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ally-holmes · 1 year

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It started with a kiss | Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie kissed Richie at the Clubhouse, but then ran away freaking out. Stan finds Richie and well... He asks him to kiss him too.

Content Warning: modern setting (2007), no Pennywise, aged-up characters, Derry as its own warning, mention of social stereotypes, mention of recreational drug use, past issues, mention of failed suicide attempt, kisses.

Word Count: 6244

Also available on AO3

Part One | It started with a kiss

Maine was considered the most southern state in the north of the United States, which was true; all the stereotypes referring to racism and religion and the obnoxious necessity of glorifying tradition that could be seen on TV shows when they made any southern state reference could also be found in Maine, most of all in Derry. Derry seemed like a town that wanted to be a city that just decided to jump from the timeline and stay forever in a place called "the good old days" by the elderly. Derry still had families that looked down on the catholic school in Neibolt Street and looked even worse to the synagogue; some of them even held tight to their purses when they crossed paths with any member of the only black family in Derry –they were the fourth generation owning the Hanlon farm, though– and oh, no one will ever talk about homosexuality and integration. Of course, there were some shy movements in favor of getting Derry an update making it more modern, unfortunately, even though being in full 2007, it was still a disgusting bunch of prejudices, misinformation, and crimes.

Because of that, when Richie Tozier discovered at the age of thirteen that he was in love with his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak, the world came crashing down on him. He wasn't just terrified that Henry Bowers and his gang would find out, they were harassing him for way too long with homophobic nouns without any proof; the problem was his friends and the whole town. He never wanted to be in the limelight, not really. Richie liked people paying attention to him, sure, but not to actually pay attention to him, because if they did, they would be able to see the way he adjusted his glasses when he was uncomfortable, and they could identify the moment in which his jokes were trying to cover the pain of his soul, and even the nervous tic in his leg. If someone bothered to pay enough attention, they would've found out immediately that he was crazy in love with Eddie Kaspbrak, and if the Losers found out, Richie would've found himself friendless, but if Eddie did– If Eddie figured out the truth, all of Richie's soul will break into hundreds of pieces. Just thinking about it made his legs shake; a sour taste filled up his mouth, and his stomach twisted awfully. Ms. Kaspbrak, Eddie's mom, kept convincing him that he'd get AIDS by just sitting next to gay people sharing their air. If Eddie ever discovers Richie's secret, Richie will become a germ, bacteria, and incurable virus source in his eyes. Richie would be as dirty and disgusting as Ms. Kaspbrak assured.

At the moment, with their last school year on the horizon, Richie felt lost and anxious. On one hand, he wanted to finish high school, leave Derry, get lost in the big city streets, and enjoy his life. On the other hand, he was afraid of losing touch with his friends and terrified that Derry had messed up so nicely with his mind that he wouldn't be able to function in the outside world. Will he still be terrified of looking briefly at a cute boy? Will he suffer a panic attack just by thinking of another boy while masturbating? He endured the panic when he did it thinking of Eddie! Richie felt like a traitor when that happened, but it wasn't a recurring thought. Truth be told, Richie had given up on Eddie a long time ago. From thirteen to fifteen, he fantasized about the possibility so many times that the fine line between dream and reality blurred. It was then that reality hit him like a brick. Richie will never be with Eddie. Keeping wishful feelings waiting for the day something would happen was anything but torture. That's why, after a Saturday full of sobs, alcohol, and molly, Richie decided to let go. He locked his romantic feelings for Eddie so just the friendship would remain.

No one will ever know.

No one should ever know.

No one.

Richie was positive about that when on August thirteen, he crawled into the Clubhouse with a hunch of molly in the pocket and an m&m's family-size bag between his hands. The beginning of his senior year was just some weeks away and the Losers agreed to spend time together as much as possible that summer. The summer of when they were thirteen, the Losers faced a pedophile and serial killer named Robert Gray, a.k.a. Pennywise the Dancing Clown, and they were on the state news like a group of brave local avengers. It didn't last long because Henry Bowers killed his father that same summer, and did the same thing with some of his insane friends, which filled every news channel around the country. Derry kept its number one position in the "Most Violent Place in the United States" charts. It didn't matter how tragic the whole experience was, they became a group of friends who survived school: the Losers Club. Now, the old Stanley Uris' fear of how long they would remain friends seemed to take shape for everyone. University implied distance, and distance wasn't an ally of friendship.

That afternoon Richie had been the first one at the Clubhouse just after four, and in this little hole the weather was fresh, so he landed awkwardly in the old hammock with his long extremities trying to find a good posture. He rolled the joint with his long slim fingers when he heard someone stepping down the doubtful stairs.

"Spaghetti!" Greeted so excited that he fell from the hammock and burst into laughter.

"Asshole! How much have you smoked yet?"

"Oww… Eddie Spaghetti, don't give me that mad Chihuahua look. I haven't smoked yet. I didn't get the chance." Richie moved the joint between his fingers calling for Eddie's attention, who followed the movement with his eyes.

"I have no idea how you'll get through university approval."

"It's early to be thinking about that, Eddie-Bear. We still have this full year together. A fucking long and endless year full of compositions, tests, expectations, rejection letters…"

"Shut up dickhead!" Eddie shook his inhaler and took two strong shots before calming down, sitting on a trunk that the Losers had dragged into the Clubhouse so it could be used as a bench.

Eddie was quite nervous about the perspective of finding a university; there was the chance that his mom would burn all his letters or even sabotage his studies so she could have him with her forever. Richie pushed just enough to be a pain in the ass, but not quite enough to mess up his brain.

"Want a drag or what, Eds." He asked, looking for his lighter.

"I don't want shit, Richie. I don't even want you smoking here. When the Losers came, then do whatever you guys want, like always."

"Humm– You're saying that like you hated to get high, Eddie."

"You know how hard it is to talk my mom into letting me live my life. Molly reek doesn't help at all."

"Oh, my dearest Sonia." He said in his British posh voice. "A woman as sweet as big that when you showed up reeking of marihuana for the first time ever she thought it was a new perfume. Your mother is full of shit, my dear friend, but it's not alright to toss the crap you don't want into her."

"I hate you"

"I know. Easy boy, in about ten months you won't have to put up with this pile of human disgrace no more, baby. Never ever."

Regardless of the joyful tone used, the weight of those words was enough to set up a painful silence between the two of them. Richie didn't light up the joint at the end; he kept it in his pocket and tried to find a suitable topic.

"You're not a burden, Richie. You are annoying and sometimes is nearly impossible to follow you, but you are not a burden. Don't think like that."

"Yeah, yeah… Hey, there's no need to give me a TED talk, Eds."

"Don't call me that." He finally said.

"My point is that I already know that the moment we leave for uni no one will remember the lil' ol' Tozier."

"God shut up!"

Never.

Ever.

Not even once did Richie Tozier thought possible that in the fresh environment of a hole in the ground on a hot August afternoon none other than Eddie Kaspbrak would grab a bunch of hair from the back of his head to keep him still while he was kissing him. Everything seemed so fucking weird that Richie asked himself if he had smoked that joint and the molly was stronger than he had guessed. It took him a moment to understand that he wasn't hallucinating, and then he kissed back shyly, not closing his eyes all the way. Any moment now Eddie could disappear, explode or just break into a mean laugh. The chances scared him so much that Richie clenched his fists in this Hawaiian shirt to restrain himself; he didn't want to spook Eddie by touching him.

