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stanthemanstan · 4 years

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒌𝒚 𝑰𝒔 𝒂 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 ❧ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰

A/N: thank you guys for a hundred followers! Sorry about the delay between the uploads, I haven’t been writing a lot lately and I’m still working on the chapter after this. I figured that posting this would be a good way to celebrate a hundred! Hope you enjoy the series, and remember that I’m always open to feedback, questions, etc :)

Word count: 1.4K

Series masterpost

It was twenty-seven years after your final encounter with It when you were called. It was funny, since, like you were of the passing of time, you were unaware of who was on the other line. It took a minute of recollection to realize what the Derry, ME on the phone screen meant to you, and who this man was saying he was. Then it all began to flood back.

“Hello?”

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” you heard on the other line.

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Mike. Mike Hanlon, from Derry.”

Derry. The word was so familiar. So strange at the tip of your tongue, yet so… mnemonic. It was the name of your hometown.

“Oh my goodness… Mike, hi, it’s so good to talk to you again.”

It was the place that had seemed to escape your mind for almost twenty years. Where you grew up. Went to school. And, through odd circumstances, formed your strongest relationships and deepest fears. It also wasn’t just the odd place, you thought, that was flitting back into your memories; it was also the people.

“I agree. However, the subject at hand isn’t exactly the most lighthearted.”

It was also the events.

“Hold on… This couldn’t possibly be about—”

The dreaded summer of ’89.

“I hate to say it, but it is. It has returned, (Y/N). You need to come back home.”

The vivid image of that horrid clown pierced your mind for the first time in years. Those were the thoughts that were burned into your brain for the rest of your high school career, only fading when you escaped Derry to attend college.

“I’ll— I’ll make plans to leave as soon as possible, Mike. You’ve called the others? Are they gonna come?”

You remembered your friends, the Losers, the misfits that banded together. There was stuttering Bill Denbrough. Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. Beverly Marsh. Eddie Kaspbrak the hypochondriac. Ben Hanscom.

“I’ve called almost everyone by now.”

And there was Stanley Uris, the boy who was there for it all.

He was your love and your fear— it was terrifying to realize. While the illusion of the tarantula towering over you was scary enough to your thirteen-year-old self, the thought that came after was much more shattering. The thought of losing him.

“…Do you have Stanley’s number?”

Even though you were deemed too young to have known what love was at the time, you knew that Stanley was too important to you to possibly lose. And that was exactly what you were shown. Being vulnerable, especially after Its assault on him, it was heartbreaking for you to see two of him.

One had begged for you to be okay, telling you that he was there for you, that he would never, ever, ever leave you, that you were everything to him. His voice was hoarse from his previous panicking, screaming, sobbing, and it was ever so desperate when he called out to you. He had blood and sweat and tears staining his face that was bent with fear and worry. He had fresh wounds on the sides of his face from where he was bitten by that horribly warped lady.

The other begged for you to save him, telling you to stop hurting him, that you were killing him, that he would be gone because of you. His voice was hard with disappointment and accusation, sharp enough to pierce your heart and break it permanently. He had blood dried in smears across his face and more of it leaking and sputtering from his lips as he berated you. He had the palest, most lifeless skin, and his eyes were even more so. This impression —Its impression— on your feeble mind was almost emotionally fatal.

The confusion and paranoia lasted a fair amount of time since then.

Completely unwilling to recover and clean up by yourself that day, you accompanied Stan home. You worried that if you weren’t there with him, he would be gone and you would see that deathly vision in his place.

You insisted on helping him disinfect his wounds, even as your hands were trembling, and he eventually had to take care of the matter himself. It was a bit of a predicament for the both of you. You did, however, manage to secure the bandages around his head when he finished. He then cleaned up your scratches for you. It was slightly difficult with one hand, for you were tightly gripping his other one in your own, but he was innovative and concentrated. You just needed to be sure he was beside you.

“Yes, I do. It’s four-oh-four…”

When the oath was made at the Barrens, everyone received a cut on their palm as a token of their promise. You winced as the glass shard pierced your skin, immediately cradling your other hand beneath the cut one. Soon, though, your bloodied hand gripped Stan’s.

You had felt him squeeze your hand, lightly and mindfully enough so that it wouldn’t hurt; a sign of comfort. You gazed at him with such a deep look of admiration in your eyes. The sight of his bandages made your heart ache.

On your right, you held Mike’s hand, and everyone together formed a circle. The eight of you stayed there for a few silent moments before letting your hands fall back to your sides. Your hold on Stan’s was more prolonged.

“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Stan had glanced at you and then looked up at Bill, who was across from him. I gotta go. Your breath hitched and your heart dropped. I hate you, he told Bill. One by one, everyone cracked grins and laughed. Your smile was a weak echo of the others’. You were nervous.

When the laughter died down, Stan caught your eye. I’ll see you later, he said softly. He began walking, setting out towards home, but he also let himself linger a moment or two longer.

Yeah, same. Bye, guys, you said with a wave to the group. While you didn’t want to leave everyone so abruptly, you couldn’t be without Stan after what It had shown you. The Losers parted ways with the two of you.

“Bye, (Y/N). Be seeing you tomorrow. Travel safe.” Mike ended the call.

When you met up with Stan —you had to rush only a little since he had gotten a head start— it was oddly silent at first. You began overthinking. Does he notice how I’m practically following him around like a lost puppy? I’m probably annoying him really badly. Does he know what I saw? Why I’m so afraid?

You looked between your cell phone and the notepad that you had scrawled a cursory phone number onto. Stan’s number. You hadn’t even realized that your heart was throbbing until then.

Stan, I’m sorry, you told him on your walk. I just— I can’t be alone right now, after everything that’s happened. I should probably be going home, but…

With the foreboding weight of your fear on your shoulders and with shaky hands, you began punching in the numbers. Four… zero… four…

It’s okay, he said quietly in return. He didn’t prod or ask for an explanation, but it did seem like he already knew. However, at that moment, you had a tacit agreement not to ask each other what you had seen.

The dial tone sounded, echoing through your head. One ring.

You remembered spending that day at his house, practically locked in his room. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had happened —not then, at least— but it was evident that you both needed comfort and protection from it.

Two rings.

You made small talk as you sat about a foot apart on his neatly made bed. You learned more about each other. That foot was reduced to inches. You confided in each other. Those inches were reduced to closeness. You cried to each other. That closeness became contact— shoulder to shoulder. You consoled each other. That contact became an embrace.

Three rings.

You spent that night in his arms, needing the constant reassurance that he would be there. That he was real. That he was okay. That he still believed in you. There was always a raging mental battle going on— you could never tell if he was there or just another twisted illusion.

The line connected.

Was he there?

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arctichotch · 3 years

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omg can you do adult stan and the reader going bird watching and Stan sees his favorite bird and it’s just disgustingly cute 🥺 i love that he and i share a love of bird watching ❤️

i don't really know what this is and it's really short (also i know absolutely nothing about birdwatching so this is pretty vague)

i love the idea of stan taking you out birdwatching. he's never really found someone in his life who shared the same passion, in fact it was quite the opposite. he was always ridiculed and made feel bad for his interest in birds so he's delighted when you ask to go along with him.

you go to his favourite place to birdwatch, the place where he claims "all the best birds go to and you only deserve the best"

he gives you a spare pair of binoculars and takes you out on a nice, sunny sunday. and honestly you love it. the quietness and serenity of relaxing and pointing out different birds is amazing.

but most of all you love to watch stan's passion for it. the way his eyes light up. his quiet whispers of "look at that one" or the many facts about different kinds of birds he can recite from the top of his head. he's just so damn cute.

it quickly becomes a staple in your relationship. so much so that stan proposes on one of your future trips. lets just say you didn't actually get to see many birds that day as your cries of happiness scares them away.

#stanley uris x reader #adult stan #it 2019 #it chapter two #losers club #fic #my writing #stanley uris #adult stan x reader #2019!stanley uris #it chapter 2 x reader #it

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anxiouslymalicious · 4 years

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Losers Club Plus One Part 12

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series

Read the previous part here or go here for the complete series masterlist!

A/N: Hiya! Quarantine hasn’t been treating me well but I hope you guys are doing alright! This is about 3.3k words long. I hope you enjoy!

There was no time for a break. Taking a breath was all they could do. IT could be anywhere in that place, sitting down, not moving could be dangerous. But so was moving.

Bill, as always, led the group. Followed closely by Mike, Ben, Y/N, Richie, Bev and Eddie. Roles were naturally assumed once more. Bev tried to stay close to Eddie, hoping to provide comfort, hoping to be able to protect him. Although her heart longed to be further in the front. With the man who had captured her heart through a postcard. But she couldn’t leave Eddie behind. It would feel like betraying him. Especially now that Eddie couldn’t even bear looking at Richie without tears welling up in his eyes. Bev could see it. She saw the hurt. But she didn’t know how to help. She didn’t know how the Toziers felt and, frankly, she felt that there were more pressing matters that required her attention.

“A lot of memories, huh?” Ben grumbled, stopping for a moment to look at the well before them. “All bad.”

“Try looking at it this way. This is the last time you’ll have to go down there.” Y/N threw in as she stood by Ben before all of them took the last few steps. The last few steps before the abyss. Before they would climb down again and be faced with things none of them had expected to see again.

Ben smiled at her sadly as he walked, hand reaching over to give her a gentle pat on the shoulder. Y/N returned the smile but her body shook with fear as she stepped down the wobbly, ominously creaking stairs.

What followed was an agonisingly slow descend down the well that held so many dangers. Mike went first. With their generally broader frames, the adults had an easier time gripping the walls, slowly climbing down. None of them showed much of a struggle as they climbed down. Mike, then Bill, Ben, Richie, who helped Y/N, making sure that she wouldn’t get hurt, and at last there were Eddie and Bev.

“Aw, man.” Y/N said as she left the tunnel, stepping into the water of the sewers. Her shoes immediately filled with water and she was sure they would make a disgusting squelching sound whenever she took a step if she wasn’t dragging her feet through the muggy water. A smell that almost burned in her eyes filled her nostrils and as she looked up at Richie, she was sure that she wasn’t the only one overcome with nausea. Richie’s face was as white as a ghost and his hands were evidently shaking. His flashlight moved unsteadily.

“Bleurgh, Grey water.” Eddie said as he jumped into the water, followed by Beverly. She spared a glance directed at Y/N and Richie before taking a second to look around the tunnels that seemed eerily familiar yet incredibly foreign.

“You good?” Y/N asked Eddie who looked up at her with widened eyes. He nodded quickly, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again and moving forward. Richie watched the moment, uneasiness washing over him as Eddie hid away in a shell that Richie wasn’t used to. Y/N looked up at her father, her eyes filled with worry. Richie nodded in understanding before they, too, followed the group, moving together as one.

As if natural, they moved through the tunnels, echoes of the waves they created preceded their own steps. It was an almost calm atmosphere if it wasn’t for the looming darkness, the evil around every corner, behind every wall, hidden away just behind them, maybe in front, but never leaving them alone.

“How do you guys know where you’re going?” Y/N dared to ask, breaking the silence that laid itself over the Losers like a net, trapping them effectively.

“We don’t.” Mike replied. “We just follow our instincts.”

Y/N nodded but she didn’t understand. Richie inhaled sharply through his nose. He wasn’t even sure they understood. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Walking a certain direction just felt either right or wrong. That’s how they knew. But just to be sure, Eddie was walking close to the front, he was the one with the best orientation, even in the sewers where every path looked like the one before.

The water was rising gradually. At first it only reached Y/N’s ankles, then her calves, her thighs and, as they reached what seemed to be a destination, the water almost reached over her hips.

