↳ prompt requested by anon - “ you’re going to be a mother/father/aunt/uncle/etc. with stanley” this is shit but i hope you enjoy the fic love! <3
↳ content warnings - pregnancy, swearing
↳ 1.1k word count
@bucky-j-barnes @deadyfreddy @richietozierlvrr @sociallyakwardnerd @d22malfoys join my tag list
“oh my god you guys are so obsessed with us,” richie was clearly trying to hold back a smile as he opened the door, and y/n could practically feel as stanley’s eyes rolled beside her. “you guys were literally here last week.”
“nice to see you too, rich.” stanley scoffed, and playfully punched richie’s arm before the two men hugged. y/n could hear as stanley greeted eddie once he had stepped inside and she had her turn giving richie a hug, before the latter shut the door and followed them into the house, giving eddie a hug as she passed him.
y/n and stan didn’t see richie and eddie, and the other losers, as much as they liked. sure, they all attended the monthly losers club meeting and they all were in a group chat together (that took richie months to learn how to use), but it wasn’t the same as seeing them in person. they didn’t usually drop by on richie and eddie twice in two weeks, but they had something they wanted to share with the two in person. not over the phone.
y/n crouched down to greet the small tabby cat that came running towards her once she had walked in, and smiled as she gently scratched the back of his neck. “hey stan.” she smiled fondly.
richie had thought that it would be the funniest thing ever if he named his cat stanley when he adopted it two years ago, and everyone thought it was hilarious apart from stan, who claimed to hate the cat, though he was always caught letting the cat nudge his chin.
“don’t encourage it.” stan (the human) complained behind her, and y/n giggled as she looked up at her husband and took his hand when he offered it to her to help her up.
“don’t act like you don’t like stanley, stanley, he’s an official member of the losers.” richie snickered as he sat down on the sofa, and after he had patted his leg twice the cat jumped up on the couch beside him.
“keep being a dick and we won’t tell you why we’re here.” stanley huffed, and as y/n sat down in the armchair adjacent to the sofa, stan leaned beside it with his hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“y/n will tell me, i’m her favourite.” richie grinned, and y/n giggled as she shook her head.
“not this time, rich, sorry.” she smiled, and watched as he huffed before he tossed a cushion in her direction, that stan caught before it hit her.
“okay screw you, you’re not my favourite anymore. eddie is.”
eddie rolled his eyes as he sat down beside richie, and tucked himself against his side. “thanks, rich, i’ve only been married to you for four years.” he huffed, and scrunched his nose up slightly when richie ruffled his hair.
“anyways,” eddie huffed, shoving richie’s arm away. “what’s up, guys?”
y/n looked up at stanley and shared an excited smile with her husband. her hand found his and she gently laced their fingers together as stan cleared his throat, and stood up a little straighter.
“well, we have some news to share with you guys.” stan smiled nervously.
“dude, are you finally getting rid of those sweater vests? it’s been fucking years-“ richie started, though cut himself off with a huff when eddie jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
“no, richie,” y/n laughed, and sat up straighter in her seat when stanley had gently squeezed her hand in reassurance. “we just wanted to tell you guys that you’re both going to be an uncle.”
eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head as he sat up, and y/n had to hold back a laugh when she saw his hand frantically searching for richie’s. “what?”
“fuck you, you’re a liar.” richie’s eyes were also wide behind his glasses, and y/n laughed as she shook her head.
“we’re not lying, rich, i’m pregnant.”
richie was the first one out of his seat and y/n grinned as she stood to meet him for a hug. he mumbled a congratulations into her hair as he held her, and she laughed as he held her so tightly that he lifted her into the air. stanley was fretting “be careful be careful!” behind them, and she heard richie snicker as he put her down.
“hey, she’s my favourite again, i’m careful.” richie snickered as he moved to pull stanley into a hug, and y/n watched eddie as he rolled his eyes before he hugged her with his own congratulations.
richie couldn’t keep still when he finally stood next to eddie, and as he slung his arm over his husband's shoulders he kept bouncing on the balls of his feet. “hey, y/n, if you have twins can i have one?”
y/n shrugged as she leaned into stanley’s embrace, nodding. “yeah, sure.”
“wait-“ stan blinked, before he shook his head. “what? no. you can’t. nobody is having one of our babies, especially richie.”
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? i’d be a great dad.” richie huffed, and eddie snickered at his side.
“you forgot me last week. you literally drove home without me.” eddie shoved him.
“i was distracted.”
“we were on a date.” eddie deadpanned, and y/n bit her lip to hold off a laugh as richie rolled his eyes.
“whatever, eddie spaghetti, we can’t change the past,” richie sighed dramatically, before he looked at stanley again and scrunched his nose up. “wait, you guys had sex? you’re like fourteen what are you doing?”
“richie we’re in our thirties-“
“teens. you’re in your teens. ever heard of wrap it before you tap it?” richie rolled his eyes dramatically, and eddie huffed as he shoved his husband again.
“what richie means is we’re happy for you guys, really. he just can’t express a genuine emotion for more than two seconds without making a joke.” he scoffed.
“fuck you, yes i can,” richie huffed. “but yeah, i’m happy for you guys, really,” he smiled genuinely. “almost as happy as i was when eddie’s mom-“
eddie reached up to put his hand over his husband’s mouth as y/n laughed, and she leaned into her husband's embrace with a warm smile. she felt his hand gently at her waist as he leaned closer to her, and his breath tickled her neck as he whispered, “richie isn’t gonna babysit alone.”
Request: No here is the 7th day -yes 7th the person who got day 6 never responded to my message- of the 25 days of trickkombowerskru! which goes to @stanleyurususaliveandwell and they wanted hcs about the losers would be like (individually) dating a theater kid?
A/N: So uh this is faaaaar overdue and I am so so sorry thank you for being patient with me. Also the reader here is mostly gender neutral except for Richie where it'll be male
Ben being a former boyband fan can't really judge
Not that he would but it's kinda on the same level
And he does always take an interest in your own interests so sing away
He loves hearing you sing so much
It's one of his favorite things
He adores the way that you light up when talking about one of your favorite shows
And would definitely try his hardest to swipe tickets for the two of you for either a tour or even a revival if it's for a big occasion
Doesn't mind you putting on a one person show throughout the house
And would be so supportive if you wanted to take it to a path of a real career
Now Richie on the other hand...
He'll absolutely make jokes about his boyfriend being a theater nerd
He finds it hilarious
But still cute and how you geek out
He himself probably could've benefitted from doing theater with how over the top he is
And all the being said
He'll let you jam out in the car anytime you want
And put on one man shows around the house
Would totally help you get into things if you'd wanna do it as a career
Or will take play roles he gets more often then he did before
Just to see the way your face lights up watching him and his costars
She finds it absolutely adorable
Will learn songs you love and sing them with you in the car
Absolutely jumps at the chance to design for shows
Using you as her model when she can
Just seeing your face at the final product
It's so worth it
She finds it the cutest thing ever tbh
Is probably a bit of a theater kid himself
Not that he ever actually did shows
But he's listened to a cast album here or there
Could easily listen to you sing or watch you put on shows forever
Like his interest is the sweetest thing
Only you can get that man to take a break from his boring ass job
And in those breaks you usually make him dance around the house with you
He also probably knows a bit about theater
But more of the classics rather than the newer stuff
But he'll be down to listen to newer stuff with you
Watching you dance around and sing along always brings a smile to his face
And a glint in his eye
It's so cute the way he watches you
Looking just absolutely enthralled by your mini show
Mike doesn't know too much about theater
But he's more than willing to learn about it
Loves hearing you sing
You keep him entertained when the library is dead and you swing by
Will absolutely update you anytime they get in some new sheet music from a show
Absolutely loves your energy when you get down there all excited
Bill is also not to familiar with theater
But will totally listen to you talk about it for as long as you please
Will sometimes have you act out some parts of manuscripts before he sends them over yo the publisher
Thinks it's so breath taking to watch you preform
And on the chance you wanna do things professionally...
Well he's got you covered
This man will let you audition for a bigger role in one of his movie adaptations
Or if it's already casted he'll be sure to get you in that movie
summary | I request a Stanley uiris xreader where the reader has ezama and won't stop scratching and Stanley has top basically hold their hands. Basically a headcanonne angest with fuffl at the end
editor | @feliscatus-exe
>> linktree <<
You sighed and propped your chin on your knee, watching your friends splash around in the water. It was always so shockingly clear for the terrible track record Derry had. It gave it a sort of magical feeling. Like it was a slice of perfection hidden for you and your friends only. None of the horrors outside of these trees could reach you here.
The sun moved to a position that directed its rays right into your eyes, causing you to cover your eyes. The heat of the sun in addition to the water from the quarry was causing your eczema to flare up. You frowned and began to scratch the backs of your hands, which is where it affected you the most.
Your scratches were slow and small at first. Only every few minutes. But soon enough, your skin began to flake, crack, and redden with irritation. It came to a point where you couldn’t stop itching. You watched as past scabs began to rip off and bleed. It wasn’t a lot, just a couple of drops, but damn it hurt like hell.
You stopped scratching to search for your hand cream, praying you’d grabbed it before you left. You unzipped every pocket of your backpack, scouring every corner, even emptying it in its entirety, but to no avail. You left your damn hand cream at home.
“Everything alright? You’re digging through your bag like crazy.” Stanley asked as he took a seat next to you. You looked over your shoulder and sighed, beginning to shove everything back inside.
“Y-Yeah… I was just looking for something.” You replied as you pushed your backpack away. You sighed and propped your head on your knees, beginning to scratch your hands once again. You tried to keep it minimal, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“Oh (Y/n), are you alright? Your hands look pretty beat up.” Stan asked innocently. You frowned, immediately becoming self-conscious of your skin condition.
“Um yeah. I have eczema.” You replied, dropping your hands in your lap and averting eye contact. Even still, in such an embarrassing state you couldn’t help but scratch.
“It looks painful… Does this happen a lot?” He asked. You shrugged.
“Often enough, yeah.” You mumbled. You could feel his eyes on you as you continued scratching your skin. After a few seconds, he reached over and grabbed your hand, preventing you from scratching. Your cheeks turned red as his hand remained in yours.
“What are you doing?” You asked. He shifted and began to look through his bag.
“Grabbing something.” He replied.
“Yeah but your hand. You’re-”
“Found it!” He cut you off, handing you a travel-sized bottle of Jergen’s lotion. You were a bit surprised, and in your hesitation to respond he continued.
“My skin gets irritated so it’s unscented. Will it help?” He asked. Your heart began to jump in your chest. It was so simple but so sweet. You nodded happily, grabbing the lotion with your free hand.
“Yeah… Thanks, Stanley.” You replied and grabbed the bottle, but kept your hand interlocked with his. You were glad he didn’t mind.
Reconciliation (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier, Reddie)
I'm finally back! It's probably been a year since I posted Betrayal and shit has really hit the fan since then, but here I am a year later with part 2!
Here is a link to part 1
Aged up: 18/19
You tried to catch up with Stan as he power-walked out of the house. He stopped short when he realized his car wasn't there. "Stan" You catch his attention and he turns around. His chest rising and falling at a quick pace, "You heard everything in there?" Stan's voice was quiet, much quieter than just a minute ago. You nod and he sighs. "I'm sor-" You cut him off "Don't be" You take a step forward and bring your hand up to push some curls out of his face. He leans into your hand, not stopping himself for once. No yearning, no shouting in his head over his actions. Just the feel of your soft palm against his cheek. Stan takes a deep breath, feeling himself calm down in the wake of your touch. "Can we go somewhere?" Stan's voice barely above a whisper. "Of course."
Richie leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He brushed his hands through his hair 'God I fucked up' "Man you really fucked up." Richie looked up. "Thanks, Bill your a real help." Bill put his hands up in defense. "I gotta say I really didn't see that one coming," Eddie spoke up. Bill and Mike nodded in agreement. "I mean I knew *something* was going on but holy shit I didn't think they were in love with each other," Beverly added. "We know Stanley's in love with her but is she in love with Stan? I mean she was just in a serious relationship like a week ago" "Yeah I wonder what happened to that relationship?" Ben's eyes sharp at Eddie, voice stiff and slightly viscous, "Alright! Alright!! None of that!" Mike's authoritative voice made it known he was seriously done with all the fighting. "She loves him" The group turned their heads at Richie's small voice, Ha stared down at the floor and spoke softly. "She may not be in love with him right now, but I could see it. She's falling for Stan."
Eddie looked over at Richie. A mix of emotions reached throughout the boy. He hated seeing Richie like this, but he also hated that it was about you. Mostly he hated that it was about you. He couldn't control it, no matter how much he wished that he could. What is it exactly that Richie is so mad at? Is he upset that he potentially ruined his relationship with Stan? Is he upset that Stan is in love with (Y/N) or that Stan claimed he neither loved nor cared about (Y/N)? Is Richie still in love with (Y/N)? If so is he mad that (Y/N) could be in love with Stan or that she is moving on so quickly? Eddie couldn't help but feel like he was still second to you. It's not like Richie chose to tell you. He kept telling Eddie that he would for at least 2 weeks, but then she found out in her own way. Eddie feared that maybe he was never gonna tell you. Or now that you found out does Richie regret it? 'Alright, Alright Eddie calm the fuck down! Just go talk to Richie.' "Eds?" "Yeah Rich." "I'm gonna go." Richie's tone sounded soft, defeated. It broke Eddie's heart to see him like this. "Yeah sure I'll go grab my keys-" Richie cut him off politely. "I'm just gonna walk. I think I wanna be alone right now. I'll call you later." Richie placed a hand on the back of Eddie's head pulling him close and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "OK. Be safe please."
"Where are we going?" You ask Stan who is driving and keeping silent. "You'll see. Um, go into the glove compartment a find the clear tape." You scrunch your eyebrows together. "You been stashing things in my glove compartment, Uris?" You found a clear tape and put it into the radio. Temptation by New Order flooded in through the speakers. A smile grew on your face as you turned the volume nob up. Stan looked over at you for a second just to see your growing smile. "I made you a tape and left it in here for the next time you complain that there's nothing good on the radio." A fit of giggles came from your mouth. "Stanley Uris made me a fucking mix-tape." You continued to laugh. It brought a smile, growing wider by the second, to see you so happy and blissful listening to your favorite music, a song he loved as well.