The moment Eddie's lips parted from his and opened his eyes, the hand that hung onto Richie's soft curls let go, caressing his neck lightly. Richie tried to close the distance once again, but he couldn't nonetheless; he wasn't brave enough to do it, so Eddie took note and dived in holding Richie's chin before kissing him again. It wasn't an experienced kiss, they didn't even use the tongue, the lips used shy, cautious movements drawing a patron like Eddie had studied the theory until his eyes went dry but didn't get any practice. Wasn't surprising coming from Eddie.

When Richie decided that the shared kisses were good proof that he should stop worrying, he let go of his shirt and placed his right hand on Eddie's thigh. Eddie jumped with the touch breaking the kiss. It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up. Eddie was the perfect impersonation of a rabbit blinded by car lights. Richie froze, he even stopped breathing, getting ready for anything that could happen after the most frightened and wrecked expression of Eddie.

"No. God, no. Oh, no. I can't. No." He went up quickly to pace round and round in their tiny hole while his hands were ruffling his hair, not glancing at Richie at any moment. "I'm sorry. Fuck, I can't– forget it. Rich, I– I can't."

He climbed up the dangerous stairs of the Clubhouse at superhuman speed before Richie could react; and when he did, the only thing Richie was able to do was to break down crying covering his face with shaking hands, sobbing without consolation. Stan found him like that not even a minute later. Richie hadn't noticed the rushed way in which Stan went down the stairs like he knew what he was about to find, he hadn't noticed when Stan stopped his movements the exact moment he saw him either. Richie did notice when Stan removed the hands from his face with a stern voice and made him rinse the tears away and blow his nose.

"Did something happen?" Richie denied the question shaking his head. "I'll say it differently. I knew that you were longing for Eddie before you did; I've seen him running away and you're a mess. So, tell me what in the fucking hell happened here, Richie."

"I don't know. I really have no idea. We were talking about the future, our last year in town." He explained between pitiful sobs. "And then– then he kissed me and… I don't fucking know why he fucking kissed me! Fuck! It was Eddie! Why would Eddie kiss me? And– and sure, the kiss wasn't marvelous, but did I suck so bad? Was the kiss so awful that he had to run away? Maybe it was my hands' fault, I shouldn't have touched him. God, I'm certain my hands are disgustingly sweaty… It might be my breath, maybe it stinks. He might think I got him AIDS, Stan. What if he doesn't want to talk to me again? What if he tells the Losers that I'm gay? What if I spend my senior year friendless, alone, locked in my room until merged with the sheets?"

"Enough!!"

Again, with a stern, powerful voice Stan achieved Richie's full attention. He was looking at him as if it was the first time. A whole bunch of different emotions could be read on Stan's face, but when he took off Richie's glasses Stan became a shapeless blur that became clearer bit by bit. To do so Stan should've been way too close and when Richie felt his warm, sweet breath became aware of the closeness between them.

"Don't worry about the Losers. Even if they found out, they'll never treat you differently, I know there's a part of you that already knows it. Eddie won't tell to anybody ."

"Don't you find me disgusting?"

"You're always disgusting, Richie Tozier, but not because of this ."

Richie visibly relaxed and was aware for the first time that during his attack, he had fallen from the trunk; he was on the floor, and Stan –the always flawless and impeccable Stanley Uris– was kneeling before him.

"You're getting dirty."

"Don't care."

For the first time in his entire life, Richie heard Stan claim that he didn't care to get dirty . Moreover, it was the very first time that he'd seen him totally comfortable with the affirmation. Stan was way more worried about him than about his trousers, and that just could mean that Richie was utterly pathetic.

"Show me how you did it."

"Huh?"

"Show me how you kissed Eddie. If you think that Eddie run away like that because the kiss was awful, show me how you did it."

The Clubhouse light wasn't the same as the one that could be found outside; nevertheless, Richie was able to see the intense blush that covered Stan's face and crawled down his neck. Stan's eyes seemed like two black orbs filled with a bunch of hard-to-identify feelings, but the tension in his body was shouting uncertainty. When Richie didn't respond and looked at him open-mouthed, not even blinking, Stan moved away, sitting over his legs, and crossing his arms over his torso, tearing his eyes away from Richie to look anywhere but him.

"Leave it. I know you don't like me. Kissing would be stupid. I'm not Eddie."

The distance made Stan into a blur again so Richie couldn't identify the kind of facial expression he was making, but he felt the weight of the last affirmation so hard that it ended up breaking his heart.

"It– It wasn't so good. He just grabbed my hair suddenly and– well… He just pushed his lips over mine. I was too scared to move. And– and I don't want you running away either. Seriously, Stan… Why would you want to kiss me ?"

"That's a stupid question." He mumbled.

"I am stupid."

"Of course you are."

The loving voice placed pressure on Richie's chest like a huge void was waiting for Stan to fill it up, and he needed it immediately or he'd die.

"I know that Richie is a synonym of hehe-haha, but if the kiss is actually horrible don't laugh. Don't tell anyone either. I don't want everyone to…"

"You didn't tell anyone what happened that time, Rich. I won't be the one outing you."

"Are you not afraid of people thinking you're gay?"

"Wow… Richard, I knew that you were slow, but this is a new level. I don't hide, but I don't feel the need to wear my label written on my front either. If I have to pick one, I think bisexual would be ideal. Do we kiss now or do we wait until the Losers arrive?"

Thousands of questions arise in Richie's mind, but he wasn't able to answer any without risking their privacy at the Clubhouse because the Losers could arrive any minute now. He swallowed nervously and nodded, a good enough invitation for Stan to get close again and grab him by the hair the same way Eddie did, but using less strength and more firmness. Richie ate a moan, feeling the void growing bigger in his chest. Stan's eyes danced from Richie's lips to his eyes, he licked his own lips and broke the distance.

The kiss had nothing to do with the one shared with Eddie. The moment their lips got together the void in Richie's chest got filled with the need for Stan. Richie's hands didn't hesitate when they found a place on Stanley's hips squeezing with intention. Their mouths moved with need and urgency as if they wanted to become one. While Eddie's kiss was tongueless and awkward, Stan's was natural, organic. Stan was the first to try to use tongue licking Richie's bottom lip asking for permission to get in. God, Richie needed that so fucking much! He opened his mouth without complaint welcoming Stan's tongue like a dear old friend enjoying the sweet apple pie taste of it. This time he didn't fight back the moan that burst from his chest. Richie pulled the thin body closer and Stan held Richie's face between his hands to keep him in place while he adjusted better on his lap. Their bodies fit like puzzle pieces.

Oxygen made itself needed in their lungs, being the only reason why they separated. Panting in each other's mouths, swollen lips wetted with saliva, they looked at each other hungrily. This time Richie wasn't afraid of restarting the kiss. Something in his inside growled at the sight of Stan, that's why he sent his right hand to Stan's nape letting his whole arm press against Stan's column to keep him in place, then he made him move down to kiss him again. Richie was able to feel Stan's moan against his chest and he discovered that that was the most erotic fucking noise he'd ever listened to.