“Shit. This is it. This is where it happened.” Ben said, the words just flowing out of his mouth. Like he had no control over his speech anymore. And he probably hadn’t.

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine. Ice cold, like a shower. Her body jerked as her eyes landed on the construction in the middle of the room. A wooden platform, surrounded by rubbish, trash, probably debris. Y/N was sure she could even spot a few toys, the thought making her sick to the stomach.

“Is this where IT took the kids to float?” she asked the group, their solemn faces in return were enough of an answer. Bile rose to her mouth, the girl clutched her stomach in hopes to calm it down. Beverly laid a hand on her back as Richie looked at her with curious yet worried eyes. She shook them off, shaking her head as she mustered up a smile. Y/N swallowed the bile before stepping closer to the room that held so many previous dangers. One after another, the Losers climbed into the sewer room. It was deeper and flooded, even the tallest were sinking almost chest deep into the water. Bill observed Y/N as Richie was busy climbing into the cold water himself, holding her up when she slipped, almost getting lost in the dirty water.

“Thanks.” Y/N mumbled. Bill nodded but even in the second of holding her up by her arms, he could feel the tension in the young girl. Something he usually only encountered in adults, most prominently Audra, but he couldn’t help but feel miserable for her. Bill still felt that it was his fault she was dragged into this mess and he wanted to make damn sure that she would get out of it alive. She and Richie. He owed her that much. He was convinced he did.

The group waded through the muddy water. The last time they had been in the sewers, the water wasn’t there, children were floating, and toys and rubble were stacked way up high. They were relieved to say the least as they didn’t spot a child nearby, however the relief was short-lived.

“No, no, no, no, no. Ugh, no.” Eddie said, hands raised above the water, his face scrunched up in disgust while a teddy bear that was floating on the water moved his way. Richie made a little wave, moving the bear into a different direction without touching it and offering Eddie a smile. Eddie returned a tight-lipped smile. But Richie found some thankfulness in his eyes. His heart was put at ease.

Mike climbed onto the platform, followed by Bill. A line had formed and to Y/N it looked almost comically in order.

“Bevvie.” A harsh whisper sounded somewhere behind Beverly. She turned around, body moving on its own as she panned the flashlight around, looking for the source of the sound. The water reflected the light. It moved slowly. Menacingly.

Ben turned around after a few steps. “What is it?” he breathed towards Beverly as he noticed the gap between the two and her back turned towards him.

“I thought I heard something.” Bev replied. Her voice sounded light, relieved. Nothing was there. Just the wind. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. She turned around, a small smile tugging on her lips.

A piercing scream. Beverly. The Losers only had seconds to get a grip on the situation. IT was there. In the form of a deformed old woman. IT grabbed Bev’s head, a threatening yet taunting look on IT’s face as it turned around to Ben. He called her name. But he was petrified.

“Time to sink!” IT yelled out in a raspy voice. A second later, Bev disappeared underwater. Richie quickly pushed Y/N onto the platform before jumping to Bev’s help like the rest of the Losers’ Club. Well, everyone minus Eddie.

Petrified, he sat there, eyes fixed on the water as Y/N moved closer to her only source of protection. Eddie looked at her, eyes wild with fear, as he sat still. Eddie didn’t dare to move a limb.

“Guys?” he called out towards the not calm water. “Okay, guys. Come on.”

“Dad?” Y/N asked, clutching her wet shirt with fear.

“Hey, guys? Hey guys, come on. Please, come on. I don’t want to walk out of here alone.” Eddie whimpered, tears shining in his eyes. Y/N’s head whipped towards the man, sympathy clouding her mind and body.

“Eddie, hey, Uncle Eds.” She said, taking his face into her hands. She forced him to look at her, away from the water. “You’re not gonna walk out of here alone. I’m with you. We got each other.” She said. Y/N tried her best to sound strong, convincing even. But she failed herself, and with that, she failed Eddie.

“They’re gonna be alright, we’re gonna be alright. We’re all gonna walk out of here and we’re gonna be happy and you and Richie can finally get your shit together.” She was ranting desperately. Suddenly, they were clawing at each other, holding onto each other for dear life. They were shaking in each other’s arms, whimpering, even a few tears found their way out. But for the first time since walking down into the sewers, maybe even for the first time since stepping into the house at Neibolt street, they felt something that resembled safety and comfort.

Anxious eyes watched the water surface.

It was still. Nothing happened. Nothing moved. Y/N felt her chest ache with fear for her father. For the only family she had known.

Then, five heads popped up, gasping for air.

Eddie and Y/N exhaled with relief. Beverly struggled a little, coughing and sputtering as her lungs finally filled with air again. Ben held her, supported her body as each of the Losers slowly waded back to the dry land.

“Mike, where do we go from here?” Richie asked as he made his way to Y/N and Eddie. With that, the group gathered around a door in the wooden floor, something that had lain hidden the first time around. The group gathered in a circle around the door with the strange carving. One more fidgety than the other. They were about to enter foreign territory and none of them liked the idea.

“In the depths is where it crept. In the beneath to find belief. In the depths is where it crept. In the beneath to find belief.” Mike chanted; voice eerily calm. To an outsider it might seem like he knew what he was doing, but did he really?

“Is he okay?” Ben whispered; eyebrows furrowed.

“I think at this point that’s a relative question.” Richie replied while his daughter merely shook her head with widened eyes.

“What’s on the other side?” Bev asked. She had her arms wrapped around herself as the cold took over her drenched body.

“I don’t know. No one does.” And with that, he opened the door. The Losers took a step back, taken aback at Mike’s sudden action, the bravery and stupidity it took. Mike shone the light down the tunnel and after a particularly short evaluation, he sat down at the edge, ready to climb down.

“M-Mike, don’t-“ Bill said, reaching out to his friend.

“All right. See you down there.” Mike exclaimed, ignoring his friends. Exclamations of his name paired with the word ‘wait’ were met with deaf ears as he descended into the unknown. Worried glances followed him as he slowly descended into the unknown.

“St-Stay together.” Bill said to the remaining Losers as he leaned down, crouching, ready to follow Mike. Ben replied with a whispered ‘okay’ as he too watched with discomfort as one of his best friends climbed down into the darkness.

“You guys, I can’t do it.” Eddie said suddenly. Y/N felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Richie felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he watched his friend crumble, succumb to his own insecurities.

“I can’t. You saw what happened up there. I was gonna- I was gonna let you die.” Eddie mumbled. He wasn’t sure who he was addressing with his word-vomit. Whether it was the group, the Toziers or just himself. But he knew he couldn’t. The pressure was too high. He couldn’t function like that. He wouldn’t. And, with the trapdoor opened, the finality of the moment seemed all too real. Eddie wasn’t ready to face it. Eddie wasn’t ready to see his friends get hurt or - much worse - die. And he was sure at least one of them was going to lose their life. The stakes were high, the risks even higher. And what were seven Losers supposed to do when facing an entity whose full potential none of them were aware of?

Y/N shook her head, slowly stepping closer to Eddie while everyone else remained frozen. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if words were even so much as necessary in that situation.

“I just fucking froze up.” Eddie continued his little rant. “If you let me go down there with you, I’m gonna get us all killed.”

Eddie inhaled sharply, his new inhalator from Keene’s drugstore filled his lungs with relief, the sharp pain slowly ebbing away. But the relief was only short lived as something – or more someone – grabbed the inhalator and pulled it away from Eddie’s lips. Placebo or not, Eddie felt as though the last thing keeping him alive was taken from him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Gimme that.” Richie said as he tried to steal the little metal piece of shit.

“Richie-“

“Let go, you little turd!”

“Just let me get…” Eddie sprayed into the air, the medicine immediately evaporated, but he tried to breathe it in still. Richie suddenly waved his flashlight before Eddie’s eyes, the light blinding him, causing him to let go.

“Listen to me. You had a moment. Fine. But who killed a psychotic clown before he was 14?” Richie asked as he towered over the smaller man. Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, emotions not really obvious to those standing by. Except for Y/N. She knew that Richie’s heart was beating faster because he was standing so close to Eddie and not just because of the clown. She knew Richie’s palms were sweaty because he was afraid to let go of Eddie, but also because touching him was just as scary. She knew that Richie was scared because he didn’t know if either of them would make it out alive. She knew that Richie wouldn’t want to lose sight of either of them. She knew that he wanted to keep them close and get them out alive.

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, every fibre of his body begged for him to disagree, to say that it wasn’t him. But he finally pressed out an unsure ‘me’.

“Who stabbed Bowers with a knife he pulled out of his own face?”

“Also me.” Eddie said, not daring to look up at Richie. It reminded him of how Eddie had failed him.

“Who married a woman 10 times his own body mass?”

The Losers were met with silence.

“Really? Wow. Didn’t know he had it in him.” Y/N mumbled to Ben and Bev who almost snorted with surprise.

“…Me.” Eddie finally looked up at Richie. Looked him in the eyes. Eddie felt his heart swell with pride as he caught Richie smiling. Richie nodded.

“You’re braver than you think.” Richie said, hand landing on Eddie’s shoulder. A soft smile still tugged at his lips as he watched Eddie grow in himself. The air was thick with tension. Y/N watched the two men with wide eyes and a grin that couldn’t be bigger. She caught herself just in time, not wanting to ruin the moment by squealing and cheering for the two blind lovebirds to take a step.

“Alright. Thanks Rich.” Eddie replied, facial features growing softer. Richie couldn’t take his eyes off Eddie, couldn’t get himself to look away. He felt out of character as he looked at the smaller man with literal heart eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted to step closer to Eddie and press his own lips against Eddie’s. He wanted to know how they felt, how they tasted, wanted to know how this side of himself would feel.

Y/N watched on, biting on her thumbnail as to keep quiet and not ruin the moment. She had never seen her father look at anyone with as much adoration as he mustered up in that moment on the edge between life and death. The sewers had proven themselves to be an unpredictable place.

Richie raised his hand on instinct, wanting to lay it on Eddie’s cheek, cup it to pull Eddie closer, but he forgot about the bandage that still covered half of Eddie’s face. Just when Y/N was sure they were about to kiss, Richie lightly slapped Eddie’s cheek and pulled away.

The grin was wiped from Y/N’s face and even Ben and Beverly, who had remained unsuspecting up until that point, found themselves disappointed at the lack of action. Richie stepped away, walking back to his little one who just blinked at him.

“What the fuck, man.” Y/N said, only for her father to hear.

“What?!”

“I had such high hopes for you two. And you fucked up. No wonder you haven’t gotten any in ages, old man.” Y/N mumbled as they watched Beverly hand over the rusty metal pole from the fence outside to Eddie.

“Oh fuck off, I fucked your mum. That should be about enough.” Richie mumbled until he realised what he had said. A joke that usually was so light-hearted between the two now felt incredibly heavy. “Y/N, I-“

“It’s alright, Richie. Forget about it.” She replied, giving him a half-smile before walking over to Eddie. Richie sighed, running a hand over his own face. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, in fact he was trying to make fun of himself, but he hurt the one he loved the most. It stung in his chest, left a foul taste in his mouth as he watched his daughter interact with Eddie. She was his daughter, Richie had almost no doubt. At least one way. She knew she was his in a psychological way too. She would always look at him as such, but it hurt to not know the truth, not know who she was or who he was. She felt incomplete. And yet, she didn’t feel angry about Richie’s joke. Not really. Y/N knew he only meant well.

“Hey Eddie, whatcha got there?” Y/N asked the man, who still warily watched the pole in his hand.

