#adult!stanley uris x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stanthemanstan · 4 years

Text

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?

58 notes · View notes

arctichotch · 3 years

Note

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

95 notes · View notes

sp00kyjellybeans · 3 years

Note

greetings <3! i noticed that you write for IT and i was wondering if you could right an adult!eddie x reader oneshot where reader is taller than him and when they all come together to the chinese place richie starts teasing him because of it?

hi hello sorry this is so late! I kept losing the progress I made on this and sort of lost motivation but now here it is! Also, I wrote this to be a fem!reader bc I know Richie would have a hay day with that, but if u wanted diff pronouns just lmk! Enjoy (sorry if its short)

Warnings: None

---

Eddie stood in front of the Chinese restaurant fiddling with his fingers. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. The fact that he was back in Derry at all was enough to throw him off.

“It’s okay,” You whispered in his ear. He instantly melted. He felt your lips placed on his and his worries washed away.

When you pulled away, he stared up at you adoringly. You were quite a bit taller than him. At first, he was terrified that would scare you away but you didn’t mind. In fact, smaller guys were your type.

The loudness of families and clinking of dishes brought Eddie back down to Earth. There had to be a reason why he was called back to Derry. He had no clue. He hated that.

As you informed the waitress of your husband’s allergies, Eddie stood in the doorway of the private room. All of his old friends sat around a round table laughing.

“Oh shit.”

Five heads turned towards Eddie, all the laughter ceased making his stomach drop. Luckily, you returned to his side interlocking your hand with his.

“Uh, Miss-” Richie raised his hand to grab your attention- “I believe this is your child? He wandered in here, looking uh... lost...”

Richie made no attempt to hold back his laughter. As did the rest of Eddie’s friends. An awkward smile spread across your cheeks as Eddie dragged you to an empty seat.

“No, no, I’m kidding,” Richie said and stuck his hand across the table. “Richie Tozier, the famous comedian.”

You happily introduced yourself to the rest of the group and you immediately felt welcomed. Eddie had great things to say about them when he spoke of his childhood in Derry. And although Eddie was annoyed to his fullest extent because of him, he never spoke badly of Richie.

He probably wanted to, though.

“So, tell me, Eds,” Richie stared at his friend. “How did you manage to go ahead and marry She-Ra.”

“Richie,” Eddie growled. “Stop.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “It’s okay, he’s funny and I don’t mind.”

“I just think it’s great. You finally put yourself out there,” Richie said casually. “Amazonian women are very hard to find!”

Everyone burst into laughter, except for Eddie. The jokes just kept coming. By the end of the night, you and Richie had grown rather close. Closer than Eddie anticipated but he was grateful that you guys were getting along. He feared you would despise his friends.

“I had a great time... Aside from that... freaky thing at the end,” You said. “And I’m sorry about Stanley.”

Eddie’s arms were wrapped around your waist in the parking lot. “Yeah, stuff like that tends to follow me around...” He murmured. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” You said before placing a kiss on his lips.

#it cast #it #stephen king's it #eddie kaspbrak x reader #it x reader #it cast x reader #eddie kaspbrak #adult eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #beverly marsh #pennywise #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanley uris #my writing

195 notes · View notes

overheardlosersclub · 4 years

Text

Do not tell me richie tozier did not make this tiktok

#losers club #overheard losers club #losers club quotes #stanley uris #bill denbrough #richie tozier #it 2017 #over heard losers club #richie trashmouth #shut up richie #richie and eddie #richie toizer imagine #richie x reader #adult richie #reddie group chat #reddie smut #reddie quotes #incorrect reddie #reddie

98 notes · View notes

anxiouslymalicious · 4 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 11

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series

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

A/N: Hiya there! It’s getting serious, we have reached the last hour of the movie! I am actually growing a little sad knowing that this long ass journey is going to end soon, but I also am kind of proud? Anyway, let’s enjoy this. My hometown is being put under lockdown, by the way, so I might feel quite bored quite often and throw out more content!

This part is about 3.2k words, just fyi. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, no, you’re staying out here.” Richie said as he noticed that his daughter was trying to follow the group. He was fumbling with something in his pockets, trying to find the car keys.

