#stan the man uris x reader

[silentstyx]

MORE STANLEY URIS OR I WILL EXPLODE 🙏🙏

seduction and stutters

sum: "One of your characters is very flirty and overtly sexual and the other is shy and bumbling and awkward."

very very suggestive guys. also reader is female.

tw: heheh sex jokes lolz (this was a richie impression pls laugh), also i mention abuse AS A JOKE but just a lil tw (no but srsly guys #savestanleyhedoesntdeservethis)

best. couple. ever.

im so serious. hottest couple in town. bowser was also rejected by you, the hottest girl in town.

you guys are so couple goals. someone has come up to you two at least once and said "you guys are my favorite couple by the wayyy"

no no if your very flirty and overtly sexual you're childhood friends with none other than than richie 'trashmouth' tozier.

oooh and stanley does not love that you guys are best friends.

cos when you and rich are together you tease stan, then he hugs you to hide away, then he gets teased more. its a horrible cycle of abuse.

#savestanleyhedoesntdeservethis

but when you guys are alone he's so sweet and quiet, you guys just cuddle mostly.

he layed like on top of your boobs once and like he wasn't even doing it for perverted reasons, solely to be closer to you and your face

he moved to lay his head on the tops of your boobs, though they were completely covered with a shirt you couldn't but snicker.

"if you wanna touch 'em all you have to do is ask baby?" you say with a smug smirk

he turns red. red i tell ya. he is redder than a stop sign. he moves his head back to your arm and you burst out laughing.

poor boy just wanted to kiss you, stop playing with his emotions like this you cruel cruel woman.

you're mostly never nice to him, and he's always nice to you.

it's always one joke after another.

one time he tried to snap back... never again.

"mm since when are you such a prude?" you pout at him.

he sighs, "why are you literally richie? i didn't want to date him. i wanted to date a pretty girl that was nice to me."

you smile and your eyebrows are raised. he groaned immediately, going face first into your neck.

you laugh in response, your smile growing wider, "no no sweet boy, come out of hiding. what were you saying? you're dating richie? and you want to break up with him? does he know about this? i think i'm gonna tell him you're planning to break up with him, and trust me. it won't be a pretty sight."

he sighs and presses a peck to your neck, cheek, and lips, before going right back to your neck and shutting up.

you're usually only nice when you want something, are jealous, or sleepy.

contrary to popular belief i think he likes when you're jealous. it reminds him that you want him and as long as you don't get crazy he kinda enjoys it.

cos you get all pda and loving and say nice things to him that you normally wouldn't do.

but when that happens he has more hickeys soo.. ya win some ya lose some i guess.

yeah you had to buy him a real good concealer cos you like to leave hickeys but he doesn't like people seeing them...

so you taught him how to color correct and to use orange and then the concealer. sometimes foundation if it's real bad.

he lets you doodle on him wherever though.

someone asks him about the doodle?

"hey i like the drawings on your arm and hand. that flower is really pretty!" the girl in front of him said as she turned around in her desk. she was whispering so the teacher wouldn't hear but she had a big flirty smile on her face.

he smiled real smug and scoffed, "thanks yeah, my girlfriend drew it. uh, you might know her, it's [insert readers name]" and then he flipped her off.

no, no. your sweet boy wouldn't do that. that's just what you wanted him to do and what he thought to do in his mind. here's how it actually happened.

he did the weird awkward smile but its really line with your lips and said, "thanks."

sigh.

he's usually oblivious to flirting but sometimes people make it real obvi. when he knows he's just giving out one word responses. when he doesn't know he's just giving out one word responses.

babe he's real awkward what do you expect?

you're the only girl he's been able to have a good conversation with besides his mother.

no but don't let him being awkward and shy fool you. he is SO sassy.

if you make fun of him he eye rolls you. let's not forget canonly he unironically puts his hands on his hips.

this boy is so sassy. but also very very sweet.

even when you mess with you're still sweet to him every day when you guys get tired.

you both usually take naps together when you hang out. he wraps his arms around your hips and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

anyways 9/10 boyfriend. -1 point because he's so sassy.

©️ silentstyx please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work with out my permission. thank you!

[lilhoeforevanpeters]

Haunted

"Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around"

Stanley Uris x GN!reader angst

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•·······

You put your car in park once you reached your destination. Your tragic destination. You grab the bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat beside you. Sitting in your car for a few minutes, you eventually get out, the cool Autumn air hitting you. You shrugged his jacket on you further, stuffing your hands in the pockets. It doesn't smell like him anymore.