“I don’t know. Bev said it kills monsters.”

“Well, I guess that gives us a little advantage.” Y/N smiled, but the smile faded just as quickly as it had come. “Listen, uncle Eds. Just the fact that you’re here already makes you a brave man. And I don’t mean the sewers. I mean coming back to Derry. It must’ve been a nightmare and I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for not giving up yet and letting IT win. And I promise you we will all get out of this alive. If you believe that we will.”

Eddie didn’t say a word, he just pulled her in for a hug. His eyes found Richie’s for a moment. Richie smiled. And so did he. It felt like Eddie had just found the family he had always craved.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!)

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19tozier · 4 years

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something human (richie tozier)

warnings: fluffy n sweet, 2019!richie x reader, assume this takes place before any events of chapter 2

based on the song something human by muse

[losers&reader are adults in this]

richie plasters a smile on his face, as wide as he absolutely can. the crowd is cheering for him, applauding and hooting and yelling, and it’s a sight that will never fail to make him feel warm. he’s worked his entire life for this, and it always feels good to have it pay off.

for now though, he’s drained, and all he can think about is the call he always looks forward to making when he gets backstage.

as soon as the curtains close, his smile drops, the bone-deep exhaustion making itself known. he goes through the motions of what’s expected of him: he drinks the water bottle thrown at him, he wipes his forehead on a towel he passes to some stagehand, and he only half-listens as his manager blabbers in his ear.

he manages to tune everyone and everything around him out until he’s safely in his dressing room, the door closed and no one to disturb him until he has to leave. it makes something in his chest loosen.

his phone is plugged in exactly where he left it, fully charged in anticipation for his routine. he picks it up and takes it off the charger, smiling at his lock screen.

it’s a picture of you and him from right before he’d left for this tour, sleepy and rumpled on the couch. you’re dressed in one of his sweaters, your cheek pressed into his neck as you smile for the camera. he’s pulling a goofy face, unable to keep serious even for a moment. it was one of the best nights he can remember in a long time.

the picture makes his heart feel three sizes too big, especially when he unlocks his phone to click on your contact. it only rings once before you answer it, breathless.

“hi, rich,” you murmur, your voice warm and bright and so deliriously happy to talk to him.

the tension in all of his muscles melts away at the sound of your voice, a tired but genuine smile creeping across his mouth. “hey there, angel,” he murmurs back, kicking his feet up onto the counter.

“how was your show?” you ask him, the same question you always ask, and you sound so soft and so sweet that richie almost has to scream.

he shakes his head even though you can’t see it. “same old, same old. got a lotta laughs tonight, you know how it is.” he pauses, thinking back to what he just performed. “the joke you wrote was the best part.”

you giggle, slightly breathless. “the one about your weird kink?”

he’s too warm at the sound of your voice to really take offense to your teasing of him, but he plays the part anyways. “yes, the one about my weird kink, asshole.” he rolls his eyes. “i still stand by the fact that just because i accidentally slipped into a voice one time does not mean i have a kink.”

you hum. he can hear the smile when you say, “sure, baby, whatever tickles your pickle.” you giggle to yourself.

he smirks. “well, darlin’, that would actually be you who—”

“richie!” you cut him off, laughing so hard you wheeze.

he can picture you in his mind: you’re probably curled up in the corner of the giant couch in the living room, some crime show paused on the tv. he knows you’re wearing one of his sweaters and some fuzzy socks, because the snapchat you sent him right before the show featured both. the phone is probably jammed against your ear and you’ve probably got a glass of wine sitting on the coffee table.

it sounds so cozy, and he knows it would be even cozier if he was there with you. all of a sudden, there’s a lump in his throat.

“i miss you so much, (y/n),” he rasps before he can stop himself. he usually tries not to break down like this, acutely aware that him being gone is already hard enough on you, but this time he can’t help it.

you’re silent for just a beat too long before you whisper, “i miss you too, rich.” the tears in your voice are painfully obvious. the mood from before has all but disappeared. “i miss you so much.”

richie swallows, trying to keep his composure. “only twenty more shows, doll. twenty-three more days, and then i’m right there with you.”

you sniffle and his heart breaks. “only three more weeks,” you repeat weakly. you sigh, the sound just barely loud enough for him to hear. “i hope they go by quickly.”

he sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. “me too, baby.”

he knows he doesn’t have long before he has to load onto the tour bus, and you’re probably just as exhausted as he is. it’s relatively late for you in LA and he feels bad keeping you up.

“i love you, angel,” he says, a bit desperately. he knows you know, the ring on your finger and the wedding on the horizon proof of that, but he’ll never get tired of telling you.

you make a soft sound, almost awed, and he’s lit up again by the reverent way you whisper, “i love you too, richie. i love you so much.”

he leans back, beginning to tell you some silly story of whatever happened that day. as he hears your giggles, he thinks, i really hope these next three weeks go by quickly.

***

it’s quiet in the apartment when richie lets himself in.

he’s certain it’s because you’re still asleep. it’s early in the morning after all, and you don’t know he’s home. as far as you’re concerned, his flight lands tonight. he didn’t tell you he’d managed to snag the last seat on a much earlier flight.

it’d been a hard tour, on both of you. this is the longest either of you have been apart, and his crazy schedule meant your phone calls after his shows were sometimes your only communication at all. it hurt to be away from you, but now he’s home, and he’s determined to stay at your side for as long as possible.

he smiles to himself, dropping his bags by the couch and gently placing his keys on the counter. he’ll deal with unpacking later, maybe after some kisses and a nap.

the bedroom door is slightly open when he gets to it, so it’s easy to push open without creating any noise. he quickly shuts it behind himself, not wanting the light from the windows in the hallway to wake you up and ruin his surprise.

he has to suppress his coo at how adorable you are, curled onto his side of the bed with your arms wrapped around his pillow. you’re only wearing one of his shirts and underwear, and it makes heat pool through richie’s veins. later, he tells himself.

quietly, he toes his shoes off and pulls off his jeans and jacket until he’s left only in a t-shirt and his boxers, much like you. only then does he let himself climb into bed beside you.

you don’t wake up immediately. you just scrunch your nose and murmur something unintelligible, rubbing your cheek against the pillow. it’s so adorable richie can’t help but reach out to cup your jaw, and that’s what finally wakes you up.

you blink your eyes open, disoriented, and you don’t really register that it’s richie in front of you for a couple of seconds. when you do, though, you gasp, quickly reaching out to pull him into your arms.

“what’re you doing home?” you breathe against his neck, holding him so tightly his ribs ache. he laughs into your skin. “i thought your flight wasn’t until later!”

he presses his lips to your forehead. “wanted to surprise ya, doll.”

his fingers won’t stop running up and down your back, and you’re so sleep-warm and soft that he feels his exhaustion begin to pull on him. you cuddle yourself even closer, leaning up to kiss him gently.

he hums against your mouth, fitting his hand to the back of your head to keep you there. it doesn’t lead anywhere, both of you too exhausted for much more, but it’s the thing he missed the most on tour. this simple intimacy with you, and the humanity of being in your arms. it’s more powerful than he will ever understand.

“i love you,” he mumbles into the kiss, tightening his hold around your waist. “i love you, i love you, i lo—“

“rich,” you laugh, pulling back to kiss his cheek. you gently take his glasses from his face and put them on the bedside table. the blurred smile on your face makes him more sleepy. “i know. i love you too.”

you snuggle back beneath his chin, your eyes already closing. he presses his mouth to your temple, holding it there as he, too, starts to drift off.

“i’m really glad you’re home,” you whisper into the quiet, your lips moving against his skin.

he smiles, pulling you closer. “me too, angel.”

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Color explosion (stenbrough x reader)

A/N: This was requested by @stanleyurisgirl. Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! Also yes I’m aware the titel sucks 😂

Summary: If possible could I request a soulmate au where the reader's soulmate's are Stanley Uris and bill Denbrough, could it be where soulmate's are colour blind until they meet their soulmate and can see in color?

‘Can you fucking watch where you’re going?’ Your loud voice called out angrily to a woman who without even looking around flipped you off. You huffed, adjusting your skirt before continuing on your way. You grumbled the whole way, still wondering why you had said yes to this meeting in the first place. You were a illustrator for a marketing company, and you were on your way to meet the famous Bill Denbrough. You had read a few of his books, and beside the general outrage, you actually really liked the ending to his books, and you had a Knick for reading regardless of who the author was, but that didn’t mean you were all that excited for this project. You were supposed to read Mr. Denbrough’s new book draft, and design a book cover for it, but this was the third time already that you had tried to set up a meeting.

The first time mister Denbrough had cancelled, he said he had some family problems, and he had to go back to his hometown, though he didn’t offer up any other explanation. You had felt a bit annoyed, as you lived for away from Atlanta, where the meeting would take place, and you had already been in a hotel when he had called. Still, you understood that sometimes things could come up without any notice, so you politely said nothing and returned to Ohio, where you lived. You had never met Mr. Denbrough before, and the only reason he had your phone number was because your boss had given it to him. The second time your phone had rang and Bill Denbrough’s name popped up, he had said it was a ‘boyfriend emergency’.

Stanley Uris, you thought his name was. In the radio interviews you had listened to, solely to prepare yourself for your job you insisted, not because Bill Denbrough seemed like an interesting man, he had talked about how much he loved his boyfriend. Stanley Uris was apparently just as blindingly pretty as Bill himself was. You had never seen either one of them, not seeing the point in that, but your friends had, and they loved to tell you all about them.

They suited each other. They weren’t pretty in the same way, Bill looked like he was a laid-back looking man. He wore a lot of plaid shirts, and he dressed casually, but somehow he made it work. Stanley Uris looked more fancy, he wore a suit and tie, his curls tamed as much as they possibly could, and his posture rigid. Both of them looked like models in their own way, and together, they looked even better. Of course, that wasn’t your perspective, but you did trust the judgment of your friends, so you were excited to finally meet him.

A coworker of yours gossiped that Stan and Bill had another soulmate that they hadn’t found yet, as Bill had once mentioned that he and Stan could only see blue colors, which was unusual to say the least. When people met their soulmates, they found out what colors were. It was a universal given, that everyone had a soulmate, and once you met them, you could finally see what the big fuss about clothes were, your dad often joked that he wasn’t your mothers soulmate, because she still couldn’t match clothes at all. Your mom would huff lovingly and roll her eyes at that. It was rare to have more than one soulmate, but it did happen, yet it was very rarely talked about.

Having a second soulmate was seen as taboo, so when your coworker had told you Bill Denbrough had admitted to it on live television, you doubted it very much. When people with more than one soulmate met their first one, they would see only one part of the color scheme, until they met their other soulmate(s). You didn’t know if that was the case with Mr. Denbrough and Stanley Uris, but you weren’t too bothered about it. Being happy is always the most important thing.

You had also heard that Stanley Uris ended up in the hospital, though you didn’t know for what, so while it made sense that Bill was taking care of him, you felt irritated that you had yet again came to Atlanta for nothing. The hotel your boss made you stay in was comfortable, but it didn’t do anything to make you miss your own home any less. You missed your dog when you went away, even though your dog was content to stay with your parents for a couple of days. You had once more said nothing, instead wishing Mr. Denbrough luck. Afterwards though, you reached out to your boss. You weren’t close to her, but that didn’t stop you from telling her that if Bill Denbrough canceled one more time, you were not going to design his cover any more. Your boss complained, but ultimately agreed, which brought you to Atlanta for a third time, and you swore to your parents up and down that this would be the last time that you would drop your dog, stitch, off at their house.