And I've never seen anyone quite like you before. No, I've never met anyone quite like you before.
Richie's emotions were confusing him now more than ever. He loved (Y/N). He truly did, but he just wasn't in love with her. Guilt consumes him every night before sleep and every time he sees you. He never wanted to hurt you. But when it comes to Eddie he's impulsive even a little reckless. Richie knew that he fucked up massively. Not only with you but with Stan and he even feels so with Eddie. He felt that if he just would have been honest with you before jumping into things with Eds maybe Eddie wouldn't have lost his best friend. He still couldn't wrap his head around how much of an idiot and a dick he was about Stanley. What in the fucking hell would lead him to believe that Stanley Uris of all people would fuck around with someone's feelings like that? He had already caused (Y/N) enough pain maybe he was trying to be a hero or something. Do something right for once, but of course, it was just another gigantic fuck up! Executed wonderfully by your very own Richie Tozier. Richie had noticed that he walked straight to the quarry. He picked up a stone and skipped it across the water.
Stan pulled the car over along where the road stopped and the tree's started. "Come on." Stan walked over to your side of the car and opened the door for you and held out his hand. You took his hand and walked beside him into the woods. "You trying to get me to some secret secondary location?" "What, you don't recognize where we're going?" You looked around a bit and shook your head. "Well, then I guess it will be a surprise." "I guess this is the day I get murder in the woods. Goodbye world you were never all that good to me but at least my murder is hot as hell." You almost couldn't see Stan's blush from how much he was laughing. You're hands brush as you walked close together. Stan felt a little nervous to take it, it's not like he hasn't held your hand before but right now he feels it holds so much more. 'Good' he thought to himself. 'It does mean more. Let it mean more.' He took your hand in his and warmth spread throughout the both of you. Just the two of you holding hands walking through the trees with Stan pointing out some birds to you, felt so blissful. At this moment you realized you had never felt this way with Richie. The two of you had a lot in common and play off each other well jokes and conversation-wise. But maybe that wasn't all a relationship needed. You had felt that's why Richie and you were so perfect together. Maybe this was finally the start to forgiving Richie and regaining some normalcy, realizing that maybe we weren't perfect or meant to be after all. If this is how Richie felt with Eddie you felt that you could somewhat understand why he was so in a rush to have it. It was scary how new this thing with Stan was yet how important it felt to you. You would go to the ends of the earth to protect what you had with Stan, no one in the world made you feel as safe and comforted as Stanley Uris. What Richie did, going behind your back, was in no way how he should've handled the situation. You let him into some of the most vulnerable spaces in your mind and life, entrusting him with your heart and your deepest thoughts, that you were his only person. That wasn't something easy to forgive, not something to easily recover from, especially having that trust broken with someone else with who you were very close. You may be happy and blissful at this moment, but you definitely knew the consequences of Richie's actions would come back to rear its ugly head sooner or later. But you believed that understanding was one of the first steps toward forgiveness. The more you walked the louder the sound of running water became. Soon you could even see the running water. You realized Stan had brought you to the barrens.'But why the barrens?' you thought to yourself. You reached the edge of the water and looked over to Stan. "C'mon" he grabbed your hand and stepped out onto a rock in the water. You did your best to follow, it finally dawns on you that you were headed toward the clubhouse.
When you got to the small clearing Stan went ahead and lifted the hatch to the small underground area where the losers used to hang out. "I've only been here a couple of times." You said as you climbed down the ladder. "Yeah, I guess we started hanging out other places more." Stan walked over to the hammock getting in. He smiled and reached his arms out like a little kid asking for a hug. You raised an eyebrow at him. "I know. I always feel like I'm gonna fall out of this thing, but it's safe I promise." "Okay," You say drawing out the word in a skeptical tone. You yelped as it wobbled and Stan gripped his arms around your waist as the hammock swung a little. "See, safe." You let out an amused huff and relaxed into Stan. Your back was pressed against his chest, both of your heads finding slightly uncomfortable spots in the crooks of the other's neck. "I remember one of the first times Eddie ever brought you to hang around with us was down here." Stan played with your hands in your lap. "I remember looking over and seeing you smiling, talking to Beverly. It was really hot out, your cheeks were pink. Richie gave you his shower cap and you, him, and Bill talked about comic books." You closed your eyes just listening to Stan talk softly into your hair. "Beverly came over to me when she noticed. She was joking around told me to stop staring, that it was rude. I hadn't even noticed that I was staring. I got nervous cuz, -hoping you didn't notice. You were so beautiful I couldn't help but stare." You blushed and let out a chuckle, your stomach filling up with butterflies. "I don't expect you to say back any time soon, and I in no means want to rush you, but I-" Stan paused, thinking about the impact of his words. He started to think maybe he should give you a little time, but then you leaned your head up to look at him. And when he looked down into your eyes there was no way stopping the words from falling out of his mouth. "I love you." The look in Stan's eyes was intoxicating, you could have stared in his eyes for the rest of both your lives, but instead, you brought your hand up to his jaw and tilted your head bringing yours and Stan's lips together. Equally as intoxicating as the look in his eyes. The two of you felt as if you were floating on clouds. Like you two were the only two people in the world. You pulled away and smiled, Stan pressed his forehead against yours. "I know" You and Stan laughed.
"Ok Rich. You just need to apologize. I'm sure they'll forgive you. They're your friends, basically your family." Richie walked back into town talking to himself. "And you hurt them and accused them of shitty things and now all your friends will hate you forever cuz you were a total dick and even their grandchildren will hate the name, Richie Tozier." Richie stopped for a second and groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face under his glasses. He took a deep breath and continued walking.
Mike opened the door to Richie. "Hey man, come in." "Is Eds still here." "Yeah, he's in the living room. Rich," Mike put a hand on his shoulder. "He's worried about you. We all kinda are. There's been a lot going on with you four I just want to remind you that if you need someone to talk to we're all here for you buddy." "Thanks, man." Richie continues into the living room and sees Ben and Eddie talking. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing how much it hurt Eddie that Ben wouldn't talk to him. They hugged and Ben got up off the couch and saw Richie. "I'm really sorry Richie. It was really rude to treat you like that-" Richie cut him off. "It's ok man really, I get it. She's your friend, I was a dick." "Yeah but you and Eddie are my friends too." "Well then what do you say Haystack," Richie extended out a hand. "Back to buds." Ben agreed and shook Richie's hand. Richie took a seat next to Eddie on the couch. "Hey, I'm glad your back I wanted to-" Richie leaned in and kissed Eddie. "As much as I love you and your adorable rambling I wanted to apologize." Eddie was suddenly very nervous. He thought to himself 'Shit this is it. He still loves Kassidy.' "Sure, Sure yeah. Umm a-about what Rich?" Richie took Eddie's hands in his fiddling with them out of nerves. "About everything. About not telling Kassidy. About not even being decent enough to break it off first so neither of you would get hurt. All of this would have been so much easier and nobody would've had to lose any friends. I'm just so sorry Eddie, I love you and I never wanted to hurt you like that." Eddie was so relieved to hear those words come out of Richie's mouth. He put a hand up to Richie's cheek and leaned to kiss him. "I love you too Richie." Richie chuckled in relief "Thank fuck."
You and Stan walked back to the car hand in hand. "So what do you wanna do now? " You leaned your back up against the car door "Oh I don't know maybe some more of this." Stan leaned himself against the car by his forearm and with his other hand lifted your chin, leaning down connecting your lips. You hummed against his lips. "Well, I do love doing that." "Do you want to go back to your place-" Stan pressed a small kiss on your neck "Watch a movie." "Shit!" Stan's head shot up. "I left my house keys at Bens." "We can sneak through your bedroom window." You push yourself off of the car, past Stan, and walked to the other side pulling your door open. "I don't wanna go back there either but with any luck, Richie won't be there." Stan groaned and got into the car.
You wrapped your knuckles on the door and Mike opened it with a smile. "I just forgot my keys." Mike let you in past him to the table where the keys sat. You quickly walked over to the table and grabbed your keys. Turning around back towards the door you catch Richie staring from the couch next to Eddie. For once you didn't feel the wind knocked out of you. But you couldn't say that the feeling of wanting to punch him had dulled any. You carried on toward the door when Richie called out your name. You sighed and banged your head on Mike's front door and contemplated for a second whether or not you should pretend you didn't hear him and keep walking. Apparently, you had stayed there a bit too long. Richie tapped two fingers on your shoulder. "I was just wondering if you would let me talk at you for a second. You don't need to say anything, or react in any way really-" You turned around and put your hands on his shoulders. He froze silent as you drew a deep breath. "I forgive you." It wasn't easy to say, you weren't even sure it was true. A part of you wanted to keep him dangling in wonder and guilt but you knew that you would eventually fully forgive him and the more you saw him moping around the more you would most likely enjoy watching him suffer for what he did. But if he just thought that you had forgiven him then maybe he would go back to his old trashmouth self and you all could move on.
Richie was taken by surprise, to say the least. He felt relief for a fleeting moment until he remembers Stan. "He's out in the car" He heard him speak softly. She somehow always knew what was going on inside his head, that's what made him think that she was so great, that they would be so great together. Against your better judgment, you grimaced and said, "I can give you five minutes. But he has the car keys so I can't promise he won't dive off on you." Richie threw his arms around you and squeezed you, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" "Yeah, sure get off me" He smiled at you, "Sorry." As Richie walked out the door he turned back to you, "He wouldn't drive off without his best girl." Richie started making trumpets sound in the tune of 'A Long Long Time' by Kitty Kallen and closed the door. You rolled your eyes as you and Mike laughed
Richie fell silent as he walked up to your car with Stan in the front seat. He raised his hand and tapped on the window. Stan kept his stare forward and locked the car door. Richie sighed. "Stan please." Richie heard the click of the car doors unlock and walked around to the other side and got in. "I'm so sorry. I was being a complete shit of a person and totally overreacted. I do care about her, I do! That's why I got so angry and it totally fucked up my judgment." Stan wasn't saying anything and it started to make Richie even more nervous. "I was angry and confused and I honestly don't know where all of that came from. That's not what I think of you at all, you gotta know that, Stan. You're one of my best friends and the best dude I know and I'm so sorry I said all of those things. I know I really fucked up." The two of them sat and stared out the windshield, Richie's leg bounced up and down from nerves until Stanley broke the silence. "I'm sorry too. That I turned my back on you. I couldn't understand how you had the most perfect girl right in front of you and seeing you hurt her made me angry too. I mean we all saw you and Eddie happening eventually, but I didn't think you two would go and do that. I love her and I guess I let that get in the way of our friendship." "I mean dude I don't really think I could blame you. I've seen the way she looks at you. It can make someone do stupid and crazy things." "Well then I guess that explains why you are so stupid and crazy," Stan laughed, "Eddie looks at you like that 24\7." Richie turned away laughing and hoped it hid the bright red flush on his cheeks. "I can't believe she actually forgave me." "Yeah me neither, to be honest." Stanley dead-panned. "Buuut," Stan took a calming deep breath, "If she can forgive you, then I guess I should too."
Eddie walked up to (Y\N) hesitantly as she was laughing with Mike. Mike saw Eddie and took that as his cue to leave, or rather to eavesdrop from the kitchen with Beverly, Ben, and Bill.
"Thanks for uh.. for forgiving Richie, he's been a wreck," Eddie said. "N-not that I've been fine! I-I feel completely terrible for what I did. But I mean I-I-I'm not trying to make you feel bad for me or anything. O-or for Richie. I just mean that we're both really sorry. I'm so, so very sorry (Y/N)." Eddie stammered through quickly. Man, do your shoes look mighty interesting at that moment. 'You forgave Richie why is it so hard to forgive Eddie. Maybe because we only gave Richie a premature apology so we could all get back to normal? Should I have to do that with Eddie too? Fuck that neither of them deserves it!' You fought back and forth with yourself in your head before finally looking up at Eddie. You took a deep breath, "I know...I-" Eddie cut you off "You don't have to." "I feel like I should." "You already kinda forgave Richie I know that's a big thing so you can hate me for as long as you need I deserve it." You smiled at Eddie and walked out of the house. Richie saw you walking towards the car and stepped out leaving the door open for you. You got in and leaned over to Stanley cupping the side of his face to bring him closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Stan started the car as you buckled. You tucked your legs up onto the seat and curled up to get comfy. Stan rests his hand over on one of your legs as you closed your eye
Hello everyone! Sadly, today I am not posting because I have an exciting new thing I wrote. Instead, I have to shed light on something that has once again become an issue.
On Wattpad, the user going by Loni13344 has stolen multiple of my and other creators’ works without permission and hasn’t given credit. I notified the original authors I could find (currently I messaged 7) but there are most likely some I didn’t notify.
I tried to reach out kindly by sending a message asking for my work to be removed from their account. This includes:
Crush (Bill Denbrough) [originally posted June 30, 2020]
Bill Blurb: Guilt [originally posted August 6, 2020] (The user renamed this to guilty but it’s still the same writing)
Wingman (Bill Denbrough) [originally posted December 1, 2020]
Stanley Blurb: Spider [originally posted July 8, 2020]
Neibolt (Richie Tozier) [originally posted July 25, 2020]
You can also find the original post for these on MY Wattpad [xxx]
However, the user decided to apologize then mute me instead of removing my work. (Side note: I thought they blocked me at first but now I'm pretty sure they just muted me)
By muting me, this means I can no longer message them, comment on their book, or view their profile without being logged out.
I’m posting this in hopes that mine and so many other creators’ works can be given credit or taken down from this person’s account. I do not want to send hate so no matter how upsetting this is, be respectful, please.
(For example, one thing that you could do to help is comment on their chapter "hey this fic is actually made by [original author]!")
I also want to mention that on Tumblr, reposting and reblogging are two different things. Personally, I’m not comfortable with someone reposting my work even if credit is given. Reblogging, however, really helps me. It still shows me as the author and gets my work spread around.