“What? No. There’s no way I’m letting you guys do this on your own.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms before her chest. Her cheeks grew warm with anger.

“There’s no way I’m letting you come with us.” Richie countered; stance equally determined.

“Richie…” Eddie started, only to be interrupted by Richie himself.

“No, don’t ‘Richie’ me. She’s not coming with us. Y/N is staying in the car where it’s safe.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be safer for her to come with us than to stay by herself in the car.” Eddie looked at Y/N, then over to the cars parked beside the street.

“I’ve told you before, it is not safe for us to split up. Y/N doesn’t even know how to drive in case she needs to get away, there is nothing for her to defend herself with once that fucking clown comes out. Staying in the car would literally be a death trap for her.” Eddie tried to argue with Richie who now looked twisted. The rest of the Losers looked on as they watched the heated discussion, not wanting to interfere. Each of them wanted the best and the best only for the littlest Loser, but what really was the best for her in that moment? Their minds travelled back to Stanley, how they saw him on the ground, his version of IT biting at his face, perhaps only mere moments from killing Stan. Did they really want that for Y/N? Did they want to risk that much? However, that first time, no one died. No matter how close. They got out of there once before, who said they couldn’t do that a second time?

“Eat a dick, Eddie.” Richie mumbled before averting his gaze to look at his daughter. The determination in her eyes was uncanny. Richie knew there was no stopping her.

“You won’t ever leave my side. You’ll stay with one of the Losers at all times. If I tell you to run and leave, you will. And don’t try to be a hero down there. And if you feel like anything’s too much for you, tell us and we’re gonna figure something out.”

Y/N nodded along to her father’s rules. She had to bite her lip to keep her tears at bay. Tears of uncertainty. No one knew what was truly ahead of them and there were no guessing games either. The Losers just hoped that at least one of them would see the daylight again.

Mike went back to the car to fetch the few flashlights he had thrown into the car before hurrying to catch up with Bill. He then proceeded to give them out to the Losers Plus One. One after another got their lights. Everyone except for Stanley. But in some way, Stan was still there. Maybe it was just a silly way of grief and remembering for Mike as he, with a heavy heart and deep sigh, gave the last flashlight to Y/N, but it seemed like the girl was Stan’s filler. Like there was a reason she managed to convince Richie to take her with him from LA back to Derry, into the mess they were met with.

Y/N shivered when she really stepped into the building. It was like every last drop of happiness had been washed away, like she had been drained of her emotions, drained of what made her human. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. IT could attack them at any given moment. IT could come for them whenever. IT could be right around the corner.

Out in Derry, Y/N had felt like she was running around with a target on her head. She was in a town she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everyone could have been Pennywise in disguise, as far as she knew. But now, they had entered IT’s home. The place IT knew better than anyone else. The place IT resided and killed children in. The odds of beating IT, whatever IT even was, were slim and Y/N had figured out just that. Basically, all of them were a delicious meal, presenting itself on a plate for IT.

Y/N followed the adult Losers she had grown to trust around the house, staying especially close to Richie. But she couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was keeping an extra close eye on her. Just in case.

Wood creaked below their feet, a low hum echoed through the room with the wind whistling through the cracks and broken windows. Suddenly, a new sound caught her attention. A sound that didn’t fit the picture. A sound that sounded so foreign, it was terrifying.

“What the fuck?” Y/N breathed out as she took a step back, never having seen anything like that before. But none of the Losers seemed to be weirded out by some black lava randomly seeping out of the wood, followed by a hissing sound of burning wood. Each one of the Losers seemed tense, but a strange sense of calmness accompanied their characters. Y/N felt lost. Because she felt distanced from the Losers. Not so much physically, but more mentally.

“Well, I love what he’s doing with the place.” Richie said as he watched the mass spread.

“Peep-peep, Richie.” Beverly said, voice unimpressed with the humour Richie still tried to bring up, despite the seriousness of the situation. Y/N felt a shiver running down her spine, shaking through her body, as she unconsciously tried to get closer to the Losers. Nothing she saw was right. It wasn’t natural, or so it seemed, and it made her head swim. She felt like she was thrown straight into a horror movie and was made to live there, fight her way through. It was terrifying as she didn’t know what would happen next, where she had to go, but the worst was the unknowingness of the moment, the uncertainty if any of them would ever see the sunlight again. If any of their lungs would ever be filled with the fresh, unused and clean air they were met with outside. If any of them would even be able to breathe still after this night or if they would all lose their lives.