There were many other grieving families there, grieving husbands and wives like you, however, it was eerily quiet, no one dared to even mutter a word. You locked the car, walking through the main gates of the dreaded place.

You stared at the gravel path as you walked mindlessly, not needing to look up for directions as you've been to the location so many times. Clutching the fresh flower bouquet in your hands as your heeled boots make a click-clack sound against the pavement.

You took a right, then a left, until you were finally in the shaded area where he was. Your heart felt heavy, as it had for weeks. You took a shaky breath before looking up.

You sat down on the slightly damp grass, not caring if you got your clothing wet. You looked at the headstone in front of you. The headstone of your husband. Your now dead husband.

You set the flowers in your hand down next to the gravestone. "Stanley Uris, July 13 1976- September 5 2016". You looked at it briefly before looking down at the grass you were sitting on. The cold air blew through your hair that was up in a low ponytail, and you tugged on the jacket that was one your husband's further onto your body.

Pressing your lips together in a tight line, eyes watering as you looked up for a split second before letting out a breath, tears falling down your cheeks and onto the ground in front of you. Your gaze falls back down to the headstone. "Loving son and husband".

"Asshole."

One simple word. A word that held a lot of anger and was typically for people who you hate- but you didn't hate Stanley. You couldn't. He is was your husband. But despite still feeling the love you had for him, you couldn't help but feel angry. Not angry- livid. Livid at the world, at the entire town of Derry, at that fucking clown that terrorized him, at yourself for not going up to check on him sooner, at your husband for killing himself.

It wasn't fair. The entire situation wasn't- it wasn't fair that you were angry at him, or that you were now alone, desperately holding onto the small pieces of him that you had left. It wasn't fair how your home that once brought joy and comfort brings nothing but despair and pain. It wasn't fair that the stupid clown scared him so much and he felt like he had no other choice.

You felt empty, like everything had been stripped from you. It had been. You lost the one person you thought you'd never lose. Your best friend. Your husband. Your Stan.

"You left me. And I hate you for it. I hate you. I hate you for leaving me alone, I hate you for not thinking there was a better option. I hate that I still love you. I hate that I expect you to be there at the table every night after I come home from work, doing your stupid puzzles."

Tears streamed down your face as you spoke bitterly to the tomb. Using the sleeve of his jacket, you wiped away the tears, but they were only replaced with new ones. You hated it all. How your bed felt cold and empty. Or how you still expected him to be there. Memories of what once was haunted your house. They haunted your mind.

You glared at the headstone, as if expecting Stan to respond, to tell he was sorry, and he'd be coming home soon. But you knew that wouldn't happen. It was impossible. His body was in the ground, he'd been gone for three months. You couldn't bring him back; no one could.

You wanted your husband back. Your best friend. He was your everything, and now he was gone. You looked away from the dumb piece of stone that really didn't mean anything, yet meant so much to you.

If Stan had died in a car accident, or something else, maybe you'd be able to cope better. It would be hard- maybe as hard as it was now for you, but you couldn't help but feel that this storyline hurt more. It hurt so much, and the impact it left on you was huge.

That night would stick forever in your mind. How could it not? He was so obviously upset over the phone call- but you brushed it off. And you would blame yourself for that for eternity. You didn't think anything of him taking the bath until he wasn't answering and he'd been in there for half an hour. You felt sick when thinking of it. You had knocked on the door, asking if he was okay, but when there was no answer you went in.

Your husband laid dead in the bathtub, his wrists slit, the word "It" written in his own blood. You let out a scream and rushed over to him, pulling him out of the water and holding him in your arms as you cried and called 911. He was declared dead on the scene.

His lifeless face was burned into your mind. When you close your eyes. When you try to sleep. Everywhere you look- his lifeless face is there. That scene is there. His bloody wrists. How you tried to save him, knowing it was hopeless. The door to the now clean bathroom has been closed from the moment he was declared dead. You couldn't go in there. Hell, you could barely go in your bedroom where you two slept every night.

With tears rolling down your cheeks, you close your eyes and pressed a hand to the ground, grasping at the grass lightly where you knew his body was- six feet under, in a casket. You felt pathetic and broken, but you couldn't help it, you had lost your everything. You just wanted him to hold you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay like he normally would've. However, the only thing you got was the cold wind hitting your back, no warm embrace from your now dead husband.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm so, so sorry. I should've gone up sooner. I should've pressed you harder to talk about it. I shouldn't have let you go upstairs."