If you find work that has been plagiarized, please tell the original author. Also, tell others that the work has been plagiarized and give credit to the original author. It is not okay to take something that someone put so much time into and slap your name on it. (To the person who notified me: THANK YOU! I will not name you because I didn’t ask if I could but seriously, thank you.)
UPDATE: The Bill denbrough imagines book has been taken down from their account. But their “it imagines without bill denbrough” book still remains up and contains two of my fics.
More screenshots under the cut:
These are screenshots of what is mine that has been reposted without my permission and with no credit. I also added screenshots of the specific books that my work (and so many other people’s works) is in.
request: Would you maybe be able to do a Richie x reader x Stan? Maybe something where Richie and reader are dating but Stan has a crush on reader? So Richie lets him watch??
contains: stan x reader x richie, threesome stuff, voyeurism i gueesss, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), does the layout look weirdd bc my tumblr mobile is acting up, alcohol mentions plceholder title, fingering, degradation, throat fucking, head pushing, hair pulling, there’s a scene in here that i forgot to write until 5 mins till posting vv unedited will edit at some point, if there’s more lmk!
words: 6k+ words!
"would you just shut up? i shouldn't have even mentioned it!"
stan stomps away angrily from richie but richie just runs up faster. he shouldn’t have mentioned it. he wouldn’t have if he knew richie would react like this. they were walking home when stan made the rookie mistake of asking richie to be mature about anything ever.
"i'm not gonna shut up, stan the man, this is the most interesting shit you've ever talked about," richie's cracking up and walking in front of stan so he has no choice but to look at him. he cocks his head to the side so his glasses go skew whiff, "so you wanna fuck my girlfriend?"
"i never fucking said that!"
he says it a little too loudly and a little too defensively. to richie, that just confirms his suspicion. he throws his head back and laughs, walking backwards up the path as stan strolls in front of him. richie got taller than him over the summer, stan even has to tilt his head up a little as richie begins walking up the incline in the path, "you said you 'liked' her," he shakes his finger in stan's face only for stan to push his hand away, "it was implied."
richie's reaction is beyond confusing. stan had said it plainly and simply because he felt bad that he had had a rush on you for ages now and he never told richie. richie had always been so protective of you, at the very least, stan expected richie to throw a tantrum and refuse to speak to him for a week. now, looking at richie grinning ear-to-fucking-ear, stan was sure he would've preferred that.
he bats richie's hand away for a second time as he goes in to tweak his nose, "just because i like her, doesn't mean i want to fuck her."
"maybe not," richie considers, before eyeing stan again, smirking, "but you definitely want to fuck her."
maybe, stan thinks, okay, maybe definitely. everything about you made him feel safe and a little turned on. he hated it.
stan curses and starts half-jogging to overtake him and this time, richie lets him.
he hears richie yell and knows he's probably cupping his hands around his mouth, "have fun jerking off to my girlfriend!"
richie always knew how to get on stan's nerves, for fun, out of boredom. he didn't bicker with him as much as he did with eddie, but when he did, he knew exactly what pissed stan off.
very much without thinking, stan whips around, "I will!"
stan assumed this was the part where richie would punch him.
he was wrong, of course, because as quickly as richie's smirk dropped, he barked out a laugh, "wait, actually?"
"fuck off, richie."
stan is sat next to richie on the drive home from a party.
as expected, it's hell.
you're sat in richie’s lap, practically straddling him, nope, now you're grinding on him, placing drunken, sloppy kisses on him while he grabs your ass.
you and richie are both shitfaced, stan knows this because there's no way you would be this...touchy if you were sober. richie, maybe.
stan's staring very hard out the window, listening to mike and bill bicker in the front seat, all of his detached tipsy thoughts suddenly overridden by the softest moan he's ever heard.
holy shit, do you sound like that all the time? no wonder richie's always so damn cocky, you sound like an angel.
stan sneaks a glance at you and regrets it immediately.
you're still straddling richie, your legs on either side of him, but he's grabbed your waist and pushed you against the back of the driver's seat so you're arched into him, one of his hands is lost up your shirt and the other is tucked up the fabric of your skirt, gripping your thigh while he trails hickies up your neck. fuck, stan would never get over how pretty you were.
your lips are red and swollen from kissing, your hair mussed and falling over your eyes a little from where richie's ran his hands through it. you're playing with a button on richie's stupid fucking hawaiian shirt. the sight of your skirt pushed back like that makes stan's mind reel a little. fuck, you must look like heaven when you’re just in that-
stan shuts down that thought fast.
he turns back to the window, blushing hard and well, hard.
well, he thinks, adjusting himself in his pants, i'm fucked.
"what do you think about stan?"
you look down at richie from between your thighs. he swears it's his favourite place in the world. "what?"
"i said," he presses a kiss to your clit, making you mewl with over-sensitivity, "what do you think about stan?"
richie's fucked you senseless twice that morning and he seemed intent on making you finish just one last time. he drags a finger through your slick folds, humming as he waits for your answer.
you try to fight the blush rising to your cheeks, "i..i don't know, richie," you gasp a little as he kitten licks over your slit, coaxing you on, "i- f-fuck -" dontsayit dontsayit, "-he's cute, isn't he?"
you feel richie smirk against your entrance and you know you've opened up the floodgates.
"so you like that?" richie murmurs, dipping his tongue gently into you, drawing out his abc's in slow strokes that leave your body shaking, "stan fucking you?" he somehow makes the question sound innocent, like he isn't knelt between your thighs like you're something to be worshipped. the teasing of it only makes you needier for him. underneath the smirking, there's a genuine curiosity.
you go red, face flushed as you tilt your head back adorably, "i-it's not like that, rich," words become difficult as he starts moving his tongue faster over you.
"it's okay, princess," he assures you, lapping slowly at your entrance, watching how your hips twitch upwards, begging, "i like the idea of it too."
your eyes widen then promptly fly shut as richie's mouth latches around your clit and starts sucking hard, "wh-what do you mean- fuck, just like that-"
you’re fisting the sheets between your fingers and lifting your hips closer to his mouth. he chuckles and pins them down, smirking at the little gasp that escapes you when he does, "i mean," he trails off, rubbing soothing circles into your hips with his thumb, "i see how you look at him."
wordlessly, richie flattens his tongue over your heat, still pinning you down as you buck up, his tongue circling your sensitive bud. you feel the tightening in your abdomen, moans of his name slipping out faster than before.
"i don’t-" your words taper off into a weak moan, your voice sounding wrecked and needy as he continues pressing wet kisses against your cunt, "-just like that rich," you praise, rolling your hips up from the mattress, your voice sounding strained with arousal. richie loves you praise, hearing how good he’s making you feel, "i don’t look at him different."
"yes you do. you don't look at the other guys like you're imagining their cock in your mouth, " he feels how you tense up underneath him, the subtle clench of your walls around his hand and he knows he's hit gold, "is that what you're doing when we're with him, princess? cute," he hums, the sound vibrating through you, making you moan, "aw, do you like that, doll? me and stan using you as our personal little fucktoy?" your eyes flutter shut, because yes, fuck, yes you would like that. richie can read you too well and grins, "of course you would, needy little slut," he's replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them up to meet that sweet spot, "letting stan fuck you right in front of me, you'd be so good for us, wouldn't you?" he's groaning fucking his fingers into you faster, feeling how you're clenching around him, "such a good girl, you'd be so good," he coos, filling you perfectly as he crooks his fingers up into you, "me and stan using you up like a dumb little slut, fuck, of course you like that, greedy little thing, one cock just isn't enough for you, is it?"
you're mindlessly bucking your hips up and needily babbling, "rich, rich, please, fuck, so, so fucking good, feels so good."
he thrusts his fingers up against that sweet spot, fucking into you faster, "cum for me like a good little slut, princess."
you're tugging on his hair and clenching your thighs around his head as you cum for the third time that morning, your chest heaving and breathing laboured.
as richie gets up from between your legs, swiping his thumb across his chin and licking it clean (you almost lose focus for a moment because, holy shit, that's a sight you'll never get bored of), he doesn't look angry or upset, he looked pensive, maybe a little turned on.
maybe he didn't know, you think hopefully, maybe he was just saying that.
he flops into bed beside you, immediately scooping you up in his arms with a content little hum and smile, and you decide, no, there's no way he knows that there's a little (a lot) of truth to what he was saying, he wouldn't spoon you if he knew-
"i meant it by the way," he says, as you tuck your head into his chest, "it's hot thinking about me and stan fucking you."
your eyes widen and you pull your head back from his chest to face him. he has that look in his eyes, the gentle quality that lets you know, no, this is not a comedy sketch bit. oh god, for once you wish it was.
"rich," you say gently, curling up closer besides him, "it's not like that."
it wasn't like that, its wasn't like you didn’t love richie anymore, fuck no, you loved him to pieces and always reminded him of it. it was just that you had developed a small, harmless, completely understandable crush on stan. well, maybe not a small crush. it was in the way he sounded so excited when he was talking about something he's passionate about or maybe the way you sometimes thought that his jaw looked like prime real estate for hickies or maybe-
"yeah?" you say, having gone a little red from thinking about kissing that wonderful curve of stan's jaw.
he kisses your forehead, "don't get lost in that pretty head, tell me what you want."
you're blushing even harder from his intent gaze on you, "it's nothing, really, it's just a fantasy-"
"-a fantasy about a threesome?"
"sh-shut up," you mumble, hiding your face in your hands, he laughs, pulling your hands away from your face and kissing your knuckles while you burn up in embarrassment, "i guess," you turn to him, trying to gauge his expression. he's not mad or upset, he's kissing your knuckles and looking at you intently.
"what about him do you like?" there's a genuine curiosity in his voice that you let yourself relax into, body going lax.
"i don’t know, his hands are nice, his jaw, his eyes, oh, that little mole on his cheek," you shrug offhandedly, "he's sweet too, to me, at least, not when when you're being a dick."
he chuckles, lacing your fingers with his, "i'm never a dick, stan's just a baby," he brushes out your sex hair with one hand, the gentleness of the gesture making you smile. he loved the openness in your face after sex, all calm and relaxed, "and i made that."
"that mole on his cheek," he points on his own cheek where it is on stan's, just below the slope of his collarbone, grinning "stabbed him with a lead pencil in middle school."
"richie!" you gasp, "really?" he nods, smiling, and you clasp your hands over your mouth, giggling, "poor stan," you say, giggling into his chest, reminding yourself to tease stan about that later. once you've managed to stop laughing, you look up, cautiously studying his face, rubbing his cheek, "you okay?"
he hums, pushing up against your touch and you melt, "yeah, just thinking," thinking about how fucking hot it would be.
you cuddle him closer, "i love you you know that, right? just because i find it hot doesn’t mean i love you any less."
he grins, dropping his head down to kiss you quickly, reassuringly, "yes, i know you still can't get enough of me."
you swat his chest, "yes, idiot, i cant get enough of you."
he hums contentedly, pulling you into his arms, thinking about you saying that you couldn't get enough of him - that you loved him - made him feel proud, honoured and a little horny.
it's he next day and it's all richie can think about.
thinking about bending you over while you suck stan's cock, pulling on your hair so you have to face him, letting him see how pretty you look getting fucked. thinking about showing you off, how well you took him, how cute your moans sound when he hits that sweet spot-
"-richie, you passed the turning."
richie perks up, "ah shit, sorry stanley."
stan's sat in the passenger's seat, very clearly looking very cautious of richie and whatever mind game he's playing with him by not freaking out about stan having a hugely obvious crush on richie's girlfriend.
richie parks bill's car outside of school, you had gotten a detention after school for dress code and bill made stan go with richie 's-so he doesn't c-crash my car or something.'
richie sits back in the front seat and stan can practically hear him thinking.
just don't talk, richie, it's not that hard, just don't, don't even mention it-
"-so do you still want to fuck my girlfriend?"
"fucking hell, stop saying it," stan snaps, turning to richie who looks ridiculously pleased with himself and stan’s reaction, "doesn't it bother you?"
stan's tone screams it should, it really should. richie shrugs and stan swears he's going to murder him, "maybe at first.." richie grins, "..but i know something you don’t know."
richie could get possessive. he got jealous when guys hit on you at parties because he couldn't make it any clearer you two are dating without literally fucking you in public. he left hickies and lovebites and bruises anywhere he could. everything about it couldn’t be clearer that you were his and he was yours. he wasn't sure why he felt differently about stan. maybe it was because he trusted him, that this wasn’t a random guy, it was one of his best friends, maybe because he's remembering seeing stan come back from birdwatching dates with you with the biggest smile on his face, maybe because the idea was hot as shit to think about.
stan rolls his eyes, ignoring richie and his sing song tone that drives-him-up-the-wall insane, "what, richie? what could you have found out that makes you this un-fucking-bearable?"
the grin spread across richie's face makes stan wonder if he wants to know the answer.
he makes a loose gesture with his hand, making a non-committal noise, "nothing really, stan.." he perks up, seeing you walking across the parking lot, you're tugging down the hem of a dress that stan and richie see no problem with, nope, not at all, "just that she'd love a threesome."
"she'd love what-?"
stan's words are cut off by you opening the car door, sitting in the backseat, "hi baby," you say leaning over to cup richie's face, kissing him and smiling like you're fucking glowing. you see stan and he catches something he never noticed before, the way your shoulders tense minutely, how there's a soft stain of pink blooming over your cheeks before you ruffle his hair. he only let you do that and you did it as much as you could. "hey stannie, sorry if richie and i were.. a little much the other night."
you have too much power over him, stan decides, just like that, his mind is on your heat-flushed lips and your gasping, breathless little moans as you sat in richie’s lap in the backseat last night.