“I’ve got to keep that one in mind. Maybe that’ll shut him up on the flight back home.” Y/N replied, hoping to ease some of her own tension the way her father always does. Successfully so, with the chuckle that escaped Ben’s lips, she did feel a little lighter on her feet. She felt some of the hopelessness melting away. She felt a little warmth in her chest.

Bill walked before the rest of the group. Slowly at first, but he seemed to be impatient, every step he took was quicker than the last. Y/N watched him go, not knowing if what he did was something conscious, something he himself wanted to do, if he knew where to go or if it was IT somehow forcing him. How, she didn’t know, but Y/N was sure IT had more tricks up his clown-costume sleeve than any of them would like to know.

Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Dust swirled in the air, straining Y/N’s airways. The air was thick with what Y/N felt might be the smell of decay, old blood, maybe even faeces. She had no idea what she had yet to encounter, but the smell that tested her gag reflexes already didn’t give her much hope of a fair game.

For a second, she let her mind wander. She wondered how many people had been taken by IT. How many children had been led to their death with promises meant to be broken and false hopes of things they would never receive? Y/N let her mind wander, far enough to not notice that they had split into two groups, one of them distancing themselves from the other quite rapidly.

Ben suddenly groaned. Throaty, filled with pain. Heads whipped around. Before Y/N was even able to comprehend what was happening, Bev had already called out to him, a worried yell of his name. Something about the way her voice carried itself made her sound like she was already expecting the worst. And she wasn’t wrong with that.

Y/N looked around, head frantically whipping from side to side, only being able to locate Bev, Ben and Mike. Yelling echoed through the abandoned house, she heard Bill yelling for them, she heard Eddie and her father. Fists banging against a door. And she saw Ben sinking to his knees. His hands pressed to his stomach, trying to find a source of pain. Y/N rushed towards Ben, holding onto his right arm alongside Beverly, who felt panic take over as she watched how Ben’s white shirt gained blood red stains.

Somewhere down the hall, Bill was yelling for Ben. Y/N heard their voices clear and loudly and she felt how her feelings were twisted. She felt the need to run to the other Losers, stick with her father and the person who might as well become her stepfather, but she didn’t want to let Ben down. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his suffering.

Mike joined the two women as Ben lowered himself to the ground, screams of agony leaving his lips, shaking the Losers to their core, breaking their hearts and making their stomachs churn. Ben pulled up his shirt, revealing streaks of blood, open wounds as something none of them could see dragged along his stomach, leaving deep cuts.

Bev yelled as Ben watched his stomach being torn apart with wild eyes, too many bad memories, too much fear bubbling up in him. He was reminded of the pure hatred, the insanity in Bowers’ eyes as he cut into Ben’s stomach that one fateful summer, the cuts that pained him so much physically, but even more mentally. The wound that would taunt him until he left the town and far beyond that. A scar that never really let him go.

Y/N cringed as she watched, before she jumped up, looking for the clown in a panicked daze. She didn’t notice how she was running around, looking for something that might give away his location. It happened naturally, her instincts took over. But if there was one thing Y/N knew about the clown by now, it was that it had a preference when it came to attacks. It would use their fears against them. Now she was left to figure out what could scare Ben.

She turned to look at Ben, the carvings on his stomach now read ‘HOME AT LA’, new lines appearing on Ben’s stomach with every second. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on the mirror. She saw their huddled up figures. In her state, she almost didn’t notice the white face added to the group.

“The mirror!” Y/N yelled out as she watched IT happily torture Ben, the words on his stomach being completed as IT was ready to move for the kill. The kill IT had been dreaming of, the thing IT had waited 27 years for. The first out of eight kills that would finally give it the satisfaction and peace IT had craved for years. Ever since those kids came across IT for the first time.