They didn’t mind, in fact, they loved the fact that you were gone. Your mother told you one time that it might be the time Where you would finally meet your soulmate, which caused you to dismount very quickly. Soulmates were a touchy subject in the family, considering you had still not, found your soulmate. Your mother had often pushed on the issue, saying that your biological clock was ticking,

And that she would love to become a grandmother before she died. She had said it in a joking way, though you knew she meant every word of it. She had been pushing you to find your soulmate since you were only 12 years old, and so many fights in the family between your mom and dad went about you. You didn’t even know if you wanted children, because you refused to bring a child into this world that would have two bickering parents all the time.

Your words ran through your head though, and you had looked around Atlanta thoughtfully, hoping that you would suddenly see color. This was the third time you had been here though, and you still had no luck. You were starting to think that you may not even have a soulmate, that you were destined to live your life in a black and white world, I’m a world where you would never be able to match your clothes, or pick out wall colors. It upset you sometimes, like when your best friend got married and you couldn’t help her pick a dress because you couldn’t see the color it was in, but for the most part you had just accepted this as a part of you, and you were okay with it.

You had finally reached the address Bill had given you, not too far away from the train station which you had used, and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. You’re face lit up with a fake smile right away, because you were a professional, and even though Mr. Denbrough got on your last nerve, you were going to be polite

You were surprised that you had actually gotten an address from Mr. Denbrough, as the previous times you had an appointment, you were supposed to meet in a cafe nearby. It seemed like he know that you were close to quitting and decided that having you come over to his home would mean that you could relax a little more. You knocked, and for a few minutes nothing happened, then the heavy door creaked open and a woman stood in the door opening. She was smiling, and she looked absolutely beautiful, even without you being able to see color. ‘You must be Y/N? I’m Beverly, come in, Bill’s caught up in writing again.’ As she said it she extended her hand and you politely shook hers.

She lead you into the home, past the living room where shouting voices could be heard, ‘eat shit trashmount’, but Bev led you over to another door, opening without hesitation. She turned around motioning for you to get in and smiled once more. ‘Don’t get too caught up in how he looks, I swear he’s a professional’, she winked, before walking back to the living room. You wondered if you looked okay, considering you had no idea which colors you were combining.

You stepped into the room, the first thing you noticed was that it was messy place. There were papers everywhere, cups of coffee on the floor where you were sure you there shouldn’t be, and in the middle of it all sat a man, with his back towards you. In front of him, there was another door, leading into a room you couldn’t see from this angle. The man hadn’t appeared to hear you come in, too busy typing furiously.

You coughed lightly, trying to get his attention. His head shot up, and he turned around. ‘Oh I’m so sorry, I completely forgot you were coming today, you must be’. He cut himself off. You suddenly had a pounding headache, so extreme you stumbled backwards, keeping yourself upright on the door.

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing deeply in through your noise as you tried to calm down. You heard Bill’s breathing pick up a notch, but you were too busy trying to deal with your own pain. After a few seconds of this, your eyes blinked open, heavy and you squinted against the light coming in through the window. Suddenly, your own breathing picked up.

You could see, what you guessed was the color red. It looked so beautiful, and you nearly cried. It was the color of Bill’s shirt, and a deviant of the color was on the walls, orange or pink, you remembered. When you were a child, your school taught tried to teach you colors, but it was hard when most of the kids hadn’t met their soulmates yet. You barely registered Bill, slowly rising from his chair. You looked down, and saw that you had were wearing a lighter red jacket. With tears in your eyes you looked at Bill, who himself was looking at you with tears in his eyes. ‘Hey, Bill would you like a drink’? Someone called out from inside the other room, his voice like velvet.

A confused frown appeared on your face, didn’t Bill have Stan as a soulmate yet? You looked around the room once more, and noticed that some of the colors still weren’t visible to you. You suddenly remembered what you coworker had told you, that Bill had said that he and Stan still hadn’t found their other soulmate. He was so close to you now, if he took one more step forward, the two of you would be pressed together.

Bill ignored his words, instead calling out a quick, ‘Stan, Stan get in here now please’.

Almost immediately, another man came running into the room. He looked scared, but when his eyes landed on Bill he let out a sigh of relief. Bill glanced at him quickly before turning back to you. The man followed suit, and the second your eyes met, you felt the same pain once more. Your knees buckled, but Bill acted fast and caught you in his arms. You collapsed against him, but this time you opened your eyes quicker than before. ‘Stan’, Bill breathed, and ‘Stan’ looked up at him. His eyes were open as well, and he looked around the room in wonder, before his eyes settled on you, his mouth dropping open slightly.

You looked up at Bill, who helped you stand up again, but kept his arms encircled around you anyway. His eyes were blue, an amazing ocean blue. A smile took over your features once more, you could see every color now. Dark, light, bright, not so bright. Every single one of the colors were full of life, and you couldn’t get enough from watching them. Your friends were right, both Stan and Bill looked absolutely stunning in their own way. Stan’s curls were a dark color, and you reached up and whipped a curl out of his face.

Stan smiled, his hand cupping yours, grabbing your hand tightly. Bill turned your head, leaned down, and kissed you without thinking twice. You kissed him messily, at first hesitant, but after a few seconds the both of you pushed your nervousness aside, and kissed like your life depended on it.

You felt dazed, so full of happiness. Stan and Bill shared a kiss too, and you felt a bomb of happiness in your heart. You had not one, but two soulmates, how lucky were you?

Stan leaned forward a bit, but instead of kissing you on the lips, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m sorry’, he murmured, ‘I’m not good with germs’. You laughed, reaching your arms around his midsection, shaking you head. ‘Don’t apologize.’

‘I’m Bill, but I think you already knew that’, Bill laughed, his hand reached out for Stan, who immediately took it.

‘I’m Stan’, Stan continued, still leaning close to you.

Still dazed from the amount of love you were feeling, and from all the color attacking your eyes you merely replied with; ‘I have a dog called Stitch.’

The loud laughs both Stan and Bill let out made you laugh too, and you had never felt more at ease than you were now. Thank god for your boss.

#stenbrough imagine #stenbrough #stan x reader #bill x reader #stanley uris imagine #bill denbrough imagines #My writing #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2 #adult losers #the losers club imagines

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dreamdaydreamer · 4 years

Text

27 Years [Adult Stan Uris]

A/n: This is over 2000 words, I got carried away, sorry about that! But anyway, hope you enjoy. Requests are open! :)

***

Twenty-two years. That’s how long it’d been since you’d last seen Stanley Uris. He left Derry in 1994, just like you, to go to university. You promised to keep in touch, to see each other as often as possible, you were in love after all. But for some reason that had never happened. At first you would call each other as often as possible. Then it slowly became less and less. Until one day you just stopped speaking. Stopped meeting up. Stopped everything.

Soon after you finished your degree, you ended up back in Derry, having to move back there when your father died and deciding to stay. Until then, you’d forgotten all about Stanley Uris, it was only when you had gone back to Derry that you started to remember. Started to remember him, and the days you would spend together, bird watching, playing board games, studying. You had a lot in common with him, at the time you had believed that you were soulmates, but you didn’t believe that anymore. You didn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.

You’d tried to pursue some sort of happiness in Derry. You dated a few guys, no one special though, no one like Stan. You never fell in love with anyone like you had been when you’d been in love with him. So instead you settled by yourself, opening a little book shop in town, quite popular with the locals. You lead a quiet life, and for the meantime, you were happy with that. You attempted to push Stan to the back of your mind and, although you really did try, it proved very difficult, seeming to be able to relate anything to memories of him.

The autumn season had started to come into its own. The weather cooling down from the blistering summer, breezes whistling through town although it still wasn’t cool enough to wear a coat, orange and gold leaves scattered the path.

It was just a routine day in your simple life, stocking shelves and serving the few people who came in. It wasn’t really the shopping season yet, most of your customers came closer to Christmas, burdened with the rush to buy presents for others. And so today you mainly sat behind the counter, reading a copy of one of your own books, sighing to yourself from time to time when the reading strained your eyes too much and you had to put the book down, boredom overtaking you once again.

Stan made his way through the Derry streets, reminiscing about all the time he’d spent there as a kid. When Mike had first called Stan, memories of Derry had come rushing back to him. Mostly the Losers Club, what they had faced together, as well as the good memories they had made over the years. And then he remembered you. He wondered how he could have ever forgotten about you. You were his first love, his only love. Quite possibly his soulmate, Stan realised this was probably why he had never married over the past twenty-two years. He had tried to settle down, to be in a serious relationship, but he never could. The people he had dated were nice but there was always something that wasn’t quite right, Stan could never put his finger on it. Until now.

Throughout his short time back in Derry, Stan had wondered whether you were here. He knew that you’d gone to university, and he knew that you had bigger dreams outside of Derry, but maybe, just maybe you were here. Maybe he would get to see you again.

Derry hadn’t changed much since the last time Stan had been there. The shops were mostly the same. The antique shop, the pharmacy, the ice cream shop, all stood exactly where they had done twenty-seven years ago. It was like Derry was its own time capsule. History trapped in modernity. The buildings looked more derelict than Stan could remember, but the signs and decorations stayed the same, paint peeled off them now. There was something new though. A bookshop. A bookshop that stood on the corner of the street, the most recent shop to open judging by the appearance of it. The oak wood hadn’t faded, the windows were sparkling clean and the signs hadn’t started to peel off. Stan had to double-take when he saw the name of the shop. Y/n’s Corner. His mind instantly thought of you, you had always loved books. He crossed the road, moving to stand in front of the window, peering in. At first, he couldn’t see anything, and his heart sank. Of course, you wouldn’t be here, you were probably out living your best life, successful, married maybe, a family. The thought chewed Stan like a dog would a bone, sinking its teeth into his flesh. It’s not that Stan wouldn’t be happy for you, he would, he would just wish that it would have been him you had married, him that you’d chosen to settle down with. As he flipped the idea over and over in his mind, he caught a glimpse of someone at the counter of the shop, and with a closer look, he knew it was you. Even though it had been so long since you’d seen each other, he recognised you immediately, you were still the same beauty he had been in love with twenty-two years ago. You disappeared into the back of the shop as Stan entered, the little bell above the door chiming.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” God, Stan thought, even your voice is the same. Lilting, and made Stan’s heartbeat twice as fast. In a few moments, he would be face to face with you, after all this time. What would he say to you? He had too much to say, not sure where to even start. He wanted to apologise for being away for so long, for forgetting, he wanted to tell you that he’d missed you, even if he hadn’t remembered you, there was always a part of him missing, and that it was you, he wanted to tell you how much he loved, loves, you, and how, even now, after all of this time, his heart beats only for you. How when he hears your voice, a smile makes its way onto his face subconsciously, how when he sees your face, he can hear the blood pumping round his body, he becomes light-headed and his knees turn weak, just like they had done when he saw you for the first time. He feels like a teenager again, feelings all jumbled and messy but it’s perfect and he feels liberated for the first time in years. He’s planned a speech in his head of everything he wants to say and how he wants to say it, maybe it will be just him spilling out his thoughts and feelings into one big sentence, the words tumbling out of him before he’s able to pull them back into his mouth. But they’ll be there, out in the open, no matter how they get there, then you’ll know. You’ll know how much he loves you. But how will you react? What if you hate him? What if you resent him because he forgot about you? What if you don’t love him anymore? Stan wouldn’t know what to do. What would be the point in carrying on when all he’s lived for is gone. You’re the reason he forced himself to come back to Derry, to face this clown, the hope that he will finally be able to live the life he’d always wanted too, with you. Even so, he’s ready to tell you all that he feels, no matter the outcome.