The kiss was hotter and needier than the first one. It wasn't enough. Seemed as if it would never be enough, as if they should spend the rest of their lives kissing each other because if they didn't do it the world would come to an end. They broke apart, nonetheless. This time, Stan let his head fall back trying to get this breath back, and his Adam's apple showed so deliciously in his throat that Richie couldn't control himself, so he bit it lightly, feathery touch of his teeth that was quite enough to make Stan shake in his arms, holding better against him. Richie responded to it by kissing the area, tasting it with his tongue not daring to suck, too afraid of marking him.

"Shit. Fuck… Rich, we need to stop." Despite his words, his hands caressed Richie's scalp making him tremble.

Richie let Stan's neck go just enough to look at him, trying to figure out his facial expression, regardless of the lack of glasses on his face and being in a cloud of desire. Stan smiled at him sweetly when he looked back at him, and Richie blushed.

"It's not that I don't want to keep going, but the Losers are on their way and I suppose you don't want them to find us with my tongue deep down your throat." He put Richie's glasses in their place carefully before leaving his spot in Richie's lap so he could sit on the trunk.

"Will you want that?"

"I don't care."

"Was it good? The kiss, I mean."

"You make some damn stupid questions, Richie."

"And you could very well answer them, please." His voice showed insecurity and he was hiding his face from Stan on purpose.

"Yes, it was better than good. It was better than I thought."

"Have you been thinking of kissing me?"

"I've been thinking of the things that trashmouth of yours could be used for besides 'your mom' jokes."

The silence between them stretched out; both of them were trying to figure out what just had happened and how to confront it. Finally, Richie sat in the trunk looking at Stan.

"How long have you known about me?"

"I'm a very observant man."

"You are, but only with the things you like."

"What are you implying, Richie?"

"You wouldn't have kissed Bill."

"No."

"Or Eddie."

"No."

"Why me?"

"You know why." Stan felt cornered and bare, but Richie's insecurity made him insist.

"No, I don't. Every time I ask, you say it's stupid and refuse to answer clearly. I can figure something out, but fuck it Stan if you don't tell me exactly, I don't know if what I think is real or if I'm just being plain pathetic."

"And why did you kiss me? I'm not Eddie."

"Aargh!!" He ruffled his hair desperately. "We can't have a conversation here. Let's go to my house. Don't give me that look, my parents aren't home. They just left after lunch, they're staying at my gran's for a few days, I was going to invite the Losers, but now I've changed my mind. Let's go."

The path from the Clubhouse to the Tozier's house was done in silence, with fast steps, not caring much about the suffocating afternoon summer sun. The house was quiet with some dish soap odor still floating in the air. Richie went straight to the house thermostat, turning on the air conditioner in the whole place, but then the nerves overcome him. He looked at Stan doubtfully fixing his glasses.

"I know that usually, we go to my room, but I don't know if, given the circumstances and with the house empty, you'll rather be in the living room or–"

"Shut up, Richie." He smiled aiming for the stairs following the well-known path to Richie's room.

Richie's bedroom was big with walls full of pop-culture movies and old music band posters. In one corner laid a worn-down guitar, there were piles of papers everywhere and half-empty snack bags on any surface. The bed had new crisp and clean sheets. Stan stayed there some afternoons every week during the school year, thanks to the agreement he had with Richie.

When he was just an eleven-year-old boy, Stan suffered an illness that made him lose almost a full school year, that's why he had to redo the lost grade when he recovered. Being a little boy he didn't actually care , but growing up he became aware that his friends would leave Derry a year before him, and that made him incredibly anxious. To solve it, his only chance was to improve his scores to get into the grade he should've been, and to do so Richie had a gift, he was extremely intelligent, though it was quite difficult to concentrate. The agreement consisted of Stan giving Richie some help managing his ADHD if he helped him with private lessons. With mutual effort, Stan was able to pass a grade, but they never revoked the agreement.

Stanley got into Richie's closet looking for something to change into. Usually, Stan kept clothing items in there so he could get changed when he visited in case he got dirty, wet, or had sweated. He wasn't the only one, the closet seemed a private storage for the Losers. Stan didn't choose between his tops this time, he picked the most well-worn and colorless of Richie's t-shirts, the ones Richie used frequently to sleep on. The light and worn-out cotton fabric felt way fresher against his skin. For the bottoms, Stan changed his trousers for some of his own sports shorts. Feeling refreshed, Stan climbed into Richie's bed with his back pressed against its headboard.

Meanwhile, Richie busied himself tidying up a bit, mumbling stuff, having absolutely no idea of what to do with himself. Being aware of Stan in his room, in his bed, with his t-shirt, was something completely new for him. Richie gave up on pretending when the holes Stan's eyes were craving in his skin were too much to ignore; he took off his shoes y threw himself to bed the most casual way. Thank fuck his parents bought him a big ass bed.

"So… We've kissed. Rad, huh?"

"Quite rad, yes."

"Why did you want to kiss me?" To his question, Stan took a big breath with weariness. "Tell me the truth because my head is running miles per hour."

"The same reason you'll want to kiss Eddie," Stan answered dark blushed, looking at his hands, clenched in his lap, craving his nails into the flesh.

"I didn't want to kiss Eddie."

"You've always wanted to kiss Eddie."

"That's not true. I wanted to do so for a while, but then I became aware that being obsessed with something that will never happen was useless torture."

"Then it looks like I enjoy suffering…"

"It could be." He confirmed grabbing Stan's left hand between his, tracing carefully the dim scar crossing the forearm from the wrist to the elbow with his fingers. Stan shivered. "When I found you, blade in hand, with all that blood– I knew I'd been too focused on my self-pity picturing an impossible relationship with Eddie. I moved on."

"Hmm…"

"I'm honest, Stan. Eddie's kiss shook me on too many levels, but I never thought it meant I could be with him. I don't think of Eddie that way."

Richie got Stan's arm closer to his mouth and kissed the scar close to the wrist, making him shiver again. They were fifteen when it happened. Stan had a terrible experience involving Robert Gray and Henry Bowers that unlucky summer, which added to his OCD and insecurity created the devastating depression cocktail that drove him to the darkest place. Stan never told anyone, but finding out how he felt for Richie was another piece of the puzzle. He was jealous of Richie and Eddie's dynamic and wanted Richie's attention just for him. It was awful to feel that fucking dependent and ignored, which is why he hid everything with his other insecurities. Stan compared himself with Eddie, and even though Eddie Kaspbrak was like a hyperactive raccoon with mysophobia, he was also brave, willing to fight any moment. Stan wasn't like Eddie so seeing him get the attention Stan desperately sought for himself fed the self-conscious demon that lived inside his mind.

He wasn't able to take it anymore one day. There was no trigger; that day didn't happen anything significant in class, or relevant with the Losers, not even with his parents. It might be possible that if there was actually a trigger people around him would be able to find comfort blaming something specific, but there wasn't such a thing. Stan just gave up. That day was tiresome, slower, and heavier with each passing hour. Richie said he'd go to the Uris' that afternoon to study, but on their last period Eddie stopped him, forcing Richie into lending him a comic, and when Richie didn't show up Stan knew that he was too busy with Eddie. Well… Yes, maybe that could be considered the trigger. Richie came fifteen minutes late, flushed and breathless thanks to the run, he threw his backpack on Stan's bed when Ms. Uris let him in. He couldn't find Stan at first, so he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Are you taking a dump, Uris? I'm already here, dude. Sorry I'm late, Eddie won't stop talking. Stan?"