Neither Y/N nor Bev really thought as they acted. Both acted on instinct, taking the first hard object they could find and smashing it against the mirror. It shattered into what looked and felt like a million pieces as the girls tried to shield their faces from the sharp shards flying around the room, whipping around to look at Ben.

The pent up adrenaline left their bodies quickly, a heavy weight being lifted off their chests as they spotted Ben’s now free-of-cuts abdomen and neck. Y/N’s relief, however, was quick to dissipate though, as the screams of the three men that walked ahead reached her ears.

She ran faster than she thought her legs could carry her towards what her ears told her was the source of the screams until she was met with closed doors.

“Dad! DAD!” Y/N yelled as she hammered against the door with her fists. Tears blurred her vision, a sharp pain shooting from her balled fists through her whole arm as she tried to get into the room, trying to get to her father who was screaming for help.

“Richie!” Mike yelled, followed by Ben and Bev as the trio ran after the girl who now threw herself against the door in hopes of getting it to open up. The wood finally gave in. Eddie was standing in a corner. Shaking his head. Face contorted with fear. Bill was screaming. For a knife. Richie was begging for help. A knife. Where? She saw it. Glistening in the low light.

Suddenly, the spider-head trying to kill Richie stopped its movement. Bill looked up in shock. Y/N held the knife tightly in her hands, the blade pushed into the head. Her knuckles were white, fingers laced tightly around the blade like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

In a fit of rage, she pulled the knife out of the head only to ram it back in. Over and over and over again. Five, six, seven times. She wasn’t met with any resistance, nothing to stop her from letting out the anger and frustration and hatred she felt towards the thing that would forever have an impact on her life.

It wasn’t until Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back that she stopped. If it was up to Y/N, she would have continued to stab the thing until it wasn’t more than a pile of mush on the ground. Despite the nausea and the guilt that filled her, ate away at her. Despite the dirty feeling on her skin as she tried to end a life. Despite the burning in her brain and in her heart, both of them yelling at her to stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to do just that. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t rest. Not until revenge had been served. Not until justice found its way to make things right again. Even though she knew that things wouldn’t be right again. What she saw wasn’t something to forget. What they had said and done wasn’t something to shrug off.

“Y/N, it’s enough. Richie’s alright.” Ben whispered to the girl in his arms as he pulled her away and tried to push her head in his chest, hoping to shield her sight. From what exactly, Ben wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to have her see IT get away with what it had done. Maybe he wanted her to just focus on him to calm down. Or maybe he was scared that some of the anger she was able to let out would rebound onto Richie and Ben hoped to prevent that. All he knew was that it felt right to hug his Loser-niece tightly as the rest of the group tried to catch their breath.

“Is everybody okay?” Bev asked as she dropped to her knees beside Richie who was coughing and sputtering with Bill still leaning over him. She pulled off her jacket to wipe whatever the slime was that IT had left on Richie’s face away.

Bill was now the one to feel the rage. Storming towards Eddie, he only had one thing in his mind. Anger burned hot inside his mind and his chest as he pushed Eddie back to the wall.

“He could have f-f-f-fucking died, man. You k-know that, right?” Bill screeched at Eddie, voice coarse with disbelief. Eddie’s gaze travelled from Bill, Big Bill, who now seemed more intimidating than ever, over Richie who was being cared for by Bev, to Y/N, still in Ben’s arms, as he and Mike tried to provide comfort and maybe just the smallest sense of calmness. She was shaking, shivering, as she watched her father, seemingly zoned out with a few stray tears on her cheeks.

“Georgie’s dead. The k-kid’s dead. Stan-Stanley’s dead. Y-you want Richie too?” Bill couldn’t help himself as he screamed, the fear settling in him, he felt intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in. None of them wanted to be back there, none of them wanted to face IT again, but Bill was the one who had the hardest time. He was the cause of their misery. He was the cause of Georgie’s death. And Stan’s. And the kid’s. He couldn’t bear the guilt of another Loser, one of the people closest to him, to lose their life for his cause. And especially not the only Loser who had a child of their own to take care of.

As Bill kept screaming the words ‘You want Richie too?’, all Eddie could do was shake his head, eyes not meeting Bill’s as he whispered his reply. “I don’t. I don’t want Richie too. I don’t, I don’t.”