But then suddenly you’re stood in front of him. And everything he had planned to say, everything he wanted to tell you, runs away from him so fast that there’s no point chasing after it. Neither of you say anything, there was no reason too. Everything that the both of you wanted to say hung in the air between you, hidden in the irises of your eyes, pushed out in the short breaths. You couldn’t believe that he was there, in front of you, and your face paled, like you were seeing his ghost. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. And to him, you are. You’re every star in the sky, every pearl in the sea, every flower on the land. You’re every breezy spring day and romantic winter night wrapped up into one, emitting warmth and light and love with every movement. He’s looking at you in awe, he’s making you feel like he used too twenty-two years ago. He’s making you feel loved.

Twenty-two years ago, you had been in love. Twenty-two years later, you were still in love. You wondered whether it was Derry, everything here always stayed the same, maybe that meant the people within it too, maybe the reason why you still loved him was because Derry had frozen you in time. Still ageing, but always the same. But you also wondered whether it was just Stan. Stan. The man you’d loved for so long simply because of who he was. Maybe you were still in love with him because it was too hard to fall out of love with a man like that.

Then he smiles at you shyly, almost like he’s embarrassed, and in that moment, he looks younger, much younger. Like when you first met and he was looking up at you from the floor of the school corridor, after you’d shouted at Henry Bowers for pulling Stan’s Kippah from his curls. Any thought that the man in front of you isn’t Stan, that he’s some kind of imposter, fades away from you as realisation sets in. It is him. For some reason the thought shocks you more than his presence, after believing for so long that you would never see him again, the fact that he’s here, before you, makes you violently shiver and you wrap your arms around yourself as a tear slips down your face. You don’t know why you’re crying; you’re feeling too many emotions at once. Elation, love, relief, but also sadness too, sad that you’d missed out on so much time with him.

Stan doesn’t know why you’re crying either, so he panics, maybe he shouldn’t have come back. Maybe you really do hate him. He’s hurt, of course, but he only wants the best for you, only wants you to be happy.

“I…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come. You must hate me, and I understand, I mean I…” Stan continues to ramble, listing all of the reasons why he should leave, and then he is. He is leaving and you’re pulled out of your trance. You can’t let him leave again. Stan makes his way to the door, but he’s stopped by a small tug on his woolly cardigan, when he turns, he sees you stood there, tears streaming down your face as you continue to cling to him.

“Please don’t leave me again, Stan.” You push yourself into his arms, burying your face into his chest and crying even harder than before. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around you as he immerses himself in your scent. Your hair still smells heavenly and your scent takes him back to when he was young, warming him from the inside out and sending tingles down his spine, a feeling of safety blooming in his stomach. Stan doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is right now, knowing that you’ve missed him as much as he’s missed you.

The past twenty-two years Stan had been frightened, frightened of his past. And sure, he has good reason, he was traumatised by a child-killing clown. He almost nearly skipped out on returning to Derry altogether, not sure whether he was brave enough to face his fears again, but now he’s glad that he did. Now, Stan’s more motivated than ever to kill IT, so that he can have the life he’d always wanted, with the person he’d dreamt about could never quite remember.

You and Stan spent the next hour catching up in the back room of your shop. It served as a mini kitchen, small but practical, with a little breakfast table pushed up to the wall. You both sat, sipping from your warm mugs, as your hands intertwined on the tabletop, neither one of you wanted to let go now that you had found each other. The way that you both talked, it was like you’d never been apart. Stan tensed up after you asked what he was doing back in Derry.

“It’s…a long story. A story I don’t think you would believe. Hell, I don’t think I believe it myself.” You nodded, in slight disappointment, Stan had never been the type to keep anything from you. “I want to tell you, I do,” Stan rushes out, “I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy!”

“You know I would never think that about you, Stan.” You try to reassure him, but he wouldn’t crack.

“When this is all over,” he starts, unsure that it ever would be over, “I’ll tell you, I promise.” You nod slightly. “I need to go. Duty calls.” A small chuckle escapes the both of you before Stan pulls himself out of the chair, reluctantly slipping his hand out of yours. He reaches the door, but then turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I’ll come back, if that’s alright with you?”

“Be careful, Stan.” You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew that this thing, whatever it was, was serious. Dangerous, even. “Promise me I’ll see you soon?”

Stan’s heart flutters, you did want to see him again. He nods,

“Very soon. I promise.”

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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I'd like to thank It Chapter Two for not only scaring the absolute sh*t out of me, but for the burst of popularity and love my only (so far!!! I still write for the LC!!) Losers club imagine, The Tug has gotten suddenly. Glad to see ol' Stan the Man getting some love!

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billhaderlovebot · 5 years

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SEND REQUESTS PLS I LOVE U.

requests open for the losers club, 2017 and 2019. im really wanting to write atm so hmu babies.

#it chapter 2 #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #mike hanlon #richie tozier #adult richie #richie tozier x reader #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom #stanley uris #stan uris #stanley uris x reader #beverly marsh #beverly marsh x reader #losers club

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stanthemanstan · 4 years

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒌𝒚 𝑰𝒔 𝒂 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏

"It has a place for both of us... For you with the birds, and for me with the stars."

TSIASH masterpost...

Summary:

A phone call: a reaching out.

Memories of several forms of fright returned. Moments spent with old friends —moments spent vanquishing the unknown forces of evil that plagued the town— came back to mind. The thoughts of terror that you had managed to bury had resurfaced. You’d have to return. You’d have to face them again.

Another phone call: a final conversation.

Memories of young love returned. Moments spent with someone held impossibly close —moments spent admiring and comforting each other over those other recollections— came back to mind. The thoughts of perpetual affection that was only buried with distance had resurfaced. You thought you’d return to that, but you never faced those anticipations— only with thoughts of grief.

By the time you arrived in Derry again, Stanley Uris was gone.

When you finally meet up with the remaining Losers after all of those years, you realized that there was still danger lurking in the town. As a result, you were tasked with remembrance. Remembering everything, memories from the past, little moments, the good and the bad. And with those memories came new fears to accompany the old.

Links: Chapter I ... Chapter II ...

Pairings: Stanley Uris x gender neutral reader (as well as platonic!Losers x reader, background Richie x Eddie, Beverly x Ben, and slight Bill x Mike)

Warnings: suicide, trauma, blood, death, entomophobia, arachnophobia, spoilers for both It movies

A/N: takes place mainly in It Chapter 2. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!

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arctichotch · 3 years

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if anyone wants to send me requests for adult stan uris HCs, i will happily accept. idk if there is a demand for them in any way but if there is sent them my way :) i’ll do smut, angst, fluff

i’m also going to start my other cm requests too soon enough!!

#it chapter 2 #it #it chapter 1 #stanley uris #stan uris #uris #losers club #andy bean #wyatt oleff #fic #request #stanley uris x reader #2019!stanley uris #adult!stanley uris

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anxiouslymalicious · 5 years

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Losers Club Plus One

Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series

A/N: Hi there! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a long while, but writing became more of a duty than something enjoyable so I took some time off and did some shit. I’m feeling really fucking good now, ready to get back into writing. I’m kind of nervous to post this because this is my first time writing for this fandom and the characters and I’m not sure if this is good, but it’s fun to write so I hope you guys stick with me.

This is going to be as close to the movie as possible, but there will be inserts of the book, maybe even of the 90ies movies if I feel like they would work better with the slightly off plot that I’m creating. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Oh, and the usual warnings for cursing, death, mentions of blood and alcohol etc. apply. It’s IT so shit is going down.

I hope you enjoy!

“Dad? Are you alright?” asked a small voice behind Richie as he was still in utter shock. Well, the owner of the voice wasn’t exactly small anymore, but it sounded so hesitant and broken, it might as well had been a little kid trying to catch his attention. His throat was still burning, the foul taste of bile laid heavily on his tongue. Richie’s face scrunched up in disgust as another wave if nausea hit him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good- “ He started, but was interrupted by himself as he leant over the railing and more of his stomach’s content escaped. The young girl stepped closer to her father, lying her hand on his back in a comforting manner before a group of people busied her father again, giving him booze and water before his show.

“Be good, little one.” Richie rushed out as he passed his phone to his daughter who would take it to his dressing room where it wouldn’t be any more of a distraction than it had been so far. The girl nodded and sent a smile his way, but he didn’t catch it anymore as he stormed out onto the huge stage, greeted by cheers. The smile was quickly wiped off the girl’s face as she made her way through the narrow hallways filled with too many people for her liking. Ducking under equipment, dodging people in suits who were too busy looking at their phones to realise where they were going and ignoring the voices of people telling her that she was not supposed to go into certain areas. She was, they just didn’t know, so she showed them her backstage pass and kept walking until she saw the door to her safety. Once she stepped into the stuffy room that reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, she closed the door behind her, locked it and made herself comfortable on the little couch.

Her father’s phone was buzzing in the young girl’s pocket, catching her attention. Who in hell had called and what did they say to throw her father so out of track? Judging by the nervous voices around her in the hallways, she was sure that her father wasn’t off to a good start for the show, something that hadn’t happened in ages. Not since his first actual show.

The girl was absent-mindedly biting her nails before another buzz of her father’s phone pulled her out of it and she decided to have a look. Richie’s phone was blowing up with messages from his manager, which she decided to ignore as she checked the calls. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Richie had been called by someone from Derry, Maine, but a bit of deeper digging told her that it was actually the local library’s number. Rather than reaching the sweet relief of knowing, she felt her insides churn with fear and confusion, feeling restless until she heard the familiar ruckus that ensued when her father was close to finishing a show.

It had felt like literal ages since Richie had left for the stage and the young girl was eager to ask her father about what was going on. Especially after that whole library-thing. Obviously, she had checked several times that she got the number right, and she did. Was her father throwing up because he was so nervous over a few overdue books from years ago?

The whole time she spent waiting, the girl tried to figure out whether her father had been on tour in Derry, whether he had even mentioned Derry ever before, but she was sure that, in her years of living with her father, she had never so much as heard him utter the word ‘Derry’ ever before.

Quickly, the girl moved to unlock the door so her father wouldn’t run into the door again like he had many times already, then sat down on the couch again, her leg bouncing nervously as she mindlessly tapped her fingers against the phone in her hand.

It wasn’t long until Richie stormed into the room, locking every unnecessary person out and turned to his daughter, drink in hand, holding his other hand out for her to pass him his phone. She did, following their usually so quiet routine. After spending more than an hour talking endlessly about whatever jokes they had put into the set, he was grateful when he could spent a few minutes not saying anything, just listening to the voice of his daughter telling him about what had happened in school that day, telling him what stupid things someone backstage did or what she and her friends were up to. It was relaxing to him, knowing that she was there, and her life was going somewhere.

But not this time.

“Dad why did the Derry library call you?” she asked with the calmest voice she could muster, although her voice was shaking with fear. Of what, she didn’t know, not yet, but she knew it was something big. Something bigger than her or him. Something bigger than overdue books and the terrifying old ladies that would scold you and make you feel like crying even when it had only been a day overdue.

“It wasn’t the library, it was,” Richie sighed before taking another sip of his drink, “It was an old friend of mine. Mike Hanlon. We made a promise when we were kids and now, I need to go back to Derry.” Richie mumbled into his glass. Nonetheless, she understood every single word he said.

“We.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she got up from where she was curled up on the couch.

“No. Definitely not. You’re staying here.” Richie said before downing the rest of his drink and looking through the cabinets for a new bottle.

“On my own? Or with my non-existent mother who left me at your door, remember? Or with the neighbours? The creepy ones with all those fucking life-size dolls?” she asked, her voice growing louder.