"n-no, it was fine,” stan stutters and richie snickers in the front seat and you raise an eyebrow, settling into the backseat, rolling your eyes and smiling, "stop bullying stan, richie, we put the poor boy through enough."
richie can read you too well, for someone so loud, he's observant. he notices how in the rear view mirror, you're hiding your flushed face behind your hair and how you're playing with your hands in your lap, he knows you're clenching your thighs together and he knows you're a little turned on, thinking about how richie knew what was going on in your head when you were with stan. how richie's probably thinking about what you told him too.
you start chatting to stan, trying to distract yourself by any means, even if it was through your blushing and glances at him. stan's replying fine, red in the face and avoiding eye contact with you, but it could be worse. he looks over to richie who's smirking while he drives, all too aware of how stan's heart feels like it might explode or how now he's imagining your parted mouth on him, kissing him, trailing down, breathless moans of his name on your lips. holy fuck-
richie pulls up outside of bill's house, inside, the losers started watching the movie and bill's taking the keys from richie, "caused any h-highway accidents, trashmouth?"
richie rolls his eyes as though he hasn’t ran a stop sign, noticed and said “oops, sorry ‘bout that, babe.” he has his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his lap at your usual spot on bill's couch. richie snipes back some reply that neither you or stan can hear over your racing heart. richie takes one look between you playing with the hem of your dress and stan tugging on his collar and chuckles into your shoulder.
his voice is low in your ear so only you can hear him, "what are you thinking about, princess?"
he's pressing soft kisses down the nape of your neck, feeling your breath hitch in your throat, "you know what, rich."
he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, smirking and humming, "good girl."
you've barely seen stan since your car ride together. at school, he dodges you, hauling his bag over his shoulder and going in the opposite direction. when you come down to the clubhouse, he's getting up from his seat, pulling the shower cap off his head, which was a shame because he looked adorable in it, moving up the ladder rungs faster than you come down, patting your shoulder on the way out, face flushed and eyes focused elsewhere.
you thought it was weird. you and stan were always close, it wasn't like him to avoid you, sometimes he just called you because he liked hearing your voice, it calmed him down, you calmed him down. he didn’t call you to meet up on saturday morning, early early morning, to sit on your roof with a thermos of coffee that you’d share with him, passing it back and forth between the two of you, his bird book open on his lap. he missed you so much but he couldn’t look at you without thinking about you like that.
he glances at you from across the party, sat on bill’s couch, richie's arm over your shoulder and you're tucked under his arm and he knows it'll be better to just keep a distance. you’re smiling softly into richie’s shoulder, liking the feeling of his arm on you, of his cologne and smoke clinging to his clothes. you kiss his shoulder, mumbling “i love you, babe.”
he chuckles quietly, pulling you closer to him by the crook of his arm wrapped around you and kissing your forehead, “have you even had anything to drink yet?”
“nope,” you say truthfully, studying the light smile on his face, the sweet expression makes you want to drag him into the nearest bedroom and have him fuck you against the wall. you cup his face with one hand, kissing him, “i just love you.”
“i love you too, loser,” he says, making you giggle and elbow him under his ribs. you’re grinning and muttering something under your breath when you catch stan in the crowd. his eyes meet yours and you lift your hand to wave him over. he sees you, eyes seeming to widen and immediately turns on his heel.
you roll your eyes. you miss him, you miss laying your head in his lap and bickering with him, while he snipped that you were even more annoying than richie, before turning away, smiling, “his trashmouth is rubbing off on you yn, i swear-”. you stand up, ruffling richie’s hair as he looks up from his conversation with bill that mostly consists of bill’s drunken rambling and richie nodding sagely. “i’ll be back in a second, okay babe?”
you're pushing your way through the crowd, eyes scanning over for him. you could find stan in a crowd easily, you had developed a sixth sense for finding him at this point, he had a habit of wandering off when he was too tipsy and it had come in rather useful when you would find him laying in the park, facing up towards the sky, “what’re you looking at, stannie?” “stars, moon,” he tilted his head towards you, his hand tucked behind his head, his gaze burning through you and making you feel a little weak at the knees, “you.” you always ended up finding him some way or another, it was just a lot harder when he was avoiding you like hell.
you see the top of his head through the crowd as he heads down the hallway,
you dart between the crowd, catching his wrist. he turns around, trying to keep his breathing steady. “hey yn,” he says evenly, pocketing his hands so you have to let go of his wrist. well that fucking hurt, why is he blushing-? “what’s wrong?”
you raise an eyebrow, what’s wrong? “i haven’t talked to you in ages-”
“-it hasn’t been that long-”
“-that’s such bullshit, stan,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, stan recognises the gesture and you hate that he can read you that well, “you cancelled our plans this weekend, the other day at the quarry, you showed up, saw me, hopped on your bike and left and you-” you pause, biting on your tongue, “-you never hug me anymore.”
stan swears he feels his heart break. you’re holding yourself tighter and scoffing slightly. you’re deflecting. “nevermind, this is stupid-” your sentence gets cut off by stan knocking the air out of you, pulling you so quickly to him, burying his head in your shoulder as you let out a soft exhale, “fuck, stan, you're going to crack my rib one day,” stan hugged hard. you groan but you're letting your arms drop to your sides before pulling stan closer to you by his broad shoulders.
stan hums into you, inhaling the smell of your perfume, “don’t care, i missed you too.”
you shove his head but he doesn’t budge, you’re quite thankful for it, “i never said i missed you.”
he chuckles, it was implied, “and here we almost had a decent moment.”
you giggle softly and the sound makes him realise how badly he really did miss you, your laugh, your smile, the brush of your hair against his cheek as he hugs you you hold him close to you, smiling softly at the feeling of his hands at your waist, “why were you even avoiding me if you missed me so much, loser?”
stan pauses, thinking quietly before a voice interrupts his thoughts.
“is stan done ignoring you yet or-?”
you and stan lift your heads up to see richie at the end of the hallway. you laugh, realising how ridiculous you two must look. stan’s hands stay on your waist without either of you realising, it feels natural, normal.
richie drops a kiss down to your cheek before looking back up at stan, tilting his head again infuriatingly, “so are you going to tell her what you were so uptight about or should i?”
stan shoots richie a look that says shut up and richie chuckles. you know richie too well and you know stan too well. some sort of understanding passes through you, something unspoken and intangible.
you turn to richie, eyes fixed on the grin on his face, “you fucking didn’t.”
richie answers you by kissing your lips sweetly, smiling, “don’t be mad,” you look up at stan with widened eyes, face flushed and mouth parted. stan’s heart skips a beat in his chest. what the fuck, richie, what the fuck-
richie murmurs low into your ear, “you can kiss him, y’know,” stan catches richie’s words, he also catches the way you blush harder from them, the way you shift forward, the way richie looks at stan, “i mean if he wants you to.”
yes, i fucking want her to, dipshit, but that doesn’t mean-
“can i?” you mutter, voice strained and hands at his sides, you look up at stan with wide eyes, “kiss you, that is. can i kiss you?”
stan sounds breathless. you did that. you made him blush hard and talk like all the air in the world had left him.
“yes,” he breathes, “yes, fuck please.”
you reach up, hand looping around his neck to pull him closer to you, the little space between you feeling vast and huge, like there were sparks burning between you. the sparks seem to explode when you press your lips to his.
stan’s lips are soft. he’s soft an warm, lips slotting perfectly against yours, the warmth building in your stomach feeling too much and not enough, it’s not enough when you pull back and tug his bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting a whimper. stan whimpers against your mouth. holy shit. it’s not enough when you grab richie’s collar and smash his lips against yours, kissing him hard. it’s not nearly enough when all three of you are stumbling into the nearest bedroom, a tangle of limbs and kisses and hands that are trailing over your body in touches. none of it is enough until richie’s pulling you into his lap and kissing your neck while stan kisses your face, the urgent, ardent way they’re holding you making you flushed and needier.
richie’s hand moves up your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles against the skin, you feel his breath brush up against your neck as stan trails soft kisses across your face. richie’s hand moves higher, cupping close to your clothed heat.
“you're already soaked, aren't you, princess?" you nod wantonly as richie's spreading your legs, rubbing your clothed clit over the fabric of your panties, your skirt hitched up around your waist. stan sees the lace underneath and swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing and jaw clenching, making richie laugh, “such a pretty girl, isn’t she?”
stan groans as richie rubs over the little lacy thing you're wearing, a heady noise from the centre of his chest that just makes you wetter. richie's hand runs up your thigh, gripping it slightly so his thumb is so, so close to where you need him. he loves how desperate you look, the buck of your hips, the little whimpers escaping your mouth as you whine for him to hurry up. "is she always this needy?" he breathes as richie smirks, pushing your panties aside, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, seeing how wet you are, stan makes that noise again, and richie laughs lightly into your hair, "she's such a slut, isn't she?"
richie's hand moves so his thumb is rubbing against your clit, the sensation of him against you making you tilt your head back into richie's chest, "st-stan.." you whimper, looking at him with doe eyes and richie watches stan's eyes widen, pupils blown out and mouth parted slightly from hearing you moan his name, your voice wrecked and ruined in the best way possible.
"you can touch her, y'know," he mutters, kissing the top of your head as he continues drawing rough circles into your clit, he feels how your hips twitch and how you grind into his touch. he chuckles lightly, "aw, she likes that,” you're moaning at richie’s touch on you, loving how vulnerable you are in this position, legs spread open while richie rubbed over your underwear, "fuck, she's so wet already."
stan places his hand on your chin, the other on your thigh as he tips your head back down to face him, "eyes on me, okay, babylove? i want to see all of you," your breath hitches and you nod and richie rubs your clit faster, earning another moan from you, "that's a good girl."
richie's hand is between your legs, running up your slit, teasing your entrance with his finger, loving your little moans as he pushes in one digit, curling it up against the tight press of your walls, "f-fuck- richie-" you whimper. stan's mouth is on the crook of your neck, sucking lightly, mapping a path across the slope of your jaw, loving how your noises sound so soft like this. richie's thumb draws circles into your sensitive bud and he thrusts another finger into you. he's curling them up against that spot that has you falling apart so easily. richie once bragged that he might as well take an AP class in making you moan. when he said that, stan rolled his eyes, then adjusted himself in his pants at the thought of that. now, as you're curling your hands into stan's shirt, fisting the fabric, mouth parted in a moan that had both stan and richie uncomfortably hard, he had never been happier to admit he was wrong.
you whimper slightly, shifting in richie's arms to reach over to stan, palming his bulge in your hand, a groan escaping him before he can stop it. he runs his hand over your side where your shirt's hiked up and you arch from the feeling of his hand ghosting over you. the feeling of your hand on him, running over his shaft, has him gripping your waist, hand moving up further, “can i play with your tits, babydoll?”
the desperate way you’re nodding, the way you mindlessly babble, “yesyes, stan, please,” makes richie’s hand speed up, drawing out those little moans again, “f-fuck, stan, stan please.”
stan's sat between your legs and richie's quickening the pace on your clit, your moans getting louder as he tries to memorise the sight of you moaning like this, legs spread, lacy panties pushed aside with richie's fingers thrusting into you. he slides his hand up your chest, groaning softly as he cups your tit, squeezing lightly. he’s pushing your shirt up, breath stuttering at the sight of his hands on you, his hand palming you as you whimper and moan, he drops his head down to kiss you again. he can’t help it really, “so fucking pretty, babydoll.”
your hips grind down at the praise, driving his fingers deeper, hitting up against your g-spot, the feeling of him fucking you faster coupled with the harsh circles on your clit and stan’s hand on your tits, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, has your back arching off the bed, pushing against his and richie's touch. your moans. they're slutty and gasping as you get closer and stan has no idea how richie's stops himself from jumping your bones every time he sees you if you sound this good-
"-g- oh god, fuck, st-stan, more, please, rich, harder-" richie's smirking at how needily as you try to keep your eyes open for stan, like a good girl, while pushing your back against richie's chest while he curls his fingers up into your pussy, "richie, richie, faster, please, more, more-"
you're so close, that knot tightening in your stomach, every little touch on you making you come closer to release. your whimpering and whining makes it that much better when he pulls his hand away from you completely, making you whimper, tugging at his wrist.
"r-rich, i'm not- i didn't-" you whimper. stan had no idea you'd be so submissive. richie chuckles, popping his fingers in his mouth and cleaning them with his tongue. your breath quickens and your hips buck, "i know, princess, open your legs and be a good girl."
you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, rubbing your thighs together in frustration before spreading them wider. richie rolls his eyes and tugs your legs wider. you’re so wet, practically dipping over your thighs, your panties are soaked. you’re so exposed to him, your shirt fully tugged off now, bare except the skirt that’s pooled around your waist as richie makes a mess of you. “you’re so wet, princess, you love showing off like this, don’t you?” you nod needily, pushing your hips down. stan’s hand has dropped to your thigh, gripping slightly. you practically shiver in excitement at the sound of richie undoing his belt buckle, “god, you’re so needy.”
he’s pulling himself out of the confines of his briefs and stan realises why richie had to fuck you on his fingers first, he’s aligning the thick tip of his cock to your entrance. stan looks at how you’re whimpering, desperate for him to hurry up and fuck you. stan’s eyes on you make you even wetter, the hungry look on his face making you open your legs wider, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the best way possible.
richie runs his tip over your entrance, he’s lifting you up by the inside of your thighs so stan can see all of you. the blunt head of his cock nudges up against your clit and you let out a high-pitched keening noise that makes richie smirk, “she’s so noisy, isn’t she?”
stan nods, murmuring softly, “such a good slut for us, huh?” richie feels your thighs shake minutely in his grip as tip teases your entrance. stan’s voice rumbles through you, making you whimper, blushing from his words, “r-richie, please, need you so bad.”
the tip of him stretches you out as he coos softly into your ear, “what do you need, princess?” he’s teasing you, feeling you clench weakly around him.
your voice comes out wrecked from your moaning and begging, your eyes on stan’s while you speak between gasps, “need your cock, richie, pl-please, i wanna be a good slut for you, please.” richie’s holding your legs farther apart, you can hear the cockiness in his voice, “remember kitten, eyes on stan for me, okay? can you do that?” you’re nodding and with that, richie pulls you onto his cock, stretching you out in one stroke, taking you to the hilt. the moan that escapes you goes straight to stan’s dick. “richie-!” you moan, whimpering as he buries his length in you, glad richie's holding you up, otherwise you’d fall forwards with the force he bottoms into you. your eyelashes flutter as you try to keep your eyes on stan- like a good girl - as you take him. richie gives you a second to adjust, shallowly rolling his hips, making you whimper with every grind into your soaking wet cunt.