When Bill’s shouting ceased, the room filled with heavy breaths and quiet, the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking as Y/N crawled towards her father, embracing him tightly. Finally, Eddie managed to look at Bill, properly look at him.

“Please don’t be mad, Bill.” Eddie was close to begging as he felt hot tears fill his eyes to the brim, threatening to spill over at any given moment. “I was just scared.”

And at that moment, they all noticed. Eddie’s eyes were still the same. It was Eddie Spaghetti Bill was yelling at. Not Edward Kaspbrak, the successful Risk Analyser. It was Big Bill yelling, not Bill Denbrough, the bestselling author.

“That- that’s what he w-w-wants, right?” Bill asked, realisation dawning in him, the Losers and their Plus One. Y/N watched Eddie and Bill with cold eyes, a broken heart. She almost felt betrayed by Eddie. The man who had told her that he loved her father, had feelings for him in the least, who couldn’t step up and save him when no one else was available. She almost lost the only person who had stayed with her through everything, the man who felt like home. And she couldn’t forget. Hurt was deeply implanted in her chest and in her head as Richie held onto her for dear life.

“Don’t- don’t give it to him.” Bill finished, taking his hands off Eddie who now sobbed, almost not more than a quiet gasp, as he realised that his lack of actions could have led to the death of his love. And it pained him, even more, to know that it had taken him more than 27 years and he still didn’t have the balls to even think of Richie as more than a crush. Deep down, Eddie longed to be in Richie’s warm embrace, he cherished every joke Richie cracked, no matter how insulting, maybe even especially when insulting. Richie made his heart flutter, his palms sweaty. And even the thought of losing Richie to death scared Eddie so much that his body went frigid, ice cold. He froze. He was petrified. But he couldn’t tell. Not Richie, not Y/N. Not now. Not when they both looked at him, disbelief clear in their faces, eyes cold with hatred.

Only, they weren’t. But Eddie didn’t know.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!) @whereyoustand @bellero @shockwavee @daniellajocelyn @robindoesntloveme @halefirewarrior @ucy161 @captainshazamerica @catscrochet @gabiatthedisco @strangemaximoff @robynel @the-summer-of-39 @sammy-salamander @majorlyextra @im-justafangirl @bohemiancrue @weebishtae @nobody7102 @creativedogs @sirenjules @littlemaeve @precious-bands-love @darth-dorle @zigabrielle @ggclarissa @bat-shark-repellant @zoemassingale @avengerswon @artlovingbre @supernovavision @eggytozier @eeemmiillyyy @russian-romanova @isweareverythingsalright @supernatural3002 @intoomuchfandoms @detroitbecomevenom @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @keeley-virgo @deviantly-gayy @thedragonofgallifrey @sycard @sassy-specter @psychosupernatural @jerkyheree-michaelm3ll @chros-nomsworth @princesskhy @chocolatecakeandme @felicityofbakerstreet @transparentaliencookiehoagie @danas-wonderland @paige-howell-lester @1800kaspbrak @donteatmycookiesplease @im-justafangirl @finalfemm @tozierskaspb @afictionaladventure16 @morgan-macguire @niallisworld @sp00kymonthenthusiast @blancastans @delicately-important-trash @blue-paradise-girl @im-a-rocketman @emiliesnowflake @peachysinnermon @whatsupsherl0ck @wheezy-kasp-brak @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @ilovetaquitosmmmm @markiismoo @your-not-invisible-to-me @oisek-si @itsarandomsparkle @queen-fam @antivscogirl @fear-epidemic @burner-cell @cait-elizabeth @kind-sober-and-fully-dressed-99 @srtafarrell @opalof @x0softxgirl0x @cocastyle @themagicianssister @adritozier @the-almost-perfect-username @edwardspaghedwardtozier @attractiveugly @cait-scribbles @bethanyb1110 @the-almost-perfect-username @spacelesbianfanclub @alisoncdariel @pinklyrium @leetaemintrashnumber1 @tozierwheelerwolfhard @stress-and-obsess @httpstannie @purple-brainstorm @bitch-imma-head-out @sleepygal124 @mellorine-paprika @im-an-assho1e @vergassdottir @brooke1419 @shherlxck @lauren-novak @increasinglygeeky @babyyydalis @hotgod-amess @queen1054 @raintoray @frenchiefightingman @70sgubler @ccidk @baconstripstripper @thunderkick44 @spiralingtoinsanity @lcvsbts @nerds4life246

300 notes · View notes

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

148 notes · View notes

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.”