You blamed the world and that fucking clown, but mostly, you blamed yourself. Deep down you knew you shouldn't. Deep down you knew he wouldn't want you that.

"I love you. And I always will."

You whispered the words to the tombstone, knowing it was foolish to believe he could hear you, but if he did, if there was a chance he could hear what you were saying, then you wanted him to know that you loved him.

So you sat at the grave for three hours, as you did every weekend since the day he was buried. You didn't speak anymore, instead pressing your forehead against the headstone and closing your eyes, his jacket wrapped around your body. This was the closest you had to him now. And you would take whatever you could.

When the air grew colder and crisper, hours later, you got back into the car, sighing lightly and drove home in silence. Driving up to your house, you parked in the driveway as the feeling of heartache crept over you once more.

You walked into the house you once lived in with your beloved husband, memories of all the times you spent with him there still living rent-free in your mind. Sliding your shoes off, you crept up the stairs, avoiding the pictures on the wall on the way up of him smiling at the camera while holding you, or him as a kid. The bathroom door was still closed, and it would remain that way for possibly many more months, and you averted your eyes- even looking at the door made you sick to your stomach. You walked into the bedroom you once slept in peacefully with Stan, not bothering to take your jeans or his jacket off as you crawled into the bed and laid there underneath the comforter, closing your eyes, but not sleeping, as you did every weekend since he died.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can't help the hot tears that trail down your face as the feeling of hopelessness crept up on you, swallowing you whole like a black hole.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•·······

[cherriesfromeden]

stan with a reader who can't spell

...

[style : headcanons]

[requested : yes]

[pairing : stan uris x fem!reader]

...

aww look it's grammarly x might as well be dyslexic

jkjk

unless

okay so i'm gonna just say you guys met cause you were paired up for a group project and he sees you write something and he's just like

tf does that say

he probably thinks it's a different language at first so he doesn't question it 😭

but then he's like

'oh we should write this'

so you go to write it down and he glances at it and does a double take

'what...what is that'

'oh um, what you said'

poor boy he rlly is whipped for you but his inner english teacher is sobbing

'uhh...how about you present it and i can write it?'

you agree cause you don't like writing and prefer to present

wait this is becoming extrovert gf x introvert bf-

anyways

so after you present the project you guys get an A

and then you guys just keep talking in class

you start doing this thing where you explain the topic when stan doesn't get it and he writes notes for you

also richie is in the class cause i say so

HAHA HE HAS A FIELD DAY WITH THIS

'so stan the man i see that you and-'

'shut up'

'i didn't even fini-'

'i said shut up'

i'm gonna skip ahead a little to after you meet the other losers and start dating

he leaves you little notes

like if you forgot your book at school he'll drop it off on your doorstep with a note <3

stan makes fun of you CONSTANTLY

like you'll write your name and he's like

'wow you spelled it right this time!!'

but if someone else richie makes fun of you he's like

'at least she gets dates besides eddie's mom'

srry eddie

richie learned his lesson

basically it's just team work with you guys

[bagerfluff]

Love In Books And Boredom

Stanley Uris x Male Reader

Prompt - Bookstore Au

Y/n sighed as he leaned on the counter. This was boring. Why couldn’t he go and restock shelves. Instead he was here, staring at the door, waiting for his shift to be over. Why did he get a job at a bookstore? This was boring. There was nothing to do and for being a bookstore people got mad a lot. It was weird how many people came in here angry. Y/n guesses that’s why they come here.

To calm down. But they normally just yelled at someone, and then they yelled at Y/n. Plus, there was nothing to do. You could clean but it was impossible to do that with people in the store. You could restock shelves, but that was difficult with people. But Y/n would take that over standing here doing nothing. 

Y/n was snapped out of his thoughts when the bell above the door rang. Y/n glanced up to see how was entering when a blush rose to his cheeks. It was a young man who entered. Not that older than Y/n. He had dirty blonde hair that was curly and hazel eyes. Y/n thought he was pretty. He came in about twice a week. Sometimes to get a new book and sometimes to return one.

Y/n found the blonde boy cute. Y/n always made a point of talking to him. Y/n hoped that one day he could ask him out. At first, he was shy and reserved. But the more Y/n talked to him, the more comfortable he got. It took him two weeks for Stan to tell Y/n that his name was Stan. 