The sound of something falling into the water was his only answer. Not the best moment for a fucking bath, really. Richie's alarms went off trying immediately to open the door, hitting it with ferocity.

"STANLEY!"

His claim worried Ms. Uris, who saw him breaking the doorknob when she showed up upstairs. Stan was shirtless inside the bathtub, his left forearm was wide open dyeing the water red, a blade shaking in his hands while trying to cut the flesh in his other arm when Richie entered the bathroom. Richie didn't hesitate; he snatched the blade and got Stan out of the water in one movement; he grabbed the closest thing to cover the bleeding wound, which turned out to be Stan's shirt. Ms. Uris snapped out of her stupor to collect as many towels as possible, covering the wound better.

If Derry found out that Stan had tried to kill himself, his mental health would get worse, that's why Richie moved quickly, spreading the rumor that he was misbehaving toying with some knives, thinking they weren't as sharp as they seemed, and ended up hurting Stan. The Toziers helped him with the rumor so the truth was only known by the Uris, the Toziers, and the Losers. Stan didn't want to tell the Losers at first, until one day he discovered Eddie and Bill were telling off Richie, calling him irresponsible, immature, and other hurtful things. Stan couldn't allow Richie to get all the blame, so he confessed.

For Richie, finding Stan in the bathtub that day was the most traumatic experience of his whole fucking life. He felt useless. He thought ill of himself. Richie believed he was the worst human being in the universe because he'd been so self-centered, he wondered if it was possible for him to stop it if he hadn't wasted so much time talking to Eddie that afternoon when he lent him the comic. Stan's hospital days had Richie always present, and when he was discharged, Richie named himself Stan's personal nurse-butler. Knowing it wasn't fair, Richie hated Eddie a little bit that day.

"So… Do you like me?"

"Richie–"

"I'm a needy person, Stanikins. I need you to tell me I'm doing a good job, that I'm a good boy, that you're head over heels in love with me. I need constant reassurance."

"I've liked you for a long time, but I wasn't as smart as you I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"I gave in to my empty hopes even though I knew you liked someone else. I just clenched onto my feelings, willing to hide them forever. Our study afternoons were good enough for me. They still are, truly. The fact that we kissed doesn't mean that–"

"We could try, though."

"Huh?"

"We could try being together, don't you think? I know I'm not much… well, I actually am way too fucking much. Forget it. I'm full of shit and you already have enough, you don't have to bear with me. We can still kiss from time to time if you want… or not… whatever you want."

"Will you go out with me without liking me?"

"I never said I don't like you. I never thought of the chance and now I can't find any objection. We're practically dating already, we only missed–"

"Pushing our tongues into each other's throats."

"Exactly."

"Does that mean that you won't kiss Eddie again, although he tells you that he's sorry, inexperienced, and that he'll do it better next time?"

"Stanley, no more Eddie," Richie ordered, holding Stan's hand firmer.

"Fine."

This time the silence was more intimate. They were on the bed, looking intensely into the eyes holding hands. Their hearts were beating violently against their chests, a strong blush on their faces. Richie fixed his glasses with shaking hands; he decided it was better to just take them off, and on doing so Stan shuddered.

"Do you like me better with or without the glasses?" It seemed like a casual question but hid all of Richie's insecurities in it.

"Both."

He drew Richie to kiss him making it obviously difficult for him to put his glasses on the nightstand. They kissed with the same hunger and need that they did in the Clubhouse while going down on the bed, lying down. They held onto each other, hands never going under the clothes, not touching dangerous places; they weren't comfortable enough yet. Richie kissed Stan's neck again, allowing himself to suck lightly into an easy-to-hide spot. Stan's moans were the best reward. When by chance, the needy movement of their bodies made them feel their erections rubbing against each other over the clothes they drew apart as if an electric current had hit them.

"Do you– do you have experience?" Stan asked.

Richie had issues, sure, yet he was endearing enough to draw girls' attention and quite the determination to show Derry that he was as straight as a stick. He had some flings, nothing serious, so he never went too far. Therefore, Richie shook his head.

"I don't have either. We're not in a hurry, are we? We can–"

"Research at least. I don't believe that porn could be considered as a faithful portrait of reality."

"Trashmouth."

"Sorry. Want to play some video games to calm down? My parents supplied the kitchen, want something?"

Just like that, they moved to the living room with a too-visible bulge between their legs. They weren't ashamed; some part of them felt proud and confident thanks to that bulge because it meant that they were on the same page, although they tried not to look at each other's dicks. They played games and enjoyed some snacks as usual and the excitement went down on its own. The only difference between that afternoon and any other Richie's video game afternoon was the light brush of their bodies while playing, and that from time to time they kissed. In the middle of one of those kisses, Richie's phone rang with a grating sound.

"Uh… It's Bill. Play it cool."

"It's a phone call."

"Hey, Billy boy, how's the wild wide west?"

"Where the f-f-fuck are you, Richie?"

"Home."

"We ag-g-greed to meet at the Cl-cl-clubhouse!"

"Oh, and I was at the Clubhouse!! I'm positive one of you had already started to eat my m&m's bag and I bet anything on Bevy finding the joint I left. I know you. I've got there the first one, are you aware of how fucking hot it was in there? Dude! Did you really expect me to wait there for-fucking-ever? No way! I came back home and I'm playing games with Stan."

"But we agreed to meet!"

"Hold your horses, cowboy. Look, Mr. and Ms. Tozier are gone for a few days, so I thought we could do a sleepover tomorrow. How does it sound? We meet in the afternoon, eat tons of crap, and see a bunch of movies. Everything is in the comfort of Casa Tozier with my air conditioner. It's a better plan than staying at the Clubhouse."

"F-f-fine. Sounds good." Any trace of the initial anger in Bill's voice was gone now; he always got struck by Richie's quick rant at making plans. "I'll t-t-text the Losers. Do we bring s-s-something?"

"Your presence is good enough for me, my man. And maybe five bucks each to buy pizza, but that's just a suggestion, not a requirement."

"Yes, yes. I'll t-t-tell them."

"Soooooo… I wasn't so bad, huh? Do you think I was too obvious?" Richie asked Stan when he hung out.

"If Bill had been in front of you, yes. Is that way of shaking normal? 'Cause I don't think it is."

"I've freaked out!!"

"I can see that!!" Stan shouted back before laughing and speaking in a softer voice, "I have to go."

"So soon?"

"It's almost seven; my mom will go insane if I'm not home for dinner. If you want me here tomorrow I'll have to leave now."

"Fiiiiiiine. I don't have a choice but to let you go."

Stanley went upstairs to recover the clothing he was wearing that afternoon when he went out; meanwhile, the house cleaned up the place; but when Stan went down again, he found Richie ready to get out.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll drive my boyfriend home." The word made them blush. Stan crossed his arms before Richie, willing to look menacing.

"Do you believe I need an escort to walk a couple of streets?"

"Of course not. I don't want you to leave so I'd rather accompany you and say goodbye at your front door." He mumbled red-faced, without looking at Stan's eyes.