85 notes · View notes

sejanusbaby · 5 years

Text

Pressure — Stanley Uris

A/N: I find the lack of Andy Bean gifs disturbing. I found myself relating to this a lot, because I’m in my last year of high school and I am utterly terrified. Regardless, I loved this request idea, so here you go!

Anonymous asked: could you please write a oneshot where you're Stanley's daughter and you're about to go to college but you feel as if Stan is putting too much pressure on you so you break down. But then you guys make up and stuff? Thank you so much!

Warnings: Maybe light swearing, a very stressed reader and a very stressed Stanley.

Your bedroom was empty now, except for the bare mattress that lay on your bed frame and a few small items. Sat on the floor, you places the last few items into the small cardboard box, feeling some of the stress lift off of your shoulders.

“Y/N?” Your father, Stanley, interrupted your thoughts. He noticed you packing the last of your things and gave you a smile.

“What, Dad?” You asked him, watching him plop himself onto the floor in front of you. He had been hovering over you for so long for the last five months that it was driving you crazy.

“Oh, nothing. Just came to see the progress you made.” He said, plainly, his eyes moving around the room. Maybe he was in hopes that he would notice something off, something worth jumping onto you about. But he didn’t. You made sure of that.

“Yes, Dad. I’m a big kid. I know how to get my own shit together.” You said, snapping a bit, but laughing to disguise the attitude you had towards your dad. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, though.

The packing tape made a loud, harsh sound as you unrolled it, sealing up the last box you had. You felt like you were about ten seconds away from a mental break down. The thought of school, strangers, and your entire future. It was almost too much.

“Well, Ms. Big Kid. It took you two weeks to pack up the small amount of ‘your shit’ that you had left. I thought I’d have to do it myself.” He said, pulling himself up off of the ground, to a standing position.

“You know, funny that you mention it. You haven’t helped me with a damn thing leading up to me leaving. All you seem to care about is how fast I’m going to get out of here. You even made comments about my own intelligence last night! Calling me stupid, basically. When will I ever be good enough, Dad? Like you used to tell me I was!” You were yelling, hot tears rolling down your cheeks and neck.

And of course, your dad just stood there, shocked. You fell to your knees, burying your face into the palms of your hands, sobbing.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I just worry about you. I want your future to be better than what mine is.” He sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t even think about how you feel.” By the look on his face when you looked up at him, you could tell he was sorry. His face flushed and wet with some of his own tears, he gave you a weak smile.

You used your sleeve to wipe your nose, sniffling, and finally catching your breathe. “It’s my last night. I don’t want it to end this way.”

You dad smiled,“It’s okay. Let’s go do something, yeah? Let’s enjoy ourselves tonight.” You nodded in agreement.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

So, the rest of the night, you and your dad spent time laughing, crying, and having a good time together. As terrified as you were for the next day to come around, at least you had today.

#it chapter two #fluff #imagine #smut #pennywise #andy bean #andy bean x reader #angst #bob gray #headcanon #oneshot #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris #adult!#the losers club

170 notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

loving you

request: omg nsfw stan x reader where his wife (the reader) has been away on a business trip or something for her job (you can decide) and she comes home to stan and he’s all needy and clingy with her and just wants to make love to her bc he missed her ASKDKEXJ IM SOFT I-

A/N: Shdhfsbdfhdsb hello. We about to do this. I'm soft, too ahsbdfahshdshah. I sure hope it's good what I'll have written. I'm nervous about writing this. This is a first for me in some ways. I'm watching the Corpse Bride while I write. Fitting, I know. But it's one of my favourites and, since it's the 9th of halloween, what better cartoon to watch if I've already watched Coraline twice and the Nightmare Before Christmas? Three more horror cartoons to go! Happy reading!