“Oh, fuck off, you’re lucky you’re my daughter, Y/N.” Richie said before letting his own body drop to the couch she had previously occupied. “Shouldn’t have let you watch my shows. Big Bill is going to love you.” Richie grumbled, rubbing his face. A grin spread on Y/N’s face as she sat next to her father, lightly leaning her head against his shoulder. Automatically, Richie’s arm spread over her shoulder, pulling her closer, trying to keep her safe from what was about to come. From the inhuman atrocities she was about to witness. Keep her safe from IT.

“When are we leaving?” she mumbled into Richie’s shoulder. Another sigh escaped his lips.

“As soon as possible.” He told her and, so, she found herself in an airplane not much later. They would fly as close to Derry as possible before taking a rental car to drive to the Derry Town House where they would be staying.

“What was Derry like? And your friends?” Y/N asked curiously as they found their seats on the plane. She watched as her father stared straight ahead for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed, as he was deep in thought.

“I- I don’t- I can’t fucking remember. I honestly can’t remember shit, Y/N.” Richie mumbled, followed by a groan as an indescribable pain shot through his eyes. He closed them tightly, his hands flying to the armrests, fingernails digging into the material. Y/N watched on, shocked to say the least. Shaking her father, she tried to find out what was wrong with him, but as suddenly as this burning pain in his eyes, behind his eyes, had appeared, it had also gone.

“Don’t worry, I’m fucking fantastic.” Richie grumbled towards his worried daughter as he leant back in his seat, trying to remember where that came from, why it felt so familiar.

After many tiresome hours that were mostly spent sleeping, with rare exceptions of Richie mumbling to string his memories together, using her as some kind of journal to keep track of what he remembered and how his memories were connected, the father-daughter-duo found themselves just outside the airport, looking for the car they rented, on wobbly legs. The sunset was about to start, the sun lazily rose, turning the deep dark blue into a pale, greyish-blue colour that slowly but surely turned into a pinkish hue.

“Did you fall asleep standing or are you just being the same lazy ass as always?” Richie screamed, standing in front of the car that seemed to be theirs. And, for the first time in many hours, Y/N could see the outlines of a genuine smile growing on her father’s face. And she couldn’t help but smile with him.

“Just wanted you to do all the searching, old man.” She grinned as she took her bag to the car and got in. Richie, obviously, searched for a radio station that played some good old rock’n’roll to distract him for the fear rising in the pit of his stomach. He was scared, but he wouldn’t admit it to his daughter. Because he wasn’t only afraid of IT and the things IT might do not only to him, but also his friends or, worst of all, his daughter, but Richie was afraid of facing his old friends. Or more those who would appear. He didn’t have high hopes for them, expecting that maybe three of them would appear and he would be able to take his and his daughter’s ass out of the town first thing after the lunch because they were not enough to defeat IT.

That thought kept Richie sane as he walked up the scarily unfamiliar yet strangely street towards the Town House. Shivers ran up and down his spine and he felt Y/N’s comforting hand on his back, trying her best to ground him. And, just like her father, Y/N wouldn’t admit that she was scared. She hadn’t seen what he had, she didn’t know what she was facing, what was so chilling about this town, its residents and its sewers, but she had never seen her father this quiet before. And that scared her.

Once they arrived in their small room, the duo sat down on the edges of their beds, silence taking over. The sun had meanwhile risen higher, clearly visible and warming the cool streets.

“Maybe we should order breakfast or nap a bit?” the young girl broke the unbearable silence, pregnant with unspoken opinions. Richie still thought she shouldn’t be here with him, but in their house back in LA. Y/N, however, was convinced that her father needed her support with whatever he was about to do. He still refused to tell her about IT, still hoping that they would be gone in a few hours and she didn’t need to be scared of something they couldn’t do anything about, something they didn’t need to fight.

Richie nodded, kicked off his shoes with a sigh and laid back on his bed. His daughter grew irritated.

“Maybe you can order something while I’m taking a shower. Maybe then you’ll have your panties untwisted.” The girl said before stepping into the small room, closing and locking the door behind her. What she didn’t expect, though, was to come face to face with a boy her age. He looked like a normal kid, soft curls surrounding his face, but there was something off about him.

“I see, the loser’s newest addition finally made it to Derry. And she has just as many secrets as all the other losers.” Said the boy with a chilling smile on his thin lips.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here and how the fuck did you get in here? You know what? Doesn’t matter right now. Just please get the fuck out.” She growled, puzzled at how neither she nor Richie had noticed a teenage boy hiding in their bathroom. Hadn’t her father used the bathroom when they first entered?

As she turned to unlock the door, an ice-cold hand laid itself on her shoulder, pulling her back into the cold body behind her. She now squirmed, trying to unlock and open the door rather frantically, desperate to get away from whatever ghostly being was behind her, but no matter how hard she tried, which way she turned the key, it did nothing to open the door.

“Dad!” she yelled, hammering her hands against the wood. “Help me! Some creep is in here and I can’t get out.” Richie was up in a flash, his heart feeling like it just dropped to his stomach, and ran to the door, yelling his little girl’s name in despair and banging his fists against the old door.

“Y/N, whatever you’re seeing is not real. Don’t be scared, it’s not real!” Richie screamed, his voice clear but shaky. The girl was confused at his utterances.

“How is he not-“ she started, but stopped when the boy was grinning at her, now looking older than before and covered head to toe in blood that was streaming from the huge cuts on his lower arms. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” she forced out instead and tried to get as far away from the being as possible.

“Don’t worry, Richie. She will float with all the other children and your dirty little secret will remain uncovered.” It said in a high voice that didn’t fit the man in front of the girl before trying to grab her throat. Y/N tried to duck away, but she felt her body being pushed forward against the sink, her head crashing against the mirror, breaking it.

“Y/N! Try to hurt it! It’s not real! Not real, it’s not real!” Richie kept yelling through the door as he kept kicking and throwing his whole body against the fragile wood. Although his words were meant to comfort his daughter, it sounded more like a mantra he was using to comfort himself. The girl listened to her father, picking up some of the shards that were now in the sink. With a swift movement, she sunk the shard into the older man’s face, pulling it down as hard as she could. A huge gash was on the man’s bloody face, but instead of more blood, some black mass seeped out of the wound, but whatever it was that was standing in front of the teenager, it didn’t seem too phased. An angry expression formed on its face before it leaped for her, grasping her throat and pushing her up against the wall. She was gasping, desperate to fill her lungs with the oxygen they were already lacking, but not yet screaming for. She squirmed, hammering the shard in her hand against the thing, successfully hurting it. It let go of her, dropping her into the bathtub below her before fleeing through the toilet.

Richie finally managed to break down the door, falling into the room only to find his daughter shaken up beyond belief, curled up in the bathtub. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes while blood streamed down her suddenly paler than usual complexion from an open wound on her forehead. She didn’t look like she had seen a ghost, she looked like she was the ghost.

“Oh god, come here. I- fuck. It’s alright, it’s over. You’re alright. Fucking hell, you’re alright.” Richie mumbled as he crawled into the bathtub with her, pulling his little girl into his arms, tightly pressing her shaking body into his chest. Soft whimpers escaped her lips against her will. Richie spread out a little, legs hanging out of the bathtub as he just tried to comfort her while trying not to lose it and leave immediately. Back to LA, where IT couldn’t reach them.

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beauregard-s · 4 years

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Decision (Bill Denbrough x Reader)

Pairing: Adult!Bill Denbrough x Uris!Reader (18+)

Word Count: 6k (I am s o r r y)

Warnings: Age gap (Bill is in his late thirties), inappropriate relationship, a lot of angst, language, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving) and some fluff

@avengxrs423 said: hi!! i absolutely loved your stans daughter(reader) x bill!! i would like to request a follow up where stan catches them!! it was one of my fav fics ever 💞

A/n: First things first, thank you so much! For your support and also for requesting this one because I really wanted to write it. The request is pretty self-explanatory, this fic comes as a part two for this headcanon. Hope you like it 🖤

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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Your voice barely came out. It was more of a fragile whisper.

He was right there. Leaning against the doorframe, a dismayed half-smile on his lips and God knew how weak your knees already were to that view alone.

“Missed me?”

Also only God knew how much guilt you saw in Bill Denbrough’s ice-blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You muttered. He gnawed on his lower lip for a second.

“Came back for you.”

“Taking me so good, princess. So damn good…” his voice was hoarse under the sound of rain pouring against the metal of his car and under the way you rolled your hips against his.

Little, weak moans left your lips and that was all. You were unable to talk since he first guided himself into you in that backseat, stretching you out, filling you up just perfectly. His stubble scratched the sensitive skin of your neck while he kept his face nuzzled in there, grunting against you. You held tightly onto his arms while his hands grabbed your hips, teaching you how he liked it.

“You’re gonna cum, won’t you? I can feel you clenching all around me.” He pulled back to look at your fucked-out face, smirking and panting. He looked down right at where you’re joint to him, hand dropping, middle finger tracing slow circles over your clit and making you whine.

“Just like that. Cum for me, y/n...”

“Bill…”

“No, please. Give me the f-fucking benefit of the doubt, y/n.”

You felt the urge to smile at the transient appearance of his stutter at the same time you wanted to throw something in his face. He was clearly nervous, knocking on your door past midnight, out of nowhere, when you were already in your sweats and ready to head to bed.

“My parents-”

“I know they aren’t home.” He cut you off. Cornered you, avoiding any excuses you had.

You breathed out, a battle in your mind because you truly didn’t know what to do with him standing there. He had dark circles that didn’t match his eyes’ color very well, in your opinion. He looked tired, bummed maybe, but still handsome like hell. Just like he looked when you last saw him, but more fidgety now.

“Let me guess, do you want to explain yourself?”

“Of course-”

“Yeah, but you don’t owe me any explanations, Bill.” You were the one cutting words off now.

His only immediate response was to sigh. “Could you at least let me in?”

You did. Stepped back and let him inside, practically slamming the door right after. You didn’t intend on putting a show, but that came along with the slow-burning anger that built up inside you. You turned on your heels to face him and couldn’t tell who looked more defensive. You and your tightly crossed arms or Bill and his hands stuffed in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them, standing right there in your living room.

He didn’t say anything at first, maybe waiting for you to yell at him or something, but you didn’t. You couldn’t because it still hurt where he left you although you hated to admit it.

You were doing good until Bill came into your house smiling kindly at you, telling you about how little you were when he last saw you. How your father would carry you around on his shoulders by that time. He was supposed to stay for a month, something about going through a very troubled divorce. In the meantime, he’d meet you late at night in the kitchen when you woke up for late snacks, talk to you in a soft voice, pay attention to you whenever you were in the same room. Too much attention. To the point where his eyes discreetly leered at you so much you’d swear you could combust anytime.

He did that until you fell apart. You, who claimed to be a very steady, hard-to-get and hard-to-trust being. Bill Denbrough hunted you down, his best friend’s only daughter, in your own house until you broke. He feasted on you in the backseat of his car, in your own room, in the shower before your parents came back home…

And you let him because you couldn’t help your heart from racing since the first time you saw him. Couldn’t help smiling whenever he talked to you. Couldn’t help leering him just like he did to you. You fell for the man faster than it’d be decent to do.

“I didn’t do it. Didn’t accept asking for the divorce dismission.” Bill said, lowly.

It’d be an outright lie if you told your heart didn’t skip a beat to his words, the frown between your brows relaxing.

“Really?” He finally smiled at the subtle soft tone of your voice.

“Of course I didn’t.”