"God, you're adorable. I'll love to, honestly, but I'd rather not do a show for my mom. Come here." He gave Richie a peck and hugged him by the shoulders squeezing him against his body.

"Text me when you're home," Richie murmured to Stan's neck, not wanting to let go.

"As always, Rich."

"True. We're not going to change much in the end, we already behave like an old married couple. I spend my whole time texting the Losers, I text you the most when I'm home alone" He made the Macaulay Culkin face.

"Yeah, you even texted me about your shit routine."

"No! Oh my God! My life is running before my eyes… I made a fool of myself all this time. How can you like someone who texted you talking about the shape of his turds?"

"I do wonder it sometimes. I don't want you to change, though, I like you just the way you are."

"Oww, Stannie… If you liked it so much I'll text you a picture of my turd next time."

"Please don't."

It was hard to say goodbye, but Stan went finally through the door and Richie stayed there, watching him go until he disappeared.

To be continued...

#it stephen king #it andy muschietti #IT FANDOM #it fanfiction #richie tozier #stanley uris #Stozier #stanley uris x richie tozier #fanfiction #fanfic #AO3 Works #eddie kaspbrak

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creepyobsessionss · 7 months

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#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it movie #it #pennywise #stanley uris #bill denbrough #stanley x bill

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morrirylet · 2 months

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stanley is a people watcher

stanley uris is a quiet boy and he's always been the quietest of the losers

it's just something that runs in the uris family, they're very calm and quiet people with a lot of secrets and unspoken words. every time stanley talks more than he should or louder than he should he gets this "be quiet, it's inappropriate" look so stanley just behaves and observes

it's just easier to learn what dad's face looks like when he's silently angry so you don't get scolded, it's just easier to memorize mother's breathing rate when she's annoyed. stanley was a people watcher from a young age because he always had to predict his parents' moods

stanley is a people watcher and it's something that he hates about himself. he knows people too well

he just knows why bev's cheeks turn all red when she's looking at bill he just knows why ben's all sad when he sees bev and bill together he just knows when mike's smile is fake because he's sad and needs extra care he just knows why richie's smile fades when he sees eddie not laughing at his joke he just knows exactly what eddie looks like when he's just pretending to be disgusted by richie ("idiots") and he knows for sure that bill doesn't love him the way he loves bill

stanley is a people watcher and he hates it because no one watches him. because stan is a closed book and most people don't try to go deeper than what they see. they see that he's a calm and quiet boy just like his parents taught him to be and that's okay for everyone

that's why stanley prefer watching birds instead. who knows what's going on in those little minds?

#i'm excited but SCARED TO POST THIS #stanley uris #stanbrough #it #bill denbrough #it fandom #it headcanons #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #richie tozier #stenbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #losers #the losers club #stanley x bill #rylet being funny

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wintaswan · 8 months

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⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈𝐈𝐈. ✧ ──ㅤ THE LOSERS CLUB.

୨୧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻： 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

୨ pairings: (the losers club minus mike x fem!reader)

୨ summary: how they acted, felt and looked the first time they saw you.

୨ warnings: blood, injuries, homophobia, slut-shaming.

୨ disclaimer: i use (name) instead of ‘y/n’.

୨ content: (preference, romance, fluff)

— 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁.

bill first laid his eyes on you in the school cafeteria as you walked past him with a friend. he only saw the back of your head as you walked away, yet that was enough to keep him looking. as you turned around, your beauty took him aback. he quickly flashed his eyebrows, and began to feel overwhelmed. he looked away and stared down at the table where he was sat, mouth agape, eyes wide, cheeks pink. “oh.. oh my god..” he’d think to himself.

bill was snapped out of his daze when richie noticed his peculiar state. “the fuck’s got your knickers in a twist, bill?” he’d laugh.

bill, still half deep in his daze, makes eye contact with richie. he tries unusually hard to form a response, but can’t seem to choke out any words or sounds. the losers share looks of confusion before bill squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, releasing a deep sigh. “bill, are you okay?” stanley would question bill’s sudden breakdown with concern filling his voice. bill would nod as he relaxed his face and body, sneaking what was supposed to be a glance at you, but turned into a stare. suspicious, stanley followed bill’s gaze and eventually figured it out.

“richie, the line”, eddie would gently nudge richie’s shoulder. “what? what line?” “the lunch line, dipshit! everyone’s gone, hurry up” eddie irritatedly explained, standing up to walk over with richie who followed close behind. “are you staring at a girl?” stanley began his interrogation, a smirk tugging at his lips. bill stuttered frantically, seeking denial, but surrendering. “y-yes” he admitted sheepishly, beginning to fidget with his jean pocket. “no, it’s not a bad thing. who is she?” “i d-don’t know. i-i’ve-i’ve never seen her be-before” he said, breaking his stare at you to look at stan. before stan could respond, eddie and richie sat back down, defeated looks on both of their faces. “i-i take it they-they’re out of jolly r-ranchers” bill released a small laugh, amused at their expressions. “yeah and it’s all eddie’s fault - he made me wait until the line was smaller when we could’ve easily gotten to them if we went in line!” richie complained particularly loudly. this sparked a small argument between eddie and richie.

using their distracted friends to their advantage, bill discreetly pointed you out to stanley, and he smirked as he gave bill a small nod in approval as he checked you out for himself. stan observed your mannerisms and behaviours to decipher the sort of person you are, and with his summary, he decided on a personalised plan to help bill.

bill found it hard to tear his eyes away from you, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. he believed ‘pretty’ was an insulting understatement for your kind of beauty. bill’s stomach was filled with butterflies, and his hands fiddled with each other as he took quick glances at you every few seconds, being careful not to stare out of concern of you noticing. although, part of him longed for the moment your eyes would lock with his.

— 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗌.

stanley saw you for the first time in an art class. your name was called for attendance by the teacher, and the name was unfamiliar to him - you were a new student. as he heard you confirm of your presence, his heart skipped a beat at the lovely sound that was your voice. his eyes searched for you around the classroom, and when he finally saw you, he could not pull his eyes away from you. he was so lost in you that he didn’t hear his name get called by the teacher. bill nudged him out of his daze.

he shook away his thoughts and apologised before awkwardly muttering something, confirming of his presence. he smiled and looked down, before quickly glancing at you again. he felt butterflies go crazy in his stomach as his mind was racing at the thought of you. he felt eager to introduce himself.

when art class started, he went to retrieve an apron, when he saw you struggling to tie your apron up on the small of your back. he laughed quietly at your attempt to tie a knot without looking, and blushed. he thought you looked adorable. something came over him, and he decided to go in for it.

“need some help?” he spoke softly as he gestured to your apron. “m-maybe..” you sheepishly replied, attempting to avoid eye contact with him. stanley simply laughed as he walked behind you and began tying your apron up, trying desperately to ignore his shaking hands. a blush crept onto both of your cheeks. “thank you” you quietly muttered as you began to fidget with your fingers. “it’s okay. i-it was funny though, watching you trying to t-tie it up” his voice was soft as he laughed, and his hands lingered for a few seconds more than they should’ve. his smile widened at the sound of your laugh, his heart racing in his chest.

you felt his hands withdraw from your lower back, so you turned around to face him. as you looked up at him, you both realised how close your bodies both were to each other. “th-thank you, again” you whispered as your stomach did flips. “your- your welcome” stanley replied, attempting to ignore the feeling of his face and body burning up. you looked back across the room for your canvas, and made eye contact with him one last time before smiling awkwardly and walking back to it. he smiled to himself as he observed your every move. stanley was aware that he was about to get himself into a feeling of deep obsession, and he wasn’t objecting it.