he mutters low into your ear, “can you take more, princess?” you nod, grinding your hips down to take him even deeper, feeling him nudge your cervix. he laughs lightly into your hair, “good girl.”
the stretch of him inside is so blissfully good, your fucked out expression making stan groan. richie pushes up against your walls perfectly, hitting every sensitive spot as he starts bouncing you on his cock, each movement bringing you more pleasure than the last. you’re making noises that stan doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of, “f-fuck, richie, feels so good-” you can barely finish a sentence, feeling his cock fuck into you faster as he pulls you up and down onto him. your praise makes richie groan, “such a good girl, princess, fucking taking my cock so good,” he suddenly lets go of one of your thighs, the suddenness of it making you yelp as he grabs your chin, gripping it so your chin juts out, facing stan, the roughness of the action turning you on even more,
“your good girl, just for you,” you say between moans, you’re looking at stan as you say it. the sight of you bouncing in richie’s lap, your thigh pulled up against your bare chest, your skirt pushed back so that stan can see the mess of your slick there has him letting out a groan, “holy shit.”
you’re being pulled onto his cock rapidly, the lewd smack of skin going between stan’s legs as he grips his bulge to relieve the tension. richie tilts your chin out, your lax body complying to his touch, “see that, princess? you’re being so good for us,” stan’s touching himself to you, for you. at this, you clench around richie’s length, eliciting a soft moan from him, “f-fuck, just like that, fuck, she’s so tight.”
stan swallow, palming himself harder, voice thick with arousal, “can i kiss her again?” richie must nod because he reaches up, cupping your face, kissing you softly, a contrast from richie’s fast strokes inside of you, the soft feeling of stan’s lips on yours making you whimper, your soft noises slipping into his mouth.
your walls are clenching harder as richie uses you, that knot in your abdomen tightening again, richie’s thrusts speed up, slamming into you, hitting home with every thrust, “already? fuck, you really are just a dumb slut, aren’t you?” your eager nods are getting sloppy as he fucks you faster. you’re tightening around him and he groans, “fuck, feel so good, princess.” the hand on your chin moves to wrapping around your waist, using the leverage to bend you over, his pace never faltering, the sudden change in position making you moan louder. richie pulls you up by tugging on your hair, tipping your head up so you’re looking up at stan. fuck, he has no right to look this good, hair dishevelled from you tugging on it, lips red and swollen from kissing.
you shift slightly so you’re bent over. stan swears he almost dies when you start mouthing wetly over his bulge, muttering soft curses under his breath as you look up at him with pleading eyes. you’re a moaning whimpering mess “please, stan? wanna make you feel good.”
stan looks up for richie’s approval and richie nods, there’s some curls falling over his face, eyes screwed shut behind his glasses, grunting softly, “fill her fucking mouth, she’s gonna scream.” that’s all stan needs before he’s undoing his fly, his cock hitting up against his abdomen. stan’s big. like really, really big. your mouth seems to water at the sight. he groans, grabbing the base of his cock, watching you press soft kisses to the tip, “good fucking slut.” you take his tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, bobbing your head slightly, taking him deeper.
“fuck, she’s good at that,” he murmurs, running his hand through your hair approvingly. you whimper from the praise, taking him deeper, eager to make him feel good as his hand tightens in your hair.
the tug on your hair, the ramming of richie’s cock inside of you, the muttered praises has you moaning around stan’s length, feeling the tension building up inside of you. stan groans as you whine around him and richie reaches between your legs, rubbing your poor clit. the room fills with heady groans of good girl, soft praises, their hands all over you, caressing your cheek and gripping your hips.
richie grabs a handful of your ass, “cum for me then, princess, cum while we’re using you, show stan how good you are for him.”
richie’s words undo you, the building pleasure exploding, waves of pleasure crashing onto you, richie hitting your g-spot with every thrust, stan bucking eagerly into the heat of your mouth, richie doesn’t stop, instead fucking you harder, letting you ride out your high. you moan loudly around him as stars seem to crowd your vision, the hand in your hair pushes you onto further so he’s hitting the back of your throat. stan’s cursing, the feeling of you taking him so well, hollowing out your cheeks as you weakly bob your head making him moan, “fuck, i’m going to cum, babygirl,” you move your head faster, looking up at him, before pulling back, messy with spit, eyes watery as you pump his length in your hand, voice ruined, throat sore, “cum for me, stan, please?”
you wrap your lips around stan’s shaft, taking him deeper, overstimulated from richie fucking you harder. your sloppy movements and the sight of you taking richie still has stan cumming down your throat embarrassingly fast, hips bucked up so you’re pulled flush against his base. soft moans are spilling rapidly from his mouth. he’s sure it’s the hardest he’s ever cum, his warmth fills your mouth as his cock throbs, his groans sending heat between your legs.
stan’s head tilts back in pleasure, face flushed and mouth parted and it’s a sight you could get used to. grabbing your hips and fucking you harder, richie finishes inside of you, rolling is hips harshly as your walls clench around him from overstimulaton, “just like that, f-uck, good girl,” his groans rumble through your spent body as he finishes, spilling inside of you, you dimly hope the grip on your hips bruises, a reminder of this, of stan looking at you with hooded eyes as you slump forward in richie’s hold.
you whimper as richie pulls out, looking up at stan, utterly fucked out, hickies and lovebites trailing down your throat and collarbone. you reach up, in your post-orgasmic haze, yo realise you never made fun of stan for that mole on his cheek. you trace it, across the slope of his cheekbone. richie made that, you think, giggling dizzily as you rub your thumb over it, a little bit of stan and a little bit of richie.
stan pushes up against your touch, holding the back of your palm with his so he can kiss your hand, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the neediness of the way he was thrusting into your mouth and it makes you laugh into his stomach.
he shoves you gently and richie pinches your ass, making you laugh harder. richie groans, “why are you always so giggly after sex?”
“nothing,” you murmur, kissing stan’s hips where his shirt’s ridden up, “we can do that again sometime, right?”
stan and richie say, yes absolutely at the same time which makes you giggle. you perk your head up to look at richie, then at stan, “thank you, this was..” you trail off because there are no words, “everything.”
they take turns kissing you, soft pecks on your lips and cheeks, “don’t mention it, babydoll.”
stanley uris x virgin!reader. warnings: oral (fem recieving), swearing, sexual refrences. sixteen plus!!!
It started when Richie spoke the uncomfortable question that day in the Clubhouse.
It was a sunny day, a Thursday, and you and the rest of the Losers had gone there to hang out after jumping into the Quarry.
“Y/N! It’s your turn! Truth, or dare?”
“I already picked ‘dare’ five times in a row, Trashmotuh,” you crossed your arms.
“Whatever. OK. Y/N!”
“That’s my name.”
“Ever been eaten out before?”
Richie snickered. Stanley, beside you, looked down at the floorboards, something washed over his face – confusion?
“You can’t answer a question with a question, Y/N,” Beverly threw a piece of crumpled paper at Richie but missed.
“Um, no, I guess. Why? What, what does that mean?”
Even Eddie looked amused.
“Nothing,” Stan spoke loudly. “It means nothing.”
“Whatever you say, Stan the Man. Oh my god! Look at how fucking hard he -” Richie pointed to Stan and Eddie slapped his arm down before you could see what he was pointing at and he scowled.
“Shut up, Richie,” your best friend didn’t let him finish. “Or I swear I’ll give you a black eye.”
“Who would w – win?” Bill laughed, not bothering to hold him back.
“Stan, probably,” Eddie squeaked.
“Five bucks,” spoke Ben.
“You’re on.” The fact that even Mike and Eddie knew what Richie was talking about made you want to shove your face into a pillow in embarrasment.
Stanley didn’t seem fussed that you didn’t know, in fact, you thought, it amused him.
Or at least, he was smiling at it.
The smirk which grew on his face made your heart beat a thousand times faster.
“Wait, I’m still confused,” Beverly covered her mouth. “What does it mean?”
“It means nothing,” Stan repeated.
“Stan’s just jealous because he wants to be the first one who -”
“Shut UP, Richie!” Stanley’s face was red.
“Yeah, shut up, it’s getting kind of disgusting.”
Richie backed down – for now.
“You’re making her uncomfortable,” Beverly covered your ears. “Stop it.”
“I can still hear, y’know,” she laughed and removed her hands. “Well,” you got up. “I have to go.” You didn’t, you were just embarassed. “See you tomorrow. Bye, Mike.”
“I’m coming with you. Y’know, to -”
“To f -”
“Keep you safe.”
You rolled your eyes but Stan got up.
“Bye.” Mike crossed his arms and glared at Richie as Bev called after you miserably.
“Aww, N/N! No! Stan! Guys!”
“They always do this. Always.” Spoke Ben. “I swear, like, every time.” Bill nodded.
They watched as you ignored them, climbing up the ladder, not bothering to check if Stanley was following you – he was, and he ran up just as you were about to shut the door on him.
“Mind if I stay over?”
Yes. I do mind, go home, Stanley, and let me wallow in self pity.
“Well, my parents aren’t gonna be back any time soon, so I guess not.”
“I can’t believe it’s seven already.”
“Yeah. So, what do you wanna do?” You weren’t really that enthusiastic.
“Anyone ever tell you how pretty you were?”
“Let me tell you,” he whispered. “You, Y/N L/N, are prettier,” he spoke the words like a spell. “Than any girl I’ve ever met before,” he made you blush and you didn’t know why. He stepped closer. “Wanna know why?”
“Sure.” Was all you could manage.
He chuckled softly.
“You’re intelligent,” he paused, lowering his hand. “Funny,” lower. “Creative,” so close it was touching, but you didn’t mind. “Unique,” even closer now. “And so. Fucking. Wet.”
Your body jerked at the sudden touch of his hand against your tights.
You threw your head back. He’d never, ever callen you… that… before.
“Please…” you struggled to get the words out. “Keep going.”
“All you had to say. Just… jump.”
“Jump. Go on. Jump.”
“Exactly like that.”
Legs wrapped around his waist, he carried you to your bed, hand stroking your pussy.
“Stan,” he placed you down.
“Take them off, take my clothes off,”
“Whatever you say, babygirl.”
You threw your head back once again.
“Like it when I call you that?”
“Always knew you were sub.”
“This,” he murmured, mouth open at your entrance. “Is what ‘giving head’ is.”
“What -” and then you gasped, clutched the sheets with your fists. “Oh. Stan. Oh!” He didn’t reply, just kept going. Your legs felt like jelly, you wanted to close your eyes…
“You can close your eyes, babygirl,”
So you did, letting out soft moans as he ate you, crying out his name as his tongue dove in and out.
Your legs shook even more, you clutched the curls atop his head.
“Stan, I’m gonna,”
“Beg for it.”
“Please, please, let me cum, please.”
“Such a good girl.”
The words made your stomach twist.
He shook his head and you wanted to cry as he went on and on and on.
“No can do.”
He went back in.
“Please. I can’t -”
“I swear if you cum right now, Y/N -”
You were on the climax of your orgasm.
“Oh my god. Oh, fuck. Stan! Oh, fuck, Stan,” and it was just his mouth. “Stan, I’m gonna cum!”
And then you came, moaning his name like a prayer, collapsing on the bed.
Request: I absolutely adore your writing! If you’re taking requests could you do something about being stuck in quarantine with either richie or stan (but like married bc I’m soft for domestic fluff)!
Thank you so much darling! I hope you don’t mind I made this into headcanons! <3
Comments are much appreciated!
The start of this Quarantine season was a DISASTER for your husband, Mr. Clean Freak Stan Uris.
One morning, near the start of the first wave, you’d wake up at 6 a.m. to a squeaking noise and cold, empty sheets perfectly made up beside you. Wandering down the stairs, you yawn as you spot the set of your husband through the living room door frame, standing in nothing but his pyjamas. He’s surrounded by about fifteen different types of cleaning clothes, and about five different brands of window sprays. His hair is all messed up, his glasses slightly askewed on his nose as he meticulously wipes down the living room windows.
‘Stanley, we are literally the only two people who have set foot in this house since Richie and Eddie popped round last month!’
‘I know hun, but I sneezed in here yesterday and I couldn’t sleep until I had wiped every surface in this household down.’
He’s constantly running baths for you once you’ve finished working for the day, just as a small reminder that he loves you. He always places your favourite smelling bath bomb in the tub as he mixes the steaming water with his arm, swirling in a few rose petals he keeps in a glass jar under the bathroom sink for special occasions.
When he leads you up, hands placed over your eyes as the two of you laugh against each other, the little gasp of surprise you give makes everything worth it.
When you slip off your clothes and sit into the warm water, he kneels down by the side of the tub and runs his pointer finger over your cheek with a warm smile, before leaning in to kiss you. You make him squeak, however, by grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the bath on top of you.
After the suds spill out over the edge, and the water level steadies against the rim again, he throws his glasses onto the counter and leans down to kiss you again, smiling against your lips as his hands reach under the water to grip onto your thighs. His kisses become a little sloppier, a little more heated, when you reach up to pull his soaking jacket off his shoulders.
The two of you are so busy during the day, that Stanley always likes to make sure the evenings are yours, and only yours, especially now since the two of you can’t get outside.
Making dinner together is a big quarantine activity for the two of you. The radio hums lowly in the corner by the spice rack, a slow 80s song echoing through the kitchen. Your husband comes up behind you, where you stand cooking by the stove, and places his head heavily on your shoulder, smirking into your neck.
You try to shove him off, giggling as he takes the spatula from your hand and places it next to the sizzling pan, trapping you against his chest as he slowly sways the two of you to the music.
One night was special, though, when the radio started playing the song that was your first dance at your wedding - the same song that was playing in the arcade when the two of you met for the first time at thirteen years old.
Let’s just say, that night was a GOOD night.
He buys the two of you matching pyjamas online when time starts to go on and he sees you need cheering up.
Constantly stealing his knitted jumpers and jackets when you wake up in the morning, because they always seem so warm, and they always have that warm smell of strawberries and shea butter that surrounds him. His jaw always drops when he walks into your shared study with two cups of tea in his hand, jumping out of his reverie when the hot droplets splash onto his thumbs.