This gon' be hot and steamy!

warnings: smut :)

IT masterlist

heaven masterlist

main masterlist

gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!

Stanley had missed her a lot. Y/N's work trip to Europe had dragged much too long for his liking. He was so ready to see her again and wrap her between the white bed sheets, along with his love and his lust and affection.

He had waited for her at the airport and greeted her with flowers, the romantic. She had nothing against it, in fact, Y/N loves cliché things such as flowers and chocolates in heart-shaped boxes and rose petals and candles… She embraced him tightly, and he spun her like a ballerina in his arms. Her face was covered with his tender, quick kisses and she had smiled, blushing as deep a red color as the roses he brought her.

Sitting in their car, Stanley was craving the feeling, the touch of her so bad, he'd gladly let her sit in his lap. But that would be against many rules of driving and steering the wheel. Screw rules, right? No, Y/N wouldn't have allowed it.

So Stan settled for his hand on her thigh for the car ride. She told him about her work trip to Europe, told him how romantic it'd be to go to Paris together, walk the streets of Venice, visit Vienna's opera house. Stanley listened and even put her words in the back of his mind as notes for later anniversary, Christmas and birthday gifts.

But Y/N noticed his hand was making bold moves on her thigh. His hold was different from his previous ones, firstly, much more grabbing. She could feel it in only the tip of his fingers, his intentions and thoughts. How the digits were pressing deeper in her skin than usual. He was never bold, he was always gentle and careful, and she loved that about Stanley. This feeling she got from his hand now was exciting her, though.

She glanced over at Stanley when his hand grasped closer to her crotch. She was only wearing a dress and his hand would soon discover her underwear. Due to comfort reasons, Y/N chose to wear her favorite pair on her return day. Soft pink, they were. Hugging her bum and hip area perfectly. That sight Stanley about to behold in a few minutes time.

Stanley left the car with Y/N's bags in his hold in a hurry. And when the door was open and the bags were on the floor, Stanley couldn't hold himself back any longer. Y/N didn't wish he would have for a second.

The couple reached their bedroom in time before all clothes were thrown off and skins marked completely, though the competition was intense. Just as their everlasting feelings for each other.

Y/N hadn't seen such an eager and lustful side of Stanley in their years of marriage. The wedding night was very similar, but not the same in excitement, she must admit. This is more than marital love, this feels more than that.

Stanley's fingers are digging small holes into the inner thighs of his wife and his lips are covering any inch of her they can get to. His pants are already gone, as well as his jacket, and Y/N's still in her dress. They're moving against each other, the movements synchronised by some inner rhythms only love can create. Y/N can already feel the length and width of how eager her husband is and she moans at just the thought of what's to happen.

She's about to have an introduction because Stanley finally reaches beyond the limits of her pink underwear. Y/N sighs, gladness spreading over her face and through the body, and her grasp tightens around Stanley's arms.

“You've… no idea how much I've missed you.” Stanley tells Y/N. His hands spread her legs wider, as well as her labia lips. Stanley's digits are soft against her skin, her very soft, velvety skin.

Y/N moans, loud and whining. Or is it…? Craving. Longing. Hunger, you might as well. Her head presses into the pillow. “Show me.” She pants to Stanley who keeps on his sweet torture on her clit as teasing and enjoyable for both as possible. “Show me now.”

“I wouldn't hold it in for the world, baby-love.” Stanley tells her in response. They both giggle, Stan realises he's made an accidental joke.

Y/N pushes Stanley off her gently, with her little hands, and sits up on her knees on the bed. Stanley's hands reach for her waist while she tries to get her dress off.

The man is in complete awe watching her. His eyes only see her and he thinks he'll see only her for the rest of his life. She's in front of him and shining like an angel. There might as well be a light blasting from behind her.

Her pink underwear is the only garment she wears. Stanley's eyes fall upon her breasts, her stomach, her neck, her arms, her legs… There's so much for him to see, too much almost. God, the things he would do to her now and the following hours and nights and days… He's got too many thoughts and options to choose from.