— richard tozier.

richie first saw you in the hallway at school. you were a new student and you weren’t expecting the hallway to become anywhere near as crowded as it became after class. you were walking through the crowd by yourself with your head down, a beautiful small rose wedged above your ear.

he saw you when you were all the way at the opposite end of the hallway, and when he first laid his eyes on you, his eyebrows raised. richie’s jaw slightly dropped and he quickly reached his hand up to fix his glasses. as he saw you up close, he sharply exhaled through his mouth as the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks. if only you would have looked up to meet his eyes, and maybe you would have seen the pure adoration present in his gaze. however, you didn’t look up. which is likely why you walked into him.

your bodies quickly collided, however it wasn’t forceful enough to push you over. you looked up at him and saw his mouth agape, and his cheeks pink. you couldn’t decipher whether he was trying to form any words or whether his mouth was just hung open for.. whatever reason. you quickly mumbled an apology as you began walking up the hallway again. richie immediately turned around and watched as you walked away, his heart fluttering as he recalled the small interaction you both so recently shared.

“she dropped her flower” stanley pointed out as he bent down to pick it up. richie took the flower from stanley and began chasing after you - he thought it was a perfect excuse to see and interact with you again. finally, right outside of the door, he caught up to you. he gently tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned around to face him. richie presented you with the flower. “you- uh- y-you dropped this” richie’s voice was shaky with nerves, and he cursed himself for sounding so nervous. “oh, thank you..” you’d smile sheepishly to yourself, gently taking the rose from his hand. your hand slightly brushed against his, and his breath hitched in his throat. he looked at his hand, then back at you. his hand was still extended the way it was when he held the rose.

richie snapped out of it before forming a response. “oh, i-it’s okay …. w-what’s your name?” he attempted to keep talking with you, dreading the end of this moment. “(name)” you quietly responded as you tucked the rose behind your ear again. richie took a moment to respond, your voice giving him butterflies. “um, cool. i-i’m richie” the boy stuttered out, fixing his glasses. you smiled and nodded at him, wanting to continue the conversation but far too nervous to form words. “i- i’m gonna- i’ll see you around” he gestures towards the door before turning around and rushing back into the building.

the losers walked quickly back up the hallway when they saw richie. “r-r-richie, where-where’d you go?” bill questioned as he looked at the direction richie came from. “u-uh.. let’s go” richie rushed back up the opposite end of the hallway, and the losers shared the same bewildered expression. the losers caught up to him outside, and richie turned to face them, wide-eyed. “dude, i just saw the prettiest fuckin’ girl i’ve ever seen in my entire fuckin’ life”

— 𝖾𝖽𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗄𝖺𝗌𝗉𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗄.

eddie winced at the large cut on his arm as it stung him, almost bringing tears to his eyes. he swiftly made his way to the school infirmary. the stinging pain mixed with the worrisome thoughts of infections taking over his mind greatly overwhelmed him. finally, he arrived, and checked himself in. the school nurse escorted him to the resting room, where a girl his age was sat on one of the chairs. he froze in his tracks and his eyes widened, and suddenly he found himself experiencing trouble breathing. a peculiar feeling crept into eddie’s body, and he frowned at the unfamiliar sensation. “i’ll be right back, i just need to retrieve some supplies, darling” the nurse spoke frantically to eddie as she rushed out of the room.

eddie stood frozen for a few seconds before finally breaking eye contact and taking a seat across from you. he pretended to examine the room, sneaking a few glances at you in the process, his leg starting to bounce the more he registered your appearance. he couldn’t believe how pretty you were, and it only made him feel more nervous. he frantically unzipped his fanny pack and took a puff from his inhaler. it was then, he noticed your red, teary eyes and suddenly he felt a lump in his throat. it felt as if his thoughts were itching at him to ask the reason or cause of your situation, but that question was quickly answered when he noticed the red outline and bruising visible on your neck when you removed the ice you were holding up to your neck. he quickly frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but felt too shy to draw your attention towards him. eddie’s inner thoughts cursed whoever would do such a thing, especially to someone as cute as you.

the nurse rushed back in to the room, more ice in one hand with quite the amount of bandages and disinfectant alcohol in the other. she offered a small smile as she quickly handed the ice to you, before kneeling down to attend to eddie’s bleeding arm. “now, tell me, sweetheart. how did this happen?” the nurse questioned worriedly as she began to disinfect his cut. “u-um, i- some boys in my class- they- uh- were messing around with some knives in home ec. and one quickly turned around a-and uh.. slashed me” he explained frantically as he harshly shut his eyes in attempt to bear with the increased pain from the disinfectant. “ugh. what is it with boys today? first choking, and now cutting children with knives! keep some pressure on it, nice and firm. yes, like that,” the nurse scoffed as she wrapped the bandage around his arm. “yes, choking. i know, unbelievable. (name) just in front of you was choked by one of the older boys, patrick hockstetter, i believe, as she was on the way to class. revolting, i tell you. i wonder why kids do such things”

the moment your eyes met, eddie internally freaked out. he was glad, though, since the nurse mentioned you, he now had good reason for looking at you. eddie’s face heated up as you gave a little, embarrassed sort of smile at him. he returned a small smile, his blush becoming more apparent as his eyes darted around the room before looking down at his shoes. eddie felt beyond nervous, he was extremely restless, making small movements every few seconds - touching his nose, itching his head, adjusting his posture.. the only thing he could think about was the girl in front of him. at some point he considered that he had actually died and gone to heaven, and was presented with an angel. or, the amount of pain he felt was making him hallucinate to distract him from his injury - creating an illusion of beauty he considered impossible.

his smile had yet to falter as he looked back up at you. simply being in your presence made him feel as if he was floating. “(name), are you ready to go back to class?” the nurse asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. you nodded before standing up and putting your backpack on, looking at eddie as he looked a little disappointed. he dreaded your absence. you walked out of the room, taking one last look at eddie, smiling bashfully to yourself as your eyes met. eddie watched as you walked out, looking down at the floor again. “that was your girlfriend, i’m guessing?” the nurse had a mischevious, playful tone in her voice despite the fact that she was serious. “uhh, what- no, no, i don’t- know her” eddie frantically responded, his face turning a darker shade of pink. “well, let’s hope you get to know her. you looked mesmerised, sweetheart”

— 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝗃𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗆.

ben spent his first few days in derry all alone in the library, beginning heavy research about the small town he had so recently moved to. he couldn’t deny that he felt slightly embarrassed, embarrassed that he had yet to see anyone anywhere near his age in the library yet. he had only seen people of an older age, and it made him feel quite outcasted that he was the only teenager that would pay visits to the library in their free time. that was until he laid his eyes on the first teenager he had seen in derry, and most beautiful person he had ever seen in his entire lifetime. ben was sat down, scanning the library for anyone approximately younger than fifty, and his eyes almost missed you. ben did a double take and froze, staring directly at you for a good minute, mouth agape. he felt particularly excited that he had finally seen someone his age, and slightly intimidated that you were so beautiful. he began thinking of a good excuse to talk to you, or should he just introduce himself? you suddenly looked away from your book, and began looking around the room, clearly bored. you made eye contact with ben, and he shared a soft smile. you returned it, and shyly looked away. you and ben kept sharing quick glances at each other and repeatedly making eye contact and smiling, in which built an innocent, playful sort of tension.