“Then why did you leave?” You were still sharp but it didn’t keep him from maintaining that gentle smile on.

“Because your dad told me so. Stan told me it’d be better if I tried to solve the problem face-to-face.”

You shook your head slowly, remembering how your core ached the day he told you about it. How his goddamn wife called and begged for him to give up on the divorce process that she had started in the first place. Your eyes had filled up just like they did again because you had fallen for a man that, legally, still belonged to another woman.

“So are you flying to meet her?” You sounded proudly tough, but your sight was a blurry mess and you couldn’t sniff the tears away without denouncing yourself.

“I have to, y/n.” Bill, on the other hand, sounded heartbroken but you couldn’t catch it under your own silly broken heart. You typed wrong words for an assignment you had to return in a couple days just so you could pretend you were barely paying attention to him. If you had at least turned to him, you’d be able to see the distress in his whole body language.

“Great. Those are good news, then.” You hit the space key too hard for someone who sounded so cool. “It was great to see you anyway, Mr. Denbrough.”

It was his warning shot. Bill gave up because he knew you were hiding your cards. He knew exactly what he had done to you but he chose to leave. He didn’t want to hurt you even more. He left silently and you crumbled down as soon as you heard the door softly being closed. You let yourself fall back on the chair, cried silently, shutting your laptop because you knew nothing would come out of your blank mind.

“I never intended on giving up the divorce, y/n,” Bill stepped towards you and for each inch he walked closer, you walked another one away from him.

“Then why didn’t you tell me that, you big asshole?”

“Because you didn’t let me!” He stressed his words, hands running nervously through the gray strands mixed in between his brown hair. “You couldn’t even look at me when I tried to talk to you, y/n! I understand I hurt you, but I didn’t want to, princess…”

How cliche it was that your escape route ended and your back hit the door behind you when he scooted dangerously closer, arms around you trapping you right there. “Please, believe me when I tell you I never wanted to leave like that. I tried, but you just didn’t let me put things in their place.”

You truly didn’t. You kept avoiding him, skipped meals so you didn’t have to face him until the next day, when he hopped in the first flight. That was two weeks before and now he was there, eyes so intensely on yours that made you want to look away, but you didn’t do that too. You kept your chin up, looking at Bill. Trying hard to not let yourself get carried by his lips that close.

“I was a brat, wasn’t I?” His hands cupped your face gently at your bitter words, thumbs softly running along your cheekbone.

“No...” He soothed you down. “Who could blame you?”

He was making you dizzy, enough so he could sneak under your skin again, press you against the door. He leaned in, but left for you the choice of going ahead or giving up. You closed the gap in between your lips without thinking twice. Your fingers grabbed his dark shirt tightly like you were afraid that he left you again.The scent of aftershave that was unmistakably ‘Bill’ hit you and he tasted like mint as ever, like those candies he always had whenever you found him writing somewhere in the apartment.

His hands left your face and grabbed your thighs fiercely, lifting you so you could wrap them around him while he carried you away from there, into the dark hallway.

“How I’ve missed you, babe...” Bill whispered, lips still pressed on yours, a blissful smile on. “Did you miss me?”

You nodded frenetically, kissing him again. He stepped into your room, kneeling onto your mattress before laying you down your back. You were sure that too much wetness was already pooled in your underwear when Bill towered over you, pulling his shirt off immediately.

His hands went for your waistline, assuring you he wasn’t messing around when he pulled down everything that covered your bottom half at once, harshly. His fingertips traced a line from your knees to your upper inner thigh, making you expose yourself to him. The way he smirked to the view still kneeled in between your legs like that made your cheeks heat up immediately.

Bill crawled on top of you and for every kiss he’d plant on your shivered skin, you’d let out a quiet whimper. He slid up your body slowly, lifting your shirt to find every part on your flesh he was aiming at. From your hip bones and stomach, all the way through the valley in between your breasts, gently licking your hardening nipples and delivering rough, hungry bites all along your collarbones as soon as he took the garment off you, softer ones up your neck to tease you until he finally reached your mouth. And when he did, he swallowed a weak moan that slipped out of you.

You loved everything about him. How ruling his weight felt on you, how he pinned your wrists to the mattress and still kissed you so softly. He was in between your legs, hips shoving against yours here and there making you feel how hard for you he already was under his pants, making you clench around nothing for him every time your needy heat brushed against the roughness of his jeans. The feeling made you buckle underneath him, greedy for more and he noticed. One of Bill’s hands alone was strong enough to keep yours pinned together above your head, the other dropping to push your hips down and still.

“What are you doing? Do you need me that bad?”

You purred to that husky tone of his, no needs to look at him to know how darkened in lust his eyes were. You also knew how helpless you looked by now, all putty under his will and touch like you were since he very first time.

“Please, Bill…”

Your pleads always made him act up. “One more time, princess. What do you want me to do to you?”

Bill knew what you wanted and how you were aching for him to touch you somehow, but he wouldn’t do it unless you begged.

“I want you to touch me,” you mewled. “Please.”

His hand went from your hips to where your thighs met, fingers slowly caressing your folds and earning himself a deep moan.

“Dripping,” he groaned, thumb circling around your clit before two fingers entered you carefully. You arched to his touch, feeling the known shockwaves hit you when he curled his fingers up, moving them at an agonizing lazy pace.

Bill watched every single reaction of yours closely, how your lips parted and your breath hitched. You were about to close your eyes in pleasure after he started drawing figure eights on your clit, but you remembered how many times he had demanded you to keep them open before. So you did. Kept your eyes on his while he increased his pace, feeling you clench more and more around his fingers. Bill got so carried away by your whimpers he let his cuffing hand loose, so you were free again to held onto his shoulders, digging your nails in his skin, while your body tensed more and more… Until he stopped.

You had no time to complain once soon enough he was laying n between your thighs, eagerly mouthing your inner thighs before feasting on your heat.

“Fuck-“ Was the last coherent word that left your lips.

His large hands held your thighs apart as your fingers messed his hair. It drove you insane how easily and fast he could have your legs trembling and body contorting in pleasure while he sucked your clit and tasted your slit on his skilled tongue. You were biting on your knuckles because you were used to keep things low, but Bill pulled your arm away, remembering you didn’t have anyone to be worried about that night. So you moaned for him, loud and obscene, feeling like you’d reach your peak anytime soon. And you did, pulling his hair lightly as he held you still so he could lick you senseless through your high.

As soon as your spams soothed down, you eyed him not even remembering at what point your eyes had sewed shut. He was there, kissing all over your wetness and grinning before he stood up from the bed.

“Where are you going?” You whined, propping yourself on your elbows. He chuckled at your pout, hands undoing his belt.

“Not going anywhere,” Bill said softly. “Just taking these off so I can bury myself inside you.”

You bit down your lip at his words as he unbuckled his pants and pushed everything he had on to the floor after kicking his shoes away. Then you were at a lost of words to the sight of him, and he took advantage of that. Pulled your legs near to the edge of the bed and your thighs up so they were apart and squeezed in between your chest and his as he laid fully on top of you again.

The passionate way of his kiss couldn’t have warned you to what was about to happen. Bill slid his tip down once, from your clit to your slit, and pushed in. He let you moan into his mouth as he filled you up slowly, inch by inch, letting you take your time to adjust to him like he always did. He was groaning very quietly, one hand steading himself over you as the other gripped one your thighs. You cursed under your breath at how he stretched you out, coming apart underneath him when he started to move his hips against yours.

It was heaven and hell put together. Heaven because every time he pulled out and pushed back in, you arched your back more and more, the knot in your lower stomach growing tighter with every thrust. Hell because the way Bill kept you in a tight mating press like that, grunting against your lips was completely unholy.

Didn’t take much until he placed his arms by your head and his paced sensual thrusts turned into rough pounding. Bill fucked you into the mattress while you couldn’t do anything but digging your nails all over his back, moaning in pleasure. The only word that fell from your lips was his name, moaned over and over as he kissed and marked your neck. Still so sensitive from your first orgasm, you easily drove into the second one, clenching so hard around him that had him cursing into the shell of your ear.

You were a complete mess, but he didn’t stop. Bill kept his pace through your climax and after that, kissing your temple while his fingers softly caressed your hair or ran down your sides and cupped your breast.

“You feel so fucking good around me,” he whispered, “you’re gonna make me cum this way, princess.”

His hand sneaked down in between his hard thrusts and when he touched your sore clit it was more than enough. Bill wanted you to give him one more, and you did. You came undone for him and a couple of thrusts later he followed you. He buried himself into you just like he told he’d do, both of you fucked-out in between exhausted whimpers, growls, and sweaty skins.

Both you and Bill remained still until your heavy breath calmed down enough, until he stopped spilling inside you. He kissed you lazily while that, on your lips, your cheeks and forehead, while you were still wrapped around him, arms and legs holding him close.

He didn’t ask if you were okay when your eyes met because he knew the answer through your tired out smile. And he smiled too, kissing you once more before pulling out. But instead of rolling over to lay next to you as he did, he got up and started to gather his clothes from the floor because your parents were at a dinner with some of Patty’s friends and he hadn’t forgotten that.

Still, you were too done to do anything other than lay there and watch him. How his hair was sex-messed and falling down to his eyes, chest still quickly wavering and, the best part, the reddish trails he had on his well-built back when he turned around to grab his belt. You smiled at those a bit devilish, but knowing you already had his marks on you as a payback. And probably you’d have a lot of trouble hiding them the next day.

You wanted to call his attention, ask what would happen from that moment on, but instead, you forced yourself to get up and walk all the way across the room so you could get new panties. As soon as you started moving, the familiar soreness washed over you. You felt Bill’s eyes following you all the time you strolled around naked, picking up your shirt from the floor. There wasn’t a thing you had or wanted to keep from him from now on, so the words slipped off your lips when you were in your way to the en suite bathroom.

“I fell for you,” you said, quietly, but loud enough to gain his immediate attention as he finished buckling his pants on again. “I fell in love with you and I know I shouldn’t, but I did.”

Bill’s lips parted like he was about so say something, but his brows furrowed and nothing came out so you left before it got too embarrassing. As you cleaned yourself up and got partially dressed again you were pretty aware of how much you had exposed now. A risky step because out of all the stuff Bill had told you, he never mentioned feelings even if sometimes he sneaked into your bedroom while you were studying so he could only steal a kiss, or got lost in his thoughts while looking at you when you had a late meal together at the dinner table, when your parents weren’t around.

You knew he once had a college girlfriend that turned into a wife and that when she begged for him to go back to her, he said no. Bill denied his lifelong ‘lover’ so he could come back to your door in the middle of the night. But still, you didn’t want to overthink it.

And didn’t have to.

Bill himself let everything as clear as water when you opened the bathroom door and he was there, enlacing your waist in his arms and kissing you breathless. You even stubbled back on your weak legs, but he held you tightly, smiling wide when you parted away.

“I did too, y/n.” He said it like he was explaining something too obvious and you were adorably silly to understand it. “I f-fell in love with you.”

It was the second time he stuttered that night and you were speechless, reactionless. You never fell in love before, just had had momentary, casual hookups through college years. You never heard someone tell you they fell in love with you either. So telling it for the first time and getting told the same right away was overwhelming. Surprisingly good.

Bill brushed a hair strand off your face, ready to lean in for another kiss but the sound of the door closing a a distance stopped him.

“Holy shit...” You hissed.

A meltdown was unavoidable and you could see it happening practically in slow motion in front of you. Both you and Bill reacted fast. You ran into the room and got your sweatpants on as fast as a lightning while Bill put his shoes on, but he couldn’t get to his shirt fast enough. And if he could, there was no way to hide what happened there when the sheets were that messed.