His wife senses his fastidious expression and grins. She knows all about what's going on his mind. Y/N slides closer to him and starts lifting his shirt off of him. Time seems to have stopped, they're in no rush. Stanley's feelings, of course, stay as intense and blood-rushing as they were the whole car ride, and all the time he waited for her at home.

Y/N puts her arms around Stanley's shoulders and tilts her head slightly. There's a soft smile itching he corners of her lips while she looks at Stanley. She's finally home, and she's so glad to be. Y/N runs her hand slowly through Stanley's curls and touches his scalp on the way. Stanley smiles. He's missed this small gesture from her, he realises.

“Mind if I show you how much I've missed you now?” Stanley questions and his hand takes Y/N's waist in almost a possessive manner. She chuckles and nods, agreeing. “You were asking for it.” He points out.

Y/N pokes his shoulder. “Shut up and make love to me, you fool.” She commands and lets go of him, dropping back down on their bed. She lays there for a second, waiting for Stanley to join her.

“I promise to.” He says, and it's all quick and hurried and lustful and everything both of them want from that second on. Quick and grabby hands, bedsheets ruffling, hair getting in the way, pairs of underwear thrown in the air. All hurried and fast, as if they were losing time. But they had all the time they could wish for, and Stanley was sure to use every second of it.

He smothers her with kisses from her lips down to her knees. Each one makes her shiver, her whimpers like music to the man's ears. His curls tickle her skin and his lips crush against her. Y/N can't wait anymore.

She takes a hold of Stanley's face and brings it back up to face hers, and she gives him a tight kiss. He can feel her impatience and knows it matches his. Stanley grins.

The second he's gone inside of her, they both feel like seven feet in the air. Stanley's head drops in the crook of her neck and he grunts, gripping the sheet under his hand. Y/N's eyes flutter shut. This is what she's been missing, what both of them have.

He's completely absorbed in everything she gives, her love, her body, her sounds, her juices and her lust. Stanley gives his love to her with every thrust of his hips and every kiss to her neck, gives his craving and tries his best to make up for the time lost.

Y/N's hands grip the back of his neck tighter and needier with each of his thrusts, and she tries to meet his hips with her own. They're not far from release, despite the desire to make this last longer.

No words need to be exchanged. Stanley knows Y/N's body as well as she knows his, he can feel that she's about to reach her peak. Stanley makes her look at him, tilting her face and she meets his eyes. Desperation, excitement, lust.

Cloudy eyes meet another pair of the same sort. Y/N nods at Stanley, encouraging him to quicken his pace and meet his release with her. She runs her hand through his hair again and pulls him down to her, their lips meeting in a kiss that make their heads spin.

Grunts and moans and whimpers, ones of success and reaching release, fill the room once the couple comes undone. Almost in sync—Stanley was only a second late.

He moved them both closer to the headboards, where the heavenly bed of pillows lay, and wrapped his arms around his wife. They had to catch their breaths. Y/N had never had love as intense as this made to her before. She found Stanley's hand with her own and interlocked their fingers.

Y/N looks at Stanley from below, her head resting on his bicep, and he smiles down at her. He presses a kiss to her forehead and Y/N giggles, pulling herself closer into her husband's embrace.

“Hope you've got more in ya'.” Stanley says to her and Y/N raises her head in question. Stanley winks.

“You mad man.” She tells him. Stanley laughs.

“A mad man in love.”

Permanent taglist: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @sunshine-stan-uris @radiantrichie

Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g @sadhwstudent @shawni-h @gothackedalready @seasidecrowbar @starred-river @raspberryacid @facelessbish @tozierskaspb @plum-duels @whereyoustand @amira3113

If you want to be added to any of these lists, let me know!

I haven't proofread, so this might be re-written someday.

A/N: the best thing is writing “nack” instead of “neck” multiple times in one request. ahsdbfhs. i love stanley. can i please have one.

#stan uris x reader #adult!stan uris imagine #adult!stanley uris imagine #adult!stan uris x imagine #adult!stanley uris x reader #adult!stanley uris request #stanley uris x reader #adult!stanley uris smut #adult!stan uris smut #adult!stan uris smut imagine #adult!stanley uris smut imagine #har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s writings #har-rison-s work #stanley uris imagine #stanley uris imagines

438 notes · View notes