the librarian suddenly dropped a book onto ben’s desk, causing his eyes to quickly dart up to her. “here’s the book you were looking for” she spoke quietly. ben muttered a quick thank you before returning to his book, only for the librarian to speak again. “you know, i think if you spoke to her, you’d get along rather well” she bent down as she whispered in ben’s ear, before she gave a mischevious expression. “wha- how did you-” ben’s utterly confused expression amused her. “i always notice when people eye each other in the library, darling. i may be old, but my eyesight isn’t failing yet” the librarian joked, giving him a light nudge on the shoulder before walking away.

as ben glanced back up at you, you stood up and walked into the section of the library where the books were - walking past him with an adorable little smile on your face. he watched closely and decided to go there as well. ben watched as you went exactly where he was going to go, and smiled to himself at how perfect it was, and how perfect you were. he suddenly felt nervous and went into an aisle in front of where you were. you read the titles of most the books before taking your pick, ‘History of Derry, 1889-1934’. as you pulled the book from the shelf, you met ben’s gaze through the bookshelf. you both shared an embarrassed smile before quietly laughing and looking away, before ben spoke.

“that book, it’s a pretty good one” he motioned towards the book, his smile almost audible. “you’ve read it?” you quietly asked, your eyebrows slightly raising in surprise. “yeah, i just read it, actually. now i’ve started reading the new one, ‘History of Derry, 1935-1988’” ben explained, a hand reaching up to scratch his head. “could- could i maybe borrow it after you’ve read it?” you asked, tilting your head to the side as you tucked some of your hair behind your ears. “yeah, of course! if- if you want you could come and read it with me now?” ben was hesitant, nervous about your response - afraid of rejection. even if it wasn’t a bold offer, he was still about to break out in a sweat “really?” “yeah, of course”

there was a comfortable silence as you sat next to ben, who you had no idea was internally freaking out. he was ecstatic that you took up his offer, and he kept taking discreet glances at you. his heart was beating abnormally fast - and he’d been blushing ever since he first laid his eyes on you. it certainly was not any help that your bodies were in such close proximity that your legs were brushing together, it made him force himself to hide the smile that was so forcefully tugging at his lips. eventually, conversations were started about the peculiar things you had both noticed about derry, and you bonded over your interest in research about it - even though you were only studying it for a school project. ben assisted you with your history assignment, and for once, you enjoyed doing school work.

— 𝖻𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁.

as class ended, you rushed into the bathroom in attempt to arrive and lock yourself in a stall before gretta could find you. however, to your misfortune, she had beaten you to it. as you walked in to the bathroom, you froze in your tracks as your eyes laid on greta - leaning against one of the cubicle doors. “were you gonna hide from me (name)? are you scared of me? aww..” gretta teased with a fake sympathetic expression plastered on her face. you sighed. it wasn’t her you were scared of, you just didn’t want any new injuries. gretta’s constant expression of hatred towards you was only annoying, it was far from scary. if anything, you felt rather apologetic towards her that she would feel the need to inflict pain on others in order to make up for her own.

your eyes rolled back for a moment before you turned around to leave, before one of gretta’s friends blocked the doorway, her arms either side of the doorframe. “going somewhere?” she spoke mischeviously as she walked closer to you, causing you to walk backwards. you bumped in to gretta, who took harsh hold of you by your hair. she slammed you into what she would have preferred as a closed cubicle door, but to both of your surprise - it had been unlocked, causing you to fall into the cubicle and on to someone behind you. the person behind you quickly locked the cubicle door, leaving you both together in a particularly tight, small space. you turned around and were met with one of the most beautiful faces you have ever seen.

internally, beverly was extremely astonished by how beautiful you were - externally, her eyes widening for a moment. a smile tugged at her lips as she moved in front of you, both of you now facing each other, the only sound being the echo of both of your heavy breathing. beverly was feeling a little giddy, and she couldn’t do anything to hide her wide smile, or the blush on her cheeks without making it obvious that she was hiding the fact that she was in fact, blushing. “gross, i bet they’re making out right now. beaverly’s such a slut, it makes sense that she’d even try it with a girl” gretta teased, causing her small group of girl-friends to laugh. you squinted your eyes in pure disgust at gretta’s cruel remark, and beverly decided to respond. “and what if we are? why would you be so upset if it weren’t jealousy?” beverly smirked, amusement evident in her voice. “jealousy? you’re out of your mind. obviously, you’re done fucking guys, so you’re going after the girls next” gretta scoffed, harshly kicking the door with her foot. “do you enjoy living in a fantasy world, gretta? if you think i’ve slept with anyone at all, maybe you should take some of the medication at your daddy’s pharmacy to bring you back to reality” beverly snapped, suddenly feeling a little aggressive. “you and i both know that’s a lie-” “greta! leave them alone. go home” a mature female voice ordered, obviously a teacher. gretta quickly muttered something before footsteps were heard growing further and further away, before there was silence in the girl’s bathroom.

“th-thank you. for- unlocking the door..” you broke the silence, quietly thanking her. beverly was instantly snapped out of whatever anger she felt towards gretta, and her attention was completely dedicated to you. “oh- it’s- it’s okay” she blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she averted her gaze from you. there was a moment of silence before beverly spoke up again. “i’m beverly marsh” she offered a smile, hoping for it to be returned. “i’m (name) (last name)” your smile only summoned butterflies in her stomach, as did your melodic voice. “nice to meet you. you have a- nice name” beverly immediately regretted the compliment after the remembered it was possible you could misunderstand her intentions due to gretta’s (secretly, true) accusation of beverly wishing to be with a girl. beverly noticed as you were quick to present a bashful smile at the compliment, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “thank you, you do as-as w-well” your voice was breathy due to how shy she’d made you feel, your breathing pattern becoming irregular. “well, i have to go. i-i’ll see you around, (name)” beverly smirked as she put out her cigarette, unlocked the door, and left you alone - blushing and smiling to yourself back in the bathroom.

- send requests please!

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kalsiferdraws · 6 months

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Can you spot the headcanons?

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #my doodles #illustration #it #stenbrough #bill x stan #stanley uris #bill denbrough #it 2017 #it fanart #it fandom #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #beverly marsh

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detox2retox · 6 months

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and in the mourning, i'll rise. in the mourning, i'll let you die.

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reareaotaku · 7 months

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Hello it's me Rachel. Listen um sorry for the bother you but can you make a yandere losers club headcanon movie it 2017 ?

It's no bother! Of course I can!

Yandere Losers Club Headcanons

Characters: Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom [Also, I looked up the Jewish stuff for Stanley, so if I got anything wrong lmk]

Bill Denbrough

He gets really shy around you

Stutters a lot and he never really gets over it, no matter how he tries

You're way out of his league and he's surprised when you ask him out

But oh my god, you really want to date him

"Do you want to go out with me?"

He looks at you shocked, his mouth on the floor. At first, he thinks you're trying to pull a prank on him or making fun of him, but you're dead serious

"Oh- W-w-what?"