You wake up one day to find the house a MESS. You follow the trail of thrown blankets, knocked over ornaments and kicked off slippers down to the living room, only to see a pair of scared eyes and a few curls peer out from a mass of blankets, pegs and pillows you could only assume was supposed to be a blanket fort. You try to stifle a laugh as he begins to try and wiggle out of the blanket and string of fairy lights he had managed to wrap himself in.
If you go out to buy groceries, he will annoy the ever living heck out of you because he texts you every five seconds to make sure that you're okay, that you still have your mask, to ask if they had bananas at the store.
Jigsaw times! When the two of you need a little relaxing time, he’ll pull two of the sofa cushions to the floor and pulls you next to him, pulling out his favourite robin jigsaw from underneath the table. This always ends up with you sitting on his lap, one arm wrapped around your shoulder and idly playing with your hand as he kisses your forehead, the two of you talking about vacations you’ll take once all of this is over.
He loves to fiddle with your wedding band, just to remind himself that you’re real, and he’s safe, and so so in love.
“a character sleeping with a stuffed animal that their lover won for them at the amusement park “ with richie or stan?
bear - stanley uris
↳ prompts - a character sleeping with a stuffed animal that their lover won for them at the amusement park
↳ content warnings - none i think. this is all just super fluffy
↳ 1.3k word count
@bucky-j-barnes @whaddyameann @justanotherkpopstanlol @amberritonicole @deadyfreddy join my tag list
stanley tried to be as quiet as possible as he turned the doorknob to her bedroom door and pushed it open. y/n’s mother had let him know that she was taking a nap when she had let him into the house, and stan had promised to not disturb her, but to wait until she woke up to talk to her instead. stan spent so much time at her house that her mother trusted him. many nights of the week he had dinner at her house, and he had pretty much integrated into the family.
the door pushed open with a quiet though noticeable creak, the old hinges on the door complaining at the action. her bedroom, although it was still daytime, was dark as she had pulled her curtains. she had blackout ones that kept the room dark when she wanted it to be. in the darkness stan could just about make out y/n’s body curled up underneath the covers on her bed, though his eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the dark enough to see much else. he pushed the door shut, cursing under his breath at the creak, before he gently dropped his bag to the floor so he could move over to the bed.
as his eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark, he could see y/n much clearer as he stopped beside her bed. she was curled up on her left side in a tight ball, and it made him smile a little more. she always curled up as small as possible in her sleep, and when he stayed over she didn’t let go of him the whole night. he could see since he hadn’t been there when she had fallen asleep that she was holding onto something else, and as he carefully kicked off his shoes he noticed that she was hugging the teddy bear that he had won her at the amusement park a few weeks ago.
the losers had made a day of it - getting up early and taking two cars to get there (ben, mike, bev, and bill took the latter’s car, and stan and y/n carpooled with eddie and richie in his car), and then they spent the whole day at the park. richie wanted to go on all of the huge rides (that eddie and ben skipped on going), bev was a fan of the water rides, and in the evening y/n found the fair side of it all really fun. she spent ages at the slot machines, shooting cups with rubber bullets, and the dreaded claw machines. as richie wanted to go on the rides again before they shut (much to eddie’s misery), stan joined y/n walking around the fair, and eventually won her a huge teddy bear at one of the stalls. it took him a while, granted; it was one of those water pistol ones that had him knocking down cardboard ducks, but it was worth it seeing her smile when he handed her the humongous pink teddy bear afterwards that she later proudly named ‘stannie‘, after “the hero who won him for me“.
stan smiled fondly at the memory as he carefully sat on the bed beside her, making sure not to jolt it too much so she didn’t wake up. she looked so peaceful when she was sleeping, and he didn’t want to disturb even just a moment of her peace.
he propped himself up against the headboard and leaned back, relaxing into the soft bed. y/n was still curled up beside him, undisturbed by his movements, so he gently moved an arm around her so his palm was flat on her back. he slowly started rubbing small circles through the material of her shirt (which was also his, he noticed that she often wore his clothes to bed) not to wake her up, just to be touching her. physical contact was a big thing for stanley, it was his love language. maybe not so much in public - he hated any sort of pda that was more than holding her hand or kissing her cheek. though in private he couldn’t get close enough to her.
he had sat there for approximately another half an hour before y/n started to stir. stan could feel her moving beside him, stretching out slightly as she rolled closer to him. she kept one arm around the bear as she turned, though when her other arm had come in contact with stanley she seemed to pause, startled by the sudden person on her bed. when her head had tilted slightly to look at him her eyes were squinted, and she reached out to touch him again - tapping his hip - as if she were checking he were really there.
“stannie?” her voice was quiet and still thick with sleep, and combined with her not-so-awake confused expression, she just looked adorable to stanley.
“hi love,” stan whispered, and he could see her physically relax when he spoke. “i didn’t want to wake you when i came in.”
“s’okay.” y/n nodded as her eyes already started falling shut again. she relaxed again once she knew that it was stanley laying beside her, and shifted to let her head lay against his stomach. without hesitation stan brought his hand up to gently drag his fingers through her hair, and almost immediately he could see she physically relaxed more. a soft sigh passed her lips, and stan smiled to himself when she moved her arm to hug his hips.
she seemed like she had fallen asleep again as she leaned against him so stan stayed quiet as he continued moving his fingers through her hair, though was surprised when she tilted her head so she was looking up at him and squinted her eyes open slightly.
“how’d you get away from richie to come over? he throws a tantrum when he’s gonna be left alone.” she mumbled, and stan tipped his head back and laughed.
he had been at richie’s house all morning reading some new comics that he had gotten recently. though y/n was right, richie hated being alone. which is why he filled his days with going out with his friends whenever he could. though thankfully eddie had come over to richie’s house, which allowed stan time to sneak away. richie wouldn’t have noticed him leave as he was too in love with eddie to see anything else when he was there.
“eddie came over.” stan told her and she smiled sleepily.
“remind me to thank him on monday. you wouldn’t be here otherwise.” she smiled and stan nodded as he continued gently stroking through her hair.
“will do, love.” he said softly, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss to her forehead, her skin warm against his lips.
he moved to lean back again, though her arm had caught around his neck and this time she really did seem to be falling back to sleep, so stan carefully slipped an arm underneath her legs and his other behind her back to carefully lift her to be cradled to his chest instead. she smiled softly as she tucked her head against his neck, and her hand made a fist in his jumper as he slipped his hand underneath her shirt to gently rub her back.
“love you, stannie.” y/n mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by his jumper.
stan smiled softly and pressed another gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “i love you too.”
summary | Hello. Can you please do a Stan Uris x reader where the does self harm and Stan has to force them to talk about, and it ends in fluff and cuddles.
editor | @feliscatus-exe
>> linktree <<
You watched as your friends swam around the quarry, splashing each other with water. You were physically present, but your mind was elsewhere. It’s not like you could help it, of course. Your thoughts always seemed to drift when you were hanging out with them.
“Hey, you alright?” A soft voice questioned. You looked up and saw Stan laying down his towel next to you and sitting.
“What? Y-Yeah um… I’m just thinking, yaknow?” You replied.
“Oh, okay… You’re sure nothings wrong?” He asked, his tone far more comforting than you liked to admit. You gave a meek smile.
“I’m sure Stan. Thank you.”
“And you would tell me? If there was something wrong you’d tell me, right?” He asked, never letting his gentle way of speaking falter. You swallowed and looked away, bringing your knees close to your chest so you could hug them. You nodded slowly.
“I care about you (Y/n). We all do. A lot.” He whispered. You bit your lip, trying to keep the tears from spilling out of your eyes.
“I-I know.” Your voice cracked.
“Then… Can you please talk to me? I know when something is wrong so… What aren’t you telling me?” He asked, grabbing your hand. You instinctively pulled away, no doubt confirming what he was already suspecting. You could see his face fall in your peripheral vision, which only made you feel worse.
“When did you start again?” He asked quietly. You chewed on your lip even harder, doing everything you could to prevent more tears from falling. It proved pointless as your body began to shake slightly from your crying. Admitting it to yourself was always so hard, let alone somebody else. Somebody you cared about so much.
“(Y/n). You need to talk to me.” He whispered as he gently grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. You could see every little sparkle in those beautiful hazel eyes of his, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you. He made you feel safe. So you nodded.
“But… Not here. Please. I don’t want the others to know I started again. At least not yet.” You replied. Stan nodded before standing up.
“Guys, (Y/n) and I are going to head out. Sun’s finally catching up to us.” He yelled to the rest of the Losers, who were all still swimming in the quarry. Half of them protested but the other half showed no obligation and only wished you safety on your trip home.
Stan began to gather his things, as well as yours. Once everything was packed up, he grabbed your hand and led you up the path that his bike was parked on. He hopped on and motioned you to stand on his pegs, which you did happily. Once you firmly planted your feet down, he fastened your arms around his waist. You leaned your head against his back and inhaled, his shirt smelling strongly of pine needles and river water.
“Thank you…” You whispered, your words inaudible due to your face being buried in his clothes. You didn’t mind though. He was there, and that’s what mattered.
Watercolors & Waterfalls || College!Stanley Uris x Reader
Day 4 of Fictober
Fandom: It (2017/2019)
Pairings: College!Stanley Uris x [gn]College!Reader
Requested: Hi! Could I get a college Stan x reader where she’s an art student and always doing silly stuff and like booping his nose with paint and he acts like “ugh quit it” but he’s actually so in love? Thank youuuuu!
A//n: Hiya, honey! Thanks so much for requesting, and such an adorable one too! I could picture it as soon as I read it and I'm glad to finally be getting to it. It's not as long as I wanted since I didn't have all day to work on it and get it published in time, so I hope to come back and expand later. But hopefully this will do for now. Hope you enjoy! **** UGH okay i SWEAR i got this done before midnight, its just the whole editing process took a lot longer than anticipated and my day today was pretty busy.
Fictober Day 4: "that didn't stop you before"
"I seen a rainbow yesterday, But too many storms have come and gone, Leavin' a trace of not one God-given ray,"
Stan looks up from his text book when he realizes he's reread the same paragraph for the fourth time. Stan looks up from his text book when he realizes he's reread the same paragraph for the fourth time.
You sat across from him at your desk preparing the last of your supplies, paint somehow already on your brow before your watercolor canvas as you bounce around in your seat to your radio.
"Is it because my life is ten shades of gray, I pray all ten fade away, Seldom praise Him for the sunny days,"
Stan watches completely perplexed as you spout the lyrics almost perfectly while you make slight adjustments to your work with the pencil behind you pulled from behind your ear. You were completely captivated by the music and the task before you, and completely unaware of his stare.
"And like his promise is true, Only my faith can undo, The many chances I blew to bring my life to anew," you began painting, your hand managing to stay steady as your body continued to bounce with the beat. "Clear blue and unconditional skies, Have dried the tears from my eyes, No more lonely cries,"
Oh, how Stanley wished he had his camcorder.
"My only bleedin hope is for the folk who can't cope, With such an endurin' pain that it keeps them in the pouring rain, Who's to blame for tootin' caine into your own vain? What a shame, you shoot and aim for someone else's brain, You claim the insane and name this day in time for fallin prey to crime I say this system got you victim to your own mind. Dreams are hopeless aspirations in hopes of coming true. Believe in yourself the rest is up to me and-"
"DON'T GO CHASING WATERFALLS!" You pull your head up to look at your boyfriend of four years with a grin before diving back in. "Come on Stan, I know you know it, -THE RIVERS AND THE LAKES THAT YOUR USED TO."
Stan sighs, not bothering to fight the eye roll that brings him back to his text book. Nor the tight-lipped smile that crept up on his face. All the while missing the playful grin you wear as you continue to belt the lyrics.
"I know you're gonna have your way or nothin' at all, But I think you're moving too fast,"
"And I thought we agreed to get some work done, today?" He asks, with a look of hidden playfulness.
You easily return his look with a cocked brow, your eyes pulling away from the small pool of blue water that swirled with your brush.
"I am getting my work done," you answer. "Aren't you?"
His textbook falls back flat on the desk as he looks at you from across the wooden table, perturbance written all over his face. But your smile only widened when you spotted the look in his eyes that never left when you were around. No matter how stressed Stanley got, how angry, his eyes always held a certain softness for you. You set your brush down, now leaning on both your folded arms as you met his gaze. He was much too tall for the dorm chair he sat in now, his skinny frame towered over the desk in a long hunch that all piled onto of the table across from you.
"You said I'd be able to study," he says.
You shrug. "So study,"
Another flat look. "Y/n, I love you but you're kind of making it impossible."
"Oh yeah? How so?"
"You know exactly how,"
Your eyes fall away from his, your hands coming to lazily pick up your brush and fingers fiddling with the bristles. You can still feel his eyes drilling into yours, but you merely focus on wet beads of paint that spill onto your fingertips as you wear an exaggerated look of confusion.
"I don't know what your talking about," your innocent tone is laced with sarcasm.
Stan sighs. Don't be fooled, he adores every minute he spends with you which was why he was so eager to come to your dorm when you asked him to sit in for reference. Your current media study was watercolors, and to test your limits a bit, you had asked your loving boyfriend if he would be your reference model. He was your inspiration after all, and he adored your work. Anytime you did anything outside of school - which was a lot, mind you - Stan would make a HUGE deal about it and talk his way into keeping it. His dorm walls were completely filled with your artwork, he was no doubt your biggest fan. But today?
Well, today was another sit in day, probably one of the last ones so to speak. You had already had a few so that you could sketch him - he was NOT allowed to look, which frustrated him greatly - and he had quickly learned to bring something to do keep him busy. Unfortunately for Stanley, pressures had begun to rise in his classes as of late and Stanley was, to put it delicately, a rubber band ready to snap.
So here he was, sitting before you and your mini tabletop easel he wasn't allowed to peek at as you met his stern gaze with a mischievous glint in your eye.
"Y/n, I mean it-"
You freeze as you stare at your boyfriend with your jaw hanging open in a smile. While playing with the bristles, several blue droplets of paint had gone airborne and landed all across his face. His eyes were screwed shut, lips pursed uncomfortably as blue streaks fell down his face, painting his skin.
