IT characters x reader

One of the lads // poly

You drop your eyes and fidget under Henry's narrowed eyes, heart thumping. So that's a no.
After a stretch of unmoving silence, Victor speaks up. "Dija all forget about the huge rock in my field or..."
–
The final school bell sets forth in motion a sea of students that eagerly flood the hallways and stairways, and while the main current is aimed towards the building's exits, you wait patiently by your locker for one of your boyfriends to come and assist you. In previous years you have always been fortunate enough to get the bottom locker but this year you had been assigned a top locker with a faulty design plan clearly made by someone over the height of 5'2 as the combination lock was placed in the top left corner of the locker.

It's not that you couldn't get on your tippy toes to see the lock but you saw little need for that when you had four tall boyfriends, all of whom had no issue standing close behind you when opening when opening your locker.
An elbow jabs slams your side into the locker and you, mistaking it as Henry playing rough again, laugh out "You're such a dick."
"What did you say, skank?"

You bite your lip and swallow hard, coming face to face with three teens made of protein milkshakes and a low carb intake. All football players, or former football players, based on the iron on patches their letterman jackets proudly displayed. "Sorry, I thought you were my boyfriend."
He laughs, elbowing his friend to the right of him. "Kill me if I ever start looking like any of those pieces of shit."
A hot flush of righteous anger burns your cheeks and you curl your books tighter to your chest.
The one on the left takes note and tries yanking them from your grasp. He succeeds in grabbing a few notebooks and a CD your friend had returned sandwiched between them.
"H-hey! Give that back."
"Make me."

The follow minute was a humiliating game of monkey in the middle as they tossed your things in the air with little regard for their well being.
"The fuck is going on here?"
The football players turn to look at Henry and the rest of his crew mid toss, allowing all your things to plummet to the ground. You rush to collect your things. Belch immediately coming to your aid, but before either of you could grab your CD the tallest of the jocks cracks it beneath his heel.
"Oops." He sings, "Sorry about that Bowers."
"Guess you'll have to sell some more shitty fruit to buy her a new one."

He shouldn't have said that.
The scenario plays out in the span of ten seconds.
Henry bolts forward, pushing the center guy's head down to hit the lockers. He delivers a few debilitating blows with his knee to their gut while he's at it.
Belch wraps his arm around the shortest of the three's neck, barely matching heights, placing him in a choke hold. When they try to buck their out he tightens his grip, threatening to cuff off their supply of oxygen.

The last one is the smartest out of the three, turning heel as soon as possible and maybe— JUST maybe had he not insulted Henry mere seconds ago, Henry would have let him. "Get em, Patrick!"
Like a dog playing fetch, Patrick lunges forward, grabbing the strap of their backpack and yanks back with enough force to knock them down and send them sliding back near the group. Instantly, Victor collides his combat boot to the side of their face, pushing his face against the tile floor, waiting for further instructions from Henry. Patrick takes a similar approach, applying just enough pressure to their crotch with his foot to cause discomfort—or possibly worse. He never was good at measuring pain.

Hand still at their neck, Henry calls out your name and shoves their body face into the lockers. "What's it gonna be? Want to be known as a nice girl or the type that doesn't take shit from nobody?"
Once again all eyes fall on you but this time half of them were glaze with silence (and not so silent) pleads of forgiveness.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.
Your lips part.
Tell them to let them go. I don't want this.
But no words come out.
Or do I?
You look back down, staring intently your favorite CD in piece on the floor.
"I—"
"Hey! What are you kids doing?!"
You all turn to look at the principal at the end of the hallway and suddenly the validity of your decision was rendered null. Reflexively you all, football and bowers gang akin, book it, racing through the halls and stairways until the two groups part ways outside in the school parking lot.

Piling into Amy, Victor and Patrick climb into the back while you claim shotgun by straddling Henry's lap as Belch manages to peel out in record time. Looking out rear window, you can see the principal shrink away into nothing and you slump into Henry's chest with relief. You weren't dumb enough to think that tomorrow wouldn't come with its own consequences but relished in the fact you wouldn't have to deal with that today.
–
"What were you going to pick?"
You look up at Patrick leaning over Henry's seat. "Huh?"
"At the school."
On command Henry's body tensed beneath yours and the rest of the gang, despite their attempts to be subtle, seem to lean in for an answer as well.
"Oh." A beat. "Hit 'em quick and hit 'em hard." You lie, only able to muster a half smile but hiding it by giving Henry a peck on the lips. "It's the Bowers gang way, right?"

Thin lips quirk into a full-on smile, a rarity for Henry, and he laughs "She's one of us, boys."
The car erupts in unison of howls and chants.
"One of us!"
"One of us!"