"Do you want to go out with.... me?" You gesture to yourself at the end, your confidence quickly fading in fear you were about to be rejected

"Uh-uh-uh, um...y-ye-yeah. I'd l-l-l-love to."

Now it's your turn to blush and you smile, "Great. That's great. So what now?"

"I don't know..."

It's a little awkward at first, but you both eventually get over it

His friends tease him, but Bill always brings up about how they're all single [It usually ends the teasing]

He always dresses up whenever he's going to see you

He just wants to look his best

Eddie Kaspbrak

You meet at his favorite place, the pharmacy

He knew who you were and you vaguely knew who he was

He had a huge crush on you and when he saw you, he nearly shit bricks

He quickly put the stuff he was holding back on the shelf, while accidentally knocking stuff down

"Uh, you're Eddie, right?"

He awkwardly laughs, his face turning a light red, "Uh, yeah. Y/n?"

"Yeah. What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" He's quick and nearly yells it at you, causing you to flinch back. He instantly felt bad about it

You only knew two things about Eddie; He's a germaphobe and his mom is crazy

"You're that germaphobe, right?"

His eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "No! I'm not scared of germs. That's crazy," He laughs it off, moving his hand back and forth. He blushes when hearing you laugh and he looks away from you

"You're really cute. Do you want to hang out?"

"Hang out? You and me?"

"Yeah, there's actually a diner close by-"

"Of course. I mean yeah, that'd be cool"

You start hanging out more after that and Eddie is secretly losing his mind

You're hanging out with him

Wow- He feels like he's dreaming

When you ask him to be your boyfriend, he's sure that he's dead and in heaven

Richie Tozier

You both fucking hate each other when you first met

You bully the hell out of each other, trying to get the last word

"Why are you late?"

"Sorry, I was fucking your mom."

"Well, I'm glad you could enjoy someone's mom since you don't have one"

He rolls his eyes, mocking you, because he has no insult to throw back without sounding like he was offended

Things change when he gets older and he realizes that he likes you

it started when he'd see things in his everyday life that reminded him of you

At first he was irritated and he wanted to destroy those things [Flowers, rocks, tree bark, a cloud, the way his food is placed, a game/game character, etc]

But then, he realized these things made him happy. You made him happy, even when he tried to fight it

He began to cherish these things and anything he could preserve and keep, he would

He has a shrine dedicated to those things. Nothing ever directly linked to you, but just things that make his mind go to you

Neither of you will ask the other out, because you two are two prideful- Actually, it'll be an accident when one of you confesses

You two will be fighting and one of you will comment about how the other is pretty/handsome as an insult and the other turns around and is like "You like me?" You'll be blushing and the person who insulted the other will deny it, but whoever was insulted will be like "I like you two."

Stanley Uris

Stan is very mature for a boy his age and that's what attracts you to him

He doesn't really notice you at first, because he doesn't have time for dating and he's more worried about keeping his things in order

You try approaching him multiple times, but you usually get shrugged off

You can go to the temple and wait until after Prayer hall, Shacharit, or the morning blessings, but he'll probably spot you and avoid you. If you're not Jewish, you'll approach his father, the Rabbi, telling him about your interest in the culture

"You can't just be Jewish. You know that right? It's a long progress-"

"I'm okay with that. I'm interested in the culture, language, and history"

He's impressed with your knowledge and interest that he's willing to take you under his wing

Stanley then becomes jealous, because you're becoming closer with his father than he ever was

You get progressively better at speaking from The Torah

"There's this girl who keeps coming to the Temple. I've been avoiding-"

"Wait, there's a girl who's actively seeking you out and you're avoiding her??? Because???"

Stanley rolls his eyes, "It-"

"Is she ugly?"

"No-"

"Are you gay?"

"What? No-"

"Then why are you avoiding her?"

"It's stupid-"

"Spit it out."

"Well, she's not even Jewish, but my dad treats her like she's been going to the Temple her whole life. So, she learns a little Hebrew so what? Anyone can do that."

"Oh, you're jealous and have daddy issues. Got it"

His father acts kind of like your dad. Tries setting you up with a good guy so you'd be set for later in life. Get you incredible connections

When you'll finally get him alone, he busts. He yells at you and he realizes all his anger about his father out on you

Though, when he sees you cry, he quickly stops and he feels so bad

He didn't mean to make you cry. God he felt so bad

He quickly apologizes and this creates a friendship between you both

You can tell him any secret. He'll never tell a soul

You can depend on him for anything. You're the only thing his father likes about him

"Why can't you have Y/n's dedication? She wasn't even born into a Jewish family."

He complains to you about his father, and you're always open to listen to him

Though, he's scared of nearly everything, so you usually are the braver one in the relationship

You have to beg him to go anywhere with you, because he doesn't like being around people

He just sticks with you the entire time

Beverly Marsh

She was very confident when approaching you, but it was fake

She's the type of person to lean on some boxes and then they fall over

She loves brushing and playing with your hair

She thinks it [your hair] is so pretty

She'll hum to you while she brushes it/plays with it

She asked you out. She was very bold about it

She goes after what she wants and she wants you

She'll make sure the moment is perfect

You're alone and the night is beautiful [Though nothing like you]. The wind is blowing just right and the light from one of the post is shinning your face like a halo

If you ever get into a fight with her, she'll avoid you for days/weeks

She doesn't want to, but it's a tactic she knows will get you crawling back

Mike Hanlon

He puts your needs before his own

He's sweet and whenever you have a problem he's always there to listen

He's a smart kid and will always help you with your homework

And by help, I mean he'll do it for you

Hope you like band music, because that's his favorite type of music

He does have a tiny little issue where he lies to make you happy. He's scared of losing you and just wants to keep you close

He doesn't do it on purpose, it kind of just happens

When you find out, you're livid and he understands, but he doesn't apologize. He think he's doing the right thing

You can be mad at him, but you'll always get over it, because you can never be mad at him for long

He doesn't gaslight you on purpose, but he does do it sometimes

"So what, you don't love me anymore?"

"Of course I love you!"

"Well, you're sure not acting like it-"

Ben Hanscom

He's really insecure about himself and his weight, thankfully you make him not feel like he's a pig

In fact, you don't mention it all; It's not something you notice

You always pick up when he's sad and always do whatever it takes to cheer him up

You try and help him cope with it healthy

Though, as he gets older, he starts to work out and you go with him. You don't want him to feel like everyone's staring at him or something

Whenever he's feeling like people are judging or staring you'll always divert attention to yourself, whether it's wearing something crazy or just making yourself look different and wild, you're willing to have people judge you as long as he doesn't feel judged [Does that make sense?]

He never judges you. In fact, he thinks you're way to good for him

Everything you do for him just makes him realize you're to good for him

If you're ever insecure, he's surprised

"What? You're like the prettiest person in the world! " He's absolutely flabbergasted

Absolutely adores you and follows you like a puppy

Practically attached to your hip

Bro's a little dependent on you ngl

#it chapter 1 #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #richie tozier x reader #stanley uris x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh x reader #yandere bill denbrough #yandere eddie kaspbrak #yandere stanley uris #yandere richie tozier #yandere beverly marsh #yandere mike hanlon #yandere horror #yandere slasher

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