Finally, when he's sure he was clear of paint getting in his eyes, he opened them to find you still frozen with the goofiest look on your face.
"...Whoops." you chuckle.
He just blinks at you, and before he can speak you slowly extent your brush and dot his nose with paint. "...Boop."
He shakes his head in disbelief, lips puckered as he tries fighting a smile; a battle he sorely looses. You match his grin, the undeniable love sick gaze in his eyes behind that playful anger he wore.
"You're gonna pay for that," he says finally.
You scoff. "Seriously? It was accident!"
You laughed again. "And then, yeah, the other was on purpose. But its cool though, cause you look adorable."
Without breaking his gaze, he dips his fingers in your glass jar of paint water, and flicks his hand your face making you recoil. Your playful fury surfaces, and you rise to your feet to tower over him.
"Are you challenging me, Uris?" You asked. "If so, don't expect me to play by the rules, cause I won't. I won't hold back,"
He rises to meet your eye level, eyes squinting, palms on the table and your noses inches apart.
"That didn't stop you before,"
You smirk, left hand going unnoticed as it wrapped around the mason jar of paint water that sat on the desk beside you.
Summary: Meeting your soulmate is something that you've dreamed of for a while. Who would have thought it would happen like this?
Word Count: 0.9k
You couldn't help but wonder what your soulmate would be like once you met them. Would they be chivalrous or frivolous? Would they be talkative or reserved? Where would you two end up meeting?
Sighing, your head came down to lay gently on the table, turned so you could gaze at the small timer on your forearm. 'Only time can tell, I guess.'
"Hey (Y/n), you okay?"
You instantly perked up at the sudden presence of your friend Beverly.
"Oh, Bev! Yes, I'm fine. I was just..." You paused for a moment. You didn't really want to mention your nerves about meeting your soulmate. It was a bit embarrassing, you should be looking forward to it, not shying away from it. "...thinking about something."
Despite your lack of detail, Beverly seemed to understand what you were getting at. She had been your friend for several years and she knew you practically as well as you knew yourself.
"What is it? Are you afraid they won't like you or something? We've already had this conversa–"
"No, no," You waved your hands in front of her, completely dismissing her idea. Some people did really struggle with that, believing that their destined wouldn't like them for some awful reason. You wouldn't lie and say you never had those thoughts but they weren't as relevant anymore. You didn't struggle with that anymore. In your mind, if you were destined, then you were destined, and if your soulmate didn't accept it then it's something they would have to figure out.
You softly skimmed your fingers over the ticking number, the hairs on your arm sticking up slightly from your cold fingers. "I don't have much time. I'm just thinking about them. Who they are, what they look like, what they want to become..."
Beverly smiled at your expression. It was like you were already in love but you didn't even know who they were yet. She knew that your soulmate is a lucky person and whoever it is would get a stern talking from her if they ever hurt you.
"How long?" Beverly questioned, leaning in to look at your arm.
"Oh! That means you're meeting them tomorrow morning!"
"Hey quiet in the back! This time is supposed to be used for studying." Your teacher's voice scolded from the front of the classroom.
Beverly ducked her head, a mischievous smile growing on her flushed face. You chuckled at her, grabbing back onto your pencil before turning your attention to your chemistry worksheet.
Even with your pencil in your hand, it was hard to focus on your worksheet with the timer ticking on your forearm.
"Bye, mom!" You yelled into the house as you left, trying not to stumble down the front porch stairs. Your legs were practically shaking at this point and your fingers felt like they were vibrating from the nerves that coursed through you. You knew you didn't have long left but you didn't know exactly how long because you decided to wear a jacket to combat the heavy rain that fell from the sky.
It was a bit thrilling not being able to see the exact time. You knew that when you saw them it would be obvious anyway. Most people say that it's obvious when you find your soulmate. It's like all time stops and you two are the only ones that exist... yeah, pretty cheesy.
Your eyes danced around the sidewalk as you sped walked to school. Not many people walked this way to school, so you doubt you would meet them on the way but–
And then it happened. As your eyes rose from the edge of the sidewalk, it was like all time stopped. Across the crosswalk, there was a boy, staring at you with the same wide eyes. You stood still, eyes unable to move away from him.
Apparently, luck must have not been on his side. He was so entranced by the view of his soulmate that he forgot to look at what was in front of him.
You gasped, running across the empty crosswalk and to your soulmate who was covering his nose with his hands, his umbrella laying on the ground next to him.
"Are you okay?" You asked, crouching down and hovering your hands over him, not sure if you are allowed to touch him.
Your soulmate let out a laugh, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he smiled. Immediately, the tension in your body disappeared and you started to laugh as well.
"That was so not cool of me," Your soulmate groaned after calming down, finally opening his eyes to look at you again. Time didn't stop this time but it didn't feel any less special.
"Really? I think it was, you tried to take on that stop sign just for me." You grinned at him playfully, picking up his umbrella and holding it over him. It was a bit futile since he was already wet but he appreciated your effort.
"Sorry I couldn't do better. The stop sign is pretty invincible."
You shook your head and helped him up, handing his umbrella back to him.
"My name is (Y/n) (L/n)."
"Stanley Uris." He greeted back, his face slightly red from embarrassment.
"Wow, that was really how you met?" Richie questioned, leaning forward in the hammock. "That was so lame, Stan."
Stanley sunk down in his chair. Although it had been a few months, he still got embarrassed from how you two had met. You, of course, didn't care at all. You found it a bit endearing. Not everyone is perfect and seeing how Stanley responded in the situation made you fall further in love.
"Then why don't you tell us how you and Eddie met, Richie?" You inquired, leaning your head on your palm.
Richie's face bloomed red and he shot back into the hammock, burying his face in his comic book.
A/N: Hi, good evening, good morning. Since no one dropped a Christmas request in my ask box, not even one :(, I decided to just write out some prompts I found on the web by myself! Just because I love the holidays and I wanna write them, because that makes me feel more festive, more warm and fuzzy and because writing about the holidays takes away my loneliness, sadness and makes me feel a bit better. I hope you like this, it's a little something I wrote about my favourite man, favourite character, favourite person :) love him to death. Happy reading! Merry Christmas! Please stay safe <3
word count: 3.2k
Christmas used to be so fun. When you're a child, they always are. You know exactly what you wanted, you wrote a letter to Santa, decorated the Christmas tree and helped bake gingerbread men and reindeers. You put out a tray of cookies and a glass of milk on the night before Christmas morning and kept watch (and always fell asleep) in the living room to see Santa himself. It was just one of those miraculous events in your life that kept it interesting, that made every fall and winter so exciting. December was such an exciting month that you didn't even care how cold it got, and how dark it became on the afternoons, because everything was so bright and happy and exciting.
Now, when you've passed the mark of twenty years of life, and are sitting at your desk the night before Christmas Eve with no plans, nothing to look forward to except work, and no one to spend the holidays with, Christmas seems much so different. Your tired, disappointed eyes glance around the almost empty work room, glancing at your co-workers calling it a night and grabbing their coats and heading off. Some people's spouses have come to take them last minute Christmas shopping straight from work. Some people's moms and pops have called to get them home earlier. Some people's kids are waiting in the car downstairs. They're all ready for the holidays, and happy to get off work to spend time with their loved ones, friends and family. Not you.
Your eyes land on Stanley, who always tends to finish up last, always stays longer than anyone else, always volunteers to do so. His dark curls are casting almost theatrical shadows on his pale face from the lamp right above his head. His eyes are almost invisible because of the shadows and because of his glasses, which he pushes up his nose every once in a while, almost every four minutes and twenty seven seconds, you've noticed. Stanley's typing away. He seems to have a lot of work on his hands, and he seems very into it. Hmm, you almost chuckle at the thought. How enticing can accounting be? Different worlds, different people, you guess. Not two people are the same.
You catch yourself resting your chin on your hand as you watch Stanley across the room, and immediately withdraw from your position. You straighten your back and shoulders and yawn. You pull your arms straight up above your head and stretch them. Your legs feel glued to the floor, and your butt seems to be rotting away in the office chair you've sat in for the last six years. You have a lot of work to do, as well, right before the holidays, which should mean nothing to you, because you don't have anyone to celebrate them with, and you haven't even decorated your Christmas tree. But you do your assigned work, anyway, because you've almost procrastinated until the deadline and because you've got nothing else to do, really. Except think about Stanley Uris, and glance in his direction almost every two minutes, and wonder what his holiday plans are. Even though the office and you well know that he's jewish, he does get off work for Christmas and New Year's, so he's gotta have some plans. At least you speculate so. You could always be wrong, you think, but the man is very structured and productive, so it's unlikely he'll spend his days off work just lazying around on the sofa, watching TV and drinking beer.
Though you carelessly watch him nevertheless, which stalls your work progress, your ever-watching eyes fail to notice Stanley taking glances in your direction, too. But his glasses and the shadows across his face falling from his lamp might be an advantage to him and his shy glances your way, wouldn't they? You can't see his eyes, or where they're looking. So sometimes, you even make eye contact with each other and completely fail to notice or even feel it. Stanley can see the nervousness, the exhaustion on your face, as well as the ever-growing-in-quantity question marks across your features. You seem to be asking yourself a lot of questions inwardly, about yourself, your job and the people around you. He smiles to himself and returns to finishing this month's report. He can stare at you all he wants during lunch breaks and while you leave the office, he knows that. But what a sight you are… For his sore and overworked eyes, you're definitely the best and only view he'd choose to see at any time. He can't take his eyes off of you.
It's been dark outside since three pm today, but you think it's getting darker and darker by the minute. Silence surrounds you and Stanley alone in the office, everyone else having left already, the only sound heard is the clicking of your type-writers, the sound of turning pages and stacking them in neat piles. You know even your boss has left long ago, having to drive to the countryside early this year, since his mother got into an accident about two months ago, and needs a lot more help around the big family house now. It's only you, Stanley, the office lamps and over-looming darkness the outside weather brings, in the building. Alright, probably one or two janitors, as well.
If snow was falling, or even making an inescapable blizzard outside, it'd be a brighter work day. But no, Georgia hasn't been blessed with snow on the day before Christmas Eve this year. Such a pity. No matter what time it is, no matter where you are or what mood you have, snow seems to be a miracle worker at making you happy or happier, and making you smile. It always makes you believe in miracles more, it always gives you this amazing feeling that you can't quite put into words. Christmas already feels miserable to you, but take int eh factor of no snow and it's gonna feel proper depressing.
You glance at Stanley for what must be the thousandth time that evening, and the millionth that day, and huff to yourself. He seems so content over there, typing away with that small smile always shyly tugging at his lips, as if he'd thought of something funny, but a teacher had scolded him and he'd be trying to keep the smiles and giggles to himself. You tilt your head. He looks ever so pretty. You don't think you've seen a prettier man than Stanley in your whole life, and sometimes even the question 'is he real?' pops into your mind. Firstly, because he is so pretty it's almost unbelievable, almost unreal. Secondly, no one seems to notice just how pretty he is, or notice him at all. He's the quiet colleague, the one who keeps to himself during working hours and even at work parties. While you've talked to everyone, it seems, and you're sociable and talkative, Stanley stays by himself in a corner and no one even comes near him. If they do, it's probably to ask him to join something that's not really his cup of tea, and they walk away empty-handed. Stanley would never be the one to approach you, you'd always have to take the first step. At work parties, which you both always attend, you always come up to him and ask him how is he, and keep up some small talk. Yet, as eager as he seems to talk to you, answer your questions and ask you some in turn, he'll never be the one to start the conversation. But you guess that's something you really value about him. It's almost what makes him more special than anyone else.
You'd never call Stanley a show-off, and that's what you like about him. You guess that quiet guys have always been your type. Not the loud, bragging men like your coworkers Brad, Brian or Calvin. As fun as they are, as talkative and attractive they may be, they seem annoying to you. You'd trade a hundred brad-brian-calvins for one Stanley Uris, you always would. You didn't know when exactly you'd come across that realisation (or the crush that it came with), but it's been in the back of your mind for a while. Maybe it was when one of the brad-brian-calvins asked you out on a date, or offered to take you home after an office party. You couldn't place the day, and you feel like you don't need to.
This is the first Christmas you'll be spending alone. Mom and dad are on holiday in Hawaii - which you don't understand... Why would they want to spend such a warm and fuzzy festivity in a place that feels nothing like Christmas, and probably doesn't even celebrate it? But you guess they want to spend every moment they still have together, so you don't blame them for that. You do blame them for leaving you alone for the holidays. You have an uncle and an aunt, but they have their own Christmas plans, probably parties, which you haven't gotten invited to, and showing up out of the blue would just be plain rude. And about your friends… Well, in short, you don't have any. Yes, you did have friends in high school, and even one boyfriend, but that all faded away with graduating and then moving away for college. And even there, you hadn't made many great friends that you'd keep in touch with now. Your roommate was a party animal and she was around, to say politely, so you never really got along. And you'd always felt as an odd duck in your class. Everyone seemed to be friends with each other before you had the chance to introduce yourself to everyone, they had their own little groups and parties, except you. And there's no valuable people at work to be friends with (except Stanley, of course). So you're stuck with no friends now and forever, it seems.
Loneliness isn't an unfamiliar feeling to you, but as much as you've grown used to it your whole life, it's an unpleasant feeling nevertheless. You hate loneliness. And, of course, as everyone says, it's the worst to be alone and lonely during the holidays. Phoebe Cates was speaking truth when she said people get really depressed round the holidays, and it's no wonder. Not all people have family, not everyone has friends or a significant other, or the money to give everyone gifts, some people don't even have the money to make themselves a Christmas dinner. But it's mostly because they have no one to spend the event with. You sigh. You feel like you'll be one of those people. You have no one.
You glance at Stanley again, almost as if on queue with the thought. Do you think he's got no one, too? There's no ring on his finger. There's no photo on his desk with a girl or woman, except some group photo of Stanley among six other people you don't recognise, you've noticed the photo while passing or standing by his desk numerous times. They must be his college friends. Stanley's never brought anyone to office parties, while many of their colleagues usually bring spouses, flings or lovers. The times he's had to talk about himself, he's never once mentioned someone else, except his friends. So either he's keeping his relationship very secret, or he is single, just like you, which you hope for. You look back at your work. You're almost done with the rewrites. Couple more sentences and you're free to go home.