Y/n found the Stan made his work hours go by faster. He made the day less boring. Y/n then found himself having a crush on the bird boy. Soon Y/n wanted to ask Stan out on a date. But he always chickened out. Y/n wondered if today was the day he could ask Stan out. “Hey bird boy” Y/n called out as he walked over to Stan.

Bird boy was Stan’s nickname. Y/n started calling him that when they first met. Y/n had found Stan buying a book about birds. And Stan had always loved talking about birds. “Hey Y/n” Stan said when Y/n was in front of him. “What book are you looking for?” Y/n asked as he walked with Stan.

“Nothing in particular. But aren’t you supposed to be at the front desk?” Stan asked as he picked a book up off the shelf and read the back. “It is also my job to help customers,” Y/n pointed out. “But I don’t need help”

Stan shot back after he put the book back. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you” Y/n started with a smile. Stan blushed at that and tried to hide it behind a book. But that didn’t work. “Are you blushing?” Y/n laughed as he walked closer to Stan.

Y/n pushed the book down with his finger to get a closer look at Stan’s face. “You look cute why he blush” Y/n said with a sly smile. Y/n was going to say something else but the bell on the front desk rang. “See you later cutie” Y/n said before walking over to the desk. Leaving a red and confused Stan behind.

A couple minutes later Stan walked up to the front desk with his chosen book. “Found what you were looking for?” Y/n asked as he scanned the book. “Yes’ Stan said as he grabbed his library card from his pocket and handed it to Y/n.

The boys didn’t say anything else except when Y/n said bye to Stan when Stan left the library. But when Stan got home and opened the book, he saw a folded piece of paper under the cover. Stan picked it up, unfolded it, and read it.

♥️Call me bird boy.♥️

It read with a number under it. Stan smiled as he realized who the paper was from. And back at the library Y/n guessed that being at the front desk wasn’t so boring. 

[yourlocaltheaterkid012]

I love them all but my absolute favorite is Richie cause who doesn’t love him . I’m also asking this cause this summer I’m planning to make an IT x reader on my Quotev account and I don’t know who to make it for . I’m thinking I don’t see a lot of Stan or Eddie. And the only ones I do find Y/N is related to one of the losers. If you read IT x readers and find a good on Please send me the link.

[tsuchann]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

────── ♡

navigation | send a request!

────── ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎''𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬; 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒

────── ♡

notes: not really a songfic but i did write this while listening to “you are in love” by taylor swift

────── ♡

it happened gradually, happened without you even noticing. so slow you didn’t realize (as most things do) until your thoughts wandered to him any time you listened to a love song, or until your mind was too focused on sweet words he said to you that day instead of sleep, or until you were staring into his pretty doe eyes for a moment too long, counting the colors.

you can’t quite remember when it started- maybe when he complimented your dancing during the 6th grade dance even though you stepped on his foot a gazillion times (and you had heels on), or when he held you as you cried a week straight after your pet hamster died with no complaints, or hell maybe it was on the very elementary playground you met.

you’re not sure why either. maybe it was because he never failed to catch you when you tripped over air (even if he had to sprint from a couple feet away), or maybe because he always held your hand anytime you saw him, or maybe it was because he was just so undeniably stanley.

and you couldn’t get enough.

you can, however, pinpoint the exact moment you realized- it was too memorable to forget and you were sure you would be able to pass the story off for bedtime when you and stanley eventually have kids like you both knew you wanted (though you weren’t sure if you’d want them with anyone else).

it was saturday night- of course it was, the losers were cooped up in bill's basement, a random horror movie playing on the tv while the rest of your friends began to doze off.

richie and eddie wrapped in a cocoon blanket on the floor, mike on the armchair, and bill, bev, and ben squeezed on the couch. you and stan take the loveseat (as always)- your body on top of stanley's own, arms tangled, and legs hanging slightly off the loveseat's arm.

he was still awake, as far as you could tell. either that or he was humming in his sleep. his fingers were tangled in your hair, braiding it maybe, or just toying with it. your face in the nook where his neck and shoulder dove to meet as you played with the fingers on his other hand absentmindedly.

he shifted a bit, and let go of your hand to place his keys on the table and out of his pocket so it would stop poking his leg. but, his finger hit the corner of the table as he went to hold your hand again, and he hisses out a quiet “fuck.”

you let out a tired giggle, all you could muster in your sleepy state. “language.”

you could almost feel stan roll his eyes, his pretty eyes.

