you and Gordie spat insults at the teenagers.
You made eye contact with Chris, fear pooling in his bright blue eyes.
"Take it back, Chris! Please..." You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. He pursed his lips and his brow furrowed.
"Okay! Okay! I'll take it back. I take it back!"
The older boy got up, shoving Chris to his feet.
"There. Now I feel a whole lot better about this. How about you?" Before Chris could shoot out another insult you grabbed his hand and squeezed it to remind him to shut up.
"Good." The mean boy said, smirking. As he walked by, he slapped your ass and you slapped his hand away, shooting daggers at him through your glare. Chris's hand squeezed yours.
"See you later girls!" Eyeball said.
Gordie stared after his hat, frozen.
"Come on man, just forget it." Chris said, finally letting go of your hand to throw an arm around Gordie and shake him a bit.
You rubbed Gordie's back gently and all three of you walked to the treehouse.