But you don't want to leave so soon, do you? No, you wanna stay in the impending silence of the empty office with Stanley, just he and you alone. But you also want to get home… But then again you don't. Ah, it's very complicated. Holidays and loneliness. Just finish up and go home, you creep. You shake your head and avoid looking at Stanley again and push yourself to finish those last sentences.
When they're done, you put your finished pages in a neat pile and place it next to the type-writer. You take your coat and your bag and stand up, and with one glance at Stanley again, you shut off your desk light. As you're walking towards the exit, you realise you haven't said any good-bye to him, which he must think weird. You stop in your tracks and then another thought crosses your mind. Would it be too straight-forward? Would it be weird, coming from you? Would it be weird for him? He'll probably say no, anyway, he's jewish! And you don't have a present for him. You don't know each other that well, anyway… It's not a good idea.
You look over your shoulder and see him still typing away, eyes seemingly on his work - that's what it looks like to you. Actually, he's looking right at you. But you neither feel, nor see it. You sigh. You're alone, just the two of you. And Stanley's always polite. And it looks like you're both single, and he probably doesn't have any important plans for tomorrow and he day after. So what the hell! Go for it.
You walk back to your desk, and you pass it, though from nerves, you almost run into the divider between yours and Karen's desks, but you quickly regain your balance and keep walking towards Stanley's desk. Once you reach it, you're almost blinded by the brightness of his lamp. You stand right in front of his desk, and Stanley lifts his head up to look at you. He pushes his glasses up his nose as you make eye contact, and you love that signature action of his so much you almost giggle. Instead, you give him a smile.
“I was gonna go already but… I had a question,” you admit to him. Stanley puts his still hands on his desk, next to his type-writer. He seems intrigued, and he seems to listen. He nods and you look down, feeling the nervousness suddenly returning, “are you doing anything tomorrow?” The question seems to puzzle Stanley at first, he blinks a few times as he still looks up at you. His lips even part a little.
He shrugs, then, and shakes his head. Stanley looks away from you. “Uh… no, n-no, not really.” He answers and then looks at you again with a sigh. “It's Christmas Eve tomorrow and I'm… Jewish.” He gives you a smile and you can't help but return the gesture, as his smile is so radiant and so contagious. You chuckle.
“Yeah, I know.” You say in response as you look down. It was a stupid idea to ask, anyway.
“Why do you ask?” Stanley questions then, and takes you by surprise. You lift your head up with widened eyes. Your mind goes blank for a second.
“Well, I--” immediately, there's defense-mechanism responses ready to jump out, many back-hands at the ready, but you silence them all, “it just so happens that I'm alone this Christmas,” you start to say and look down at your hands, pick at your nails, “and I don't wanna spend it alone, so…” you look at Stanley again, “and I know you're Jewish and that you don't really celebrate,” you butt in a chuckle, “but I was just wondering… maybe you'd want to… have dinner together?” You look into his eyes and every possible negative outcome of the situation flashes before your eyes. He blinks again, he has to register that you've actually asked him this.
“I'd love to.” He answers truthfully with a smile on his face. You smile in return, wider than ever, and your cheeks turn pink. You nod, then, and look quickly down at your hands again.
“Wonderful! Um… Do you wanna like, get takeout and eat in or… eat out somewhere?” You ask already. Stanley shakes his head.
“Whatever works for you.” He says. You laugh.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” You admit, and you make Stanley laugh.
“Oh.” He says. “Well… I don't want to make you have to make dinner.” He admits.
“Oh, it's no bother, really. I can just… get one of those pop-in chickens or something… Whatever you like to eat! You're not vegetarian, right?”
Stanley shakes his head. “Well--well, maybe I can help you… make dinner.” He offers. Oh, you hadn't thought of that.
“Uh…” you trail off, “yeah, that could work fine with me.” You say and mutter a quiet chuckle. “What do you wanna have, then? I guess we'll have to each buy our own ingredients.” You make a shy smile. Stanley nods and thinks on it for a moment.
“Well, since it's Christmas Eve, and you're… inviting me over, I presume?” He clarifies and you nod. You suddenly feel proud of yourself for doing it, and for receiving a positive answer. “We could make some traditional jewish dishes.”
“That's a good idea.” You say. “Okay, yeah, let's do it.” That'll be something new and exciting (more exciting than Stanley coming over) for you to try. You'll get to know Stanley better, as well, and his religion.
As he goes over what you two could make, and then he makes a list for groceries to buy, you feel yourselves getting closer and closer to each other. It's when Stanley's made a list and hands it to you that you feel the exact proximity of your closeness. You've leaned over the front of his desk so far that Stanley's nose is a couple inches away from yours. And there's a very apparent urge in both of you to push just a little bit further and collide. But you don't. You both shy away from the opportunity too fast, and quite literally - you pull away from each other and feel like you can breathe again. Seems you had been holding your breaths before.
“Right.” You lift the list up in the air and smile, trying to rid the room of the strained silence. “Thanks so much for this. And thanks for saying yes.” You say with a wide smile and gratitude in your eyes. Stanley gives a smile in return and pushes his glasses up his nose again with a nod.
“You're welcome.” He answers. “I'll see you tomorrow night, then. Your place. The one downtown, right?” He clarifies.
“Well, it's not exactly downtown, but on the way there, yeah.” You precise. You both smile and Stanley nods. “I'll see you tomorrow, then. Have a good night.” You say. It feels like there's more to say, or more to do than just this simple, deducting good-bye. But you don't know what it is. Stanley doesn't know, either, and you spend a few seconds in silence, just staring awkwardly and in yearning at each other with question marks in both your eyes.
“Good night, then. Drive safe.” Stanley wishes and turns back to his work. You nod and chuckle.
“Can never be too careful on these Georgia roads, can you?” You say and walk away with a chuckle. You both bid your good-byes when you've almost walked out of the office, and Stanley gives you a small wave before you do. You smile and give him the same in return before closing the door after yourself. Merry Christmas to me.
he appreciate you, but the most attractive in you for him is your loyality. don't matter how many time he get beaten up from the bowers or getting bullied because of his religion, you never leave his side. and everytime you stand by his side, he falls in love with you more and more.
𝐛 = 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲? 𝐰𝐡𝐲/𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭?)
after the school and the university –yes, of course, but if you don't want them, then that's entirely okay. but now, he don't want to talk about kids, or family, he just wants to live his little dream with you.
𝐜 = 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞?)
stan loves the most when you hug him from behind while he bikes with you. it's even better if you tilt your head to the nape of his neck; the little curls down there strokes your forehead, just like his kisses.
𝐝 = 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞?)
he likes the quiet, peaceful dates. the sunny saturdays, where the two of you just go out, sitting under a tree, reading and eating little biscuits. you make pictures about the birds he likes with your polaroid cam, the instant photo get sticked in his book immediately.
stan fell in love with you in the moment when he saw that you sit right before him in history class. your (h/c) locks before him, and when you turned around to give him a pen -
𝐠 = 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞? 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨, 𝐡𝐨𝐰?)
he's the most gentle boy you have ever know. not the most pda-ish guy, but at home, in your room, he always gonna stroke your hair at night, or telling you how cute you were today in the t-shirt you bought recently.
𝐡 = 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬?)
as i told, stan would kiss you rather than hold your hands, but if you're inscure, or just need a fix point, you can always grab his hand and he would squeeze it, i promise you.
𝐢 = 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧?)
he met you at first in the library, to search for one books he needs for his tests. you sat there at the table, reading already "the hound of baskervilles", your hair lazily falling in your face, your knees propped up to the edge of the table.
-sorry, can i... can i sit here? -he faltered, grabbing tighter the books he found. you nodded, smiled a little bit.
-one flew over the cuckoo's nest? pretty good book -you commented, pointing with your pen on the title, than leaning back to your own work, leaving him flustered and lovely.
𝐣 = 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬?)
he don't get jealous easily, he trusts you, so please don't disappoint my little bean )):
besides, if he sees that you're close to richie or bill, stan always have an eye to see, whose hand are where.
you and the losers watched a movie at mike's, during the movie you and stan gave soft strokes on the hand or pinches on each other's thighs non-stop –you lied your head on stan's shoulder, bringing your knees close to your abdomen.
when the movie's over, stan guides you home, carrying your backpack, and at the doorstep, you walk in, whispering a little "wait" to him.
–i forgot something -you mutter, surprisingly pushing your lips to his, quieting his mind and savouring it with love and affection.
𝐥 = 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 '𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮' 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭?)
new saturday, new lazy day with stan.
the two of you met on the end of the street, from that point you two can easily go to the fluffy, green field near to the lake. you like these summer days –no school, no responsibilities, only the two of you, a pair of snadwiches from your lovely mom and a good book.
you hold stan's hand while walking to your usual place, the grass slightly appressed from the several days you spent here. when you sit down, you heard stan whisper something.
–did you say something, stan the man?
stan frowns, then shrugging his shoulders, grabbing your hands, kissing your forehead, his tender kiss tingling on the little curls near your temples too.
–i just wanted to say... that i love you. and thank you for being here for me, darling.
laying on your flat roof at night, staring at the starry, dark sky, in the summer. soft rock music playing in the background, your favourites... cuddling with him, giving you the warmth you need, but his hands cold enough to give you the perfect temperature.
–you like this? –he asked quietly, not letting know your parents that the two of you sneak out in 2 am. you snuggle up to his cheek, nuzzling your nose on the curve of his dimple; your eyelashes tickling his soft skin.
–i love it. and you?
–i love it, too –he mumbles, lifting your shoulders a little bit, so now you lay on his chest. –mainly because i am with you, babylove.
and you are freaking happy too –with him, every moment is blissful and dream-like, just like him.
he will do everything to reassure you that you're his love, his princess. you saw a missing piece from the comics you read? he'll slip it into your school-box. he always gonna buy you sweets and chocolate, sweet or salty popcorn or your favourite candy ─not only on your birthday, even when you feeling down or stressed. if stan collect enough courage, he will write little love letters to tuck it in your pocket during studying when you don't pay attention ─just to cause you a small, sweet suprise.
his old matchboxes (𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘹𝘴? 𝘪'𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘴𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘺)): ), little do you know, but when his mother scolds him to clean up his room a little bit, he find them in one old, dusty shoe-box. stan can play with them for hours, and at the end of the turn-out session you can be sure, that he sneaks a pair from them onto the shelf.
stan is very, very emphatic, he feels immediately if something's wrong or not so right. he would talk with you, give one shoulder to cry on it, kissing and stroking your hair and cheeks ─sometimes he thinks that he can't do nothing, but when you began to snoring calmly, snuggling to his side, he get's a little more satisfied for being a good boyfriend.
𝐭 = 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭?)
mostly about the future, about a better life, you two can involve into a very deep conversation. stan like it very much when you talk about the things you like, your goals, your ideals –to him, you're a very pleasureable person.
𝐮 = 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱?)
silence. a little bit of loneliness always helps him to purify his messy mind. if the two of you sit beside each other in silence, that's absolutely perfect for stan.
he's proud of your relationship: you two can talk about everything, and always help the other to find a solution, to figure out something to the actual problem.
𝐰 = 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐡𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞?)
in his mind, his plans are pretty simple: stan would make you the perfect day in your –going to your favourite town, eating delicious foods, making photos from the two of you (mostly you, but you can't bear the thought to stand alone in all of the pictures; that's so allegoric, isn't it?). then, when the two of you sit on the hood of the car, he gently sneaks his hand into his pocket, gently holding your ring-finger, getting ready with the big speech, waiting for your reaction when you feel the cold stain against your soft skin...
𝐱 = 𝐱𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠?)
tears for fears – everybody wants to rule the world
stan is not the fan of the animals with fur, he mostly want a little, cute bird, or even more of them –but not to cage those little feather-balls, you help him to build a bird feeder with pastell pink walls and heart-shaped entrance. if you want a cat or dog, he doesn't mind it, but don't let them hurt the birdies, please )):
a/n: i did another pick random character and prompts thing 🙃
It was Saturday again. And just like every Saturday, the losers were having a sleepover. This one was at your house. It was also the first one at your house, which put a lot of pressure on you. Because now you had to plan the whole thing.
Luckily for you, Beverly helped you. You had the whole night planned out. Now you were in your room, getting changed for the sleepover, when your door opened.
“You need some help with that?”
You turned around and saw Richie standing in your door frame, with smirk on his face. You immediately covered yourself up and glared at him.
“What the fuck? Get out!” you said as you chucked a pillow at his head.
“Yeesh, harsh much?” Richie said as he laughed and left the room.
You quickly finished getting changed and then headed down to your basement, where the rest of the losers were.
“S-so w-what do you g-guys w-want to do f-first?” Bill asked, taking charge, like always. You were a little relieved that you didn’t have to come up with everything.
“Truth or dare!” Richie shouted, eager to play the game, like always.
Everyone agreed and all eight of you got into a circle, and the game began. Seven turns, and seven stupid dares later, it was finally your turn.
“Stan,” you said as you turned to look at him,” truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he said.
“What?! Come on, truth is so boring!” Richie complained.
Eddie grabbed him with his elbow, telling him to shut up.
“Who do you have a crush on?” you asked him.
Stan’a face instantly went red, and he shock his head not wanting to answer.
“You have to answer, Stanford, it’s the rules,” Richie said.
“Come on! Just tell me!” you asked him.
“You,” he said, the blush on his face only darkening, “I like you.”
Richie laughed and shoved Stan. The game continued, but there was tension between you and Stan. Everyone could feel it. But no one acknowledged it. Then seven minutes in heaven was suggested, though you don’t exactly remember who did it.
Beverly found a bottle and placed it in the middle of the circle. After a few awkward rounds, it was your turn. You spun the bottle and it landed on Stanley. He blushed once more, and Richie shoved him towards the closet. You followed and walked inside, before Beverly locked you in.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Stan mumbled locking down.
Before he could say anything else, you leaned forward and kissed him. A few moments later, he kissed you back.
“What is this feeling?” Stan asked you as he pulled you away.
“Love,” you answered before you leaned forward and kissed him again.