And that was the first thing that Stan Uris laid his eyes on when he reached his daughter’s bedroom.

“Y/n, I brought you some-”

There was a door but no time to close it and try to find a plan. Stan got cut off by his own astonishment. His eyes trailed quickly from the messed bed, to you standing by its side, and to Bill shirtless in the middle of the room.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Bill?!”

You never heard your dad shouting like he did and that warned Patty at the kitchen and soon enough she appeared at the door too, eyes scanning around just like Stan did. Putting the pieces together. What happened next was barely a blur and loud arguing in your head. Bill tried to calm Stan down, you tried to calm him down but nothing worked.

“What the fuck are you doing with my daughter, Bill?! Did you-”

“Stan, for God’s sake!”

Not even your mother could stop him. He was screaming*,you and Bill were screaming explanations over him and even Patty had to raise her voice. It was a whole pandemonium.

“What did he do to you, y/n?!”

“Nothing I didn’t let him do!”

“Can you cuh-calm the fuck down, Stan?!”

Stan didn’t punched Bill, not in front of you at least, because as soon as Bill was fully dressed again he was told to to ‘get the fuck outta there’. And he did. Bill took a quick glance at you from the door before disappearing through it and your heart sank under how worried he looked. Stan followed him and so did you tried to do.

“No! Stay here, y/n!” And your mother followed them too.

You could hear them shouting at each other wall the way through the apartment and the door slamming shut.

And then there was silence. A disturbing silence as your head stung and your stomach felt like it had been twisted.

You let yourself fall down onto the mattress, tears starting to fill your eyes. All the bliss you felt a minute ago gone, its place filled with what the hell you felt. Fear, anger and whatever came along.

“Y/n!”

You heard your mother slightly upset calling before she came through your door again. Patty never ever raised her voice at you, neither did Stan. Not like that. They had their ways to show you they were disappointed when you did something bad, but they were never so harsh.

Of course they find out about you and Bill in the worst way possible, before you had a chance to explain yourself and warm them up to it, so when you looked up at your mom, you expected her to yell at you too.

But it didn’t happen.

As soon as she put her eyes on your pitiful self, her shoulders dropped and she sighed.

“What happened here, y/n?”

You could barely keep looking at her, so you just shook your head.

“Exactly what you’re thinking that happened, mom.”

You kept your eyes on your bare feet all the time while she walked closer. The mattress wavered when she sat by your side and took a while before she talked again.

“What exactly happened between you and Bill?” Patty asked once more.

Of course that your hurt expression made her heart shrink. Patty didn’t look angry anymore, just… Confused. Not that disappointed. Your full eyes flooded as soon as you tried to talk, so you cried instead. You cried into your hands because you’ve messed up things, again. First you pushed Bill away and when he came back you couldn’t make him stay. Because you were sure it was an end line. Bill and you dad were friends since they were kids and you didn’t think Bill was up to break it. Stan clearly wouldn’t accept his daughter and childhood friend to end up together, either.

You cried while thinking about what was happening somewhere right now. Maybe Stan had punched Bill, yes, although it’d be extremely out of character for him. But there was a chance. One thing was for sure, he was demanding Bill to stay away from you.

“Dove…” Patty scooted closer. “If you don’t talk to me, I can’t understand what happened.”

You understood she was asking for the “how”, so breathed in a lot of air at once and when you finally spoke, it was barely a mumble.

“Me and Bill, we… We were together.” You confessed. “Some times…”

Patty nodded, taking in the information, trying to remain impassive.

“Since when?”

“Since he came here.”

You rubbed the tears away, tring to put yourself together but sure it wouldn’t happen. You were for sure all red swollen eyes and nose, while your mother looked at you seriously, but also tenderly.

“So, let me get this straight,” she started. “When Bill came to escape from Audra until ther divorce process was done, you slept with him? ‘Some times’?”

“Yes.”

“And you did it tonight, too?”

You chuckled, bitter as gall. “Yes…”

“So he didn’t give up on divorcing Audra?”

Her question made you frown. “No…”

Patty sighed in relief. “Well, then Bill is on his way to be a divorced and free man to date another woman. That maybe makes things less… Messy.”

You just looked at her in utter confusion and she cracked a half-smile.

“Listen,” she sat sideway to face you. “I can’t tell you this is an… Appropriate thing to do, you and Bill, for several reasons that I know you’re aware of and understand. But I also can tell you’re already an adult, even if your father doesn’t see it sometimes.”

You snorted quietly and saw her smile widen.

“We tried too hard, waited a lot for you to happen, y/n, you know that. You know how overprotective your dad can be sometimes because of that, and how you’ll always be a little girl to his eyes. To mine too, of course, but I can see the reality better than he can. I can see you grew up and that you’re now a woman.”

“A woman who apparently makes bad decisions...”

“No, a woman who makes HER decisions. Decisions are never bad. They’re good or ‘for learning purposes’ ones, but never bad.”

You shook your head, helpless.

“So are you telling me that having sex with my dad’s best friend was a ‘for learning purposes’ decision?”

“No,” she also shook her head. “Only you can tell that.”

Now the sting in your head had turned into a full headache.

“What I’m telling you, dove, is that you make your own decisions. Your dad can’t deal with it sometimes and that’s one of the reasons he’s probably arguing with Bill somewhere right now, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a full grown woman now.” Patty stood up.

“I can help you to soothe your dad, but nothing beyond that. You know everything has consequences, and you must be ready to deal with them. Bill is a good man, y/n, but he’s a decision.”

Yeah, Bill was a hell of decision. Your mother didn’t get into the matter of how inappropriate that actually was. She didn’t called you out for the twenty-year difference and all the obvious rest and you were utterly grateful for that. She went deeper than the moral aspects and later you knew that she was trying to prepare you for what was about to happen.

When Stan came back you could barely see him. Your father walked fast past your door, took a quick glance inside but that was all and you heard when he went to his bedroom with your mother. For the whole sleepless night you hoped she was tried to calm him down like she told you she would. The next morning you could tell it somehow worked.

Your father didn’t yell at you either, but he also didn’t look at you.

Stan didn’t look, nor talked nor interacted with you in any way for a whole week and that made you wonder if you’d prefer him to yell at you. He had never gave you the cold treatment before and you would never expect it to hurt like it did. He didn’t give you a single chance to talk and solve things and under his dead looks you couldn’t even try to do it yourself.

That almost made you physically sick. That and being apart from Bill. Your thoughts insisted in drifting towards him and you waited for him to call or text you, but nothing happened. You felt too pathetic both to try to talk to your dad and to try to talk to Bill again. You considered numerous possibilities for his vanishing, from your dad breaking bounds with him, to he being mad at you for ruining their friendship and choosing to step away himself. That only made you sank more into your disgrace.

You mother was of course stepping in eggshells in between you two, but it was clear that, past the shock, she had chose to stood for you in her own passive way. And you could tell it was hurting her to see you and your dad shattered apart like that. She tried to initiate small talks at the dinner table but nothing made you and Stan warm up again. He acted like you weren’t even there until a week later, when the doorbell rang.

You heard it lowly through your earphones in your room but the noise became louder and you pulled them off. Hearing Bill’s voice made you rush into the living room just to find him still by the door clearly defensive while your dad argued with him, and your mom tried to reason. Argued, pointed a finger and everything, but not shouting.

Bill’s eyes ran from Stan to you as soon as you reached the room, but he didn’t smile at all. Not under you dad’s hostility, whose eyes followed Bill’s to see you standing there, knees weak for a reason you couldn’t understand very well. Something between fear and awe.

“Y/n, go to your room.” Your dad demanded, strictly.

“No,” Patty, intervened surprisingly firmly. “She’s staying here. I called Bill and told him to come and you’re all gonna talk like mature people, Stanley!”

“I won’t-”

“You’re being unreasonable, Stanley Uris!” She cut him off for your and Bill’s astonishment. “You’re gonna hear them, both of them. Right now.”

Your father snorted in anger, starting to walk in circles like you knew he did when something pissed him off.

“Okay!” He taunted. “Then explain to me, Bill, why did you sleep with my daughter! Why, when I offered you a place to stay, you went for my daughter behind my back!”

“I already told you but you’re pretending not to listen or understand, Stan!” went Bill. “I fell for her Stan!”

“Bullshit!”

You already felt dizzy in the middle of such chaos, so dizzy you leaned against a wall and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I love him!”

You didn’t perceived you were the one shouting now until you did and the silence came in. You opened your eyes to see all the other on you. They fluctuated from your dad’s disbelief, to your mother’s tenderness, and to Bill’s infatuation. And you looked straight at him when while you built courage enough to say it again.

“I’m in love with Bill, dad. And I’m putting my foot down.” You turned for him. “I love him, and I staying with him.”

Stan’s frown relaxed and you couldn’t read it as a good or bad signal, but he didn’t yelled again, nor even when Bill spoke up.

“I love her too, Stan.” He reasoned. “I know I’m not what you thought for her, but I love y/n.”

Your mother glance on you tried to remain neutral, but you could see her proudness hidden there. Bill was your decision and she seemed proud you stood for it.

“And, if you let me and please let me, I’m staying with her.”

Your dad seemed to be about to pass out or something like that, but he didn’t. He breathed deeply, taking his glasses off so he could squeeze the bridge of nose and relieve some tension.

“I-” he looked from you to Bill. “What do you expect me to think about this whole fucked up situation, Bill?”

Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not asking for you give me p-pats on the back, Stan. I’m just asking you for a chance. I love your daughter, yes, and I promise you I’ll take care of her if you let me.”

“Mom’s parents didn’t like you, you told me once.” You said, standing straight again. “They didn’t accept you dating her for ages and I know you felt like… Like shit for that. Don’t you realize you’re acting exactly like them?”

Now you seemed to catch him off guard. His shoulders dropped when Patty agreed with a quiet hum.

“I’m not a child, dad. I can decide for my life alone if you let me. If you trust me enough to do that.”

You dad thought to himself for a while, remained silent and looking at you, but you didn’t dare to look away until he sighed.

“Yeah, fine.” He still sounded bitter, but a lot of weight seemed to be taken off your back instantly. “You can… Do whatever you both want with your lives, but please don’t ask me to act like I totally agree with it for now. And you,” he pointed at Bill. “Don’t you dare messing things up.”

“I won’t.” Bill said right away.

Your dad didn’t say any final words to you, but he looked at you at least before withdrawing himself to his room. You knew he wasn’t cool with everything at all, but it was progress. You wanted to think like that.

“I’m gonna.. Give you two some time.” Your mother said, before following him, and you couldn’t show her more gratitude through a smile than you did.

And then there was you and Bill, standing across from each other. He now seemed less stressed, but you noticed how the dark circles became darker.

“That-That was…”

“Don’t even try naming it.” You chuckled. “Seriously, did my mom call you?”

You approached each other and he had a smug smile on his lips that gave you those cheesy butterflies inside.

“Yes, she did. I always adored Patty.”

“Yeah, she’s the best.”

Bill leaned back so he could check the hallway before having his arms around you again. “So do you love me?”

You shoved his shoulder lightly and he laughed at your fluster while on your tiptoes, passing your arms around his neck.

“Shut up and don’t make me regret throwing a whole damn tantrum for you.”

“It’s okay, bratty. I love you too, y/n Uris.”

That made your heart skip a beat, for sure, but when Bill leaned in for a kiss you placed a finger between his lips and yours.

“No. You better don’t. Not here.”

He pulled back, nodding and mocking disappoint.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

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