“didn't know you were awake, angel.” he mumbles, trying to play it off, but you can hear the smile in his voice. god, those damn pet names that make your stomach flutter.

you shift to rest your chin on the palms of your hands, elbows trapping stan's torso between them, so you can look up at him just to find him smiling fondly down at you. you don't say anything, just stare at him, admiring him with a dopey smile.

that's when it hits you, you think, as your eyes land on his lips. friends don't want to push their lips against each other's until they need to come up for air again. friends don't wonder how good their lips would feel against your neck. friends don't think about each other like that.

his smile widens, cheeks flushing a little as you unconsciously reach out and grab his hand again, interlocking your fingers. “you look sleepy, babylove.”

babylove.

you gulp, smiling weakly when all you wanna do is tell this boy how infatuated you really are with him. “just nearly there, love.” you offer, pet names slipping out so naturally and you realize you barely call each other by your names anymore.

it happens gradually, you think, but it doesn't seem like it. it seems like it hits you like a train, so fast, faster than your heart beating when he smiles.

he hums contently, carding his fingers in your hair. god, this boy, this boy. you were whipped.

“you're my best friend, y/n.” he says, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

you smile back, but you don't meet his eyes. just a best friend. “you're mine, too, stannie.” you reply meekly.

regardless, you drift off to sleep comfortably in his safe arms.

“i love you.” you said once, nervous even though you had said it before. but, that was before you realized the real intensity of your love for stan.

stan grinned blindingly down at you, standing tall over you still in his baseball jersey, sticky with sweat, curls sticking to his forehead, and eyes bright after winning his game. “i know, angel. i love you, too!”

he pulled you closer by your waist, leaving his hands to rest at the curve on your back, pressing your chests impossibly closer.

“yeah.. but,” you averted your eyes, making his eyebrows knit in confusion. “i love you... but,” you but your lip, finally meeting his eyes again as his stared down questioningly.

“but?” he prodded in that voice you loved so much- you loved everything about him so so much.

your voice was quiet, “more than.. just a friend.”

his eyes widened, you could see it, and you prepared yourself for a rejection, but before you could even say anything, he was pushing his lips on yours.

cheers erupted from around you and whoops of “stan the man's getting some!”- right, you were at a party with all of stan's teammates and more-but you couldn't find it in you to care as he locked your fingers and smiled into your first kiss.

it happens so slow, so fast- you shrugged, only took you 8 years.

god, you were so in love.

[marvelslut16]

The sketchbook

Prompt number: 27 “give me that”

Fandom: IT

Paring: Stanley Uris x reader (aged up to juniors in high school)

Rating: T

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Bullying. Swearing I think. Mentions of a boner. The use of the word flamer. 

A/N: It’s a short one today boys and ghouls. I wasn’t super motivated and energetic during the day and SNL started tonight, so priorities lmao. Anywho, enjoy day three of fictober. Also it’s spooky season so my brain is stuck on IT.

You had been encouraging Stan to become an artist since the start of freshman year when he finally worked up the nerve to show you his sketches of the birds he watched for hours on end. Each drawing was done with so much love and care, the thickness of each pencil stroke clearly thought out beforehand, and the birds looked so real they would fly off the page if you left the book open long enough. Stan never believed your praises, claiming you had to say it because you’re his best friend, and said that being an artist wasn’t a suitable and reliable career. So he never took art as an elective, always accounting. 

Now almost done with your junior year of high school Stan always seems to be sketching in his book, running out of pages in a mere month. One day in english class you peer over his shoulder and see the most realistic drawing of an eye you have ever seen. Just looking at it you can tell that the imaginary person the eye belongs to is laughing, there’s an unmistakable sparkle to it and the eye scrunches slightly. 

Noticing that the pages are running low, and knowing that his dad won’t buy him another sketchbook anytime soon, you take your saved up allowance to buy Stan the thickest and best sketchbook the art store has to offer. Bev teases you relentlessly for being so obvious about your feelings, and the boys tease Stan for blushing when you give him the present. The losers were always trying to see what Stan is sketching, upset that you’re the only one he shows, but he doesn’t even show you over half of the drawings he’s done.

He leaves his sketchbook closed and off to the side at lunch, usually helping you with last night's math homework while the losers eat. Usually nobody touches said book, but today Richie is feeling particularly troublesome. The boy with the glasses is giddy because he and Eddie finally kissed and they're going out on their first date tonight, so the trashmouth shows his happiness by being invasive with everyone else. The boy had already ruffled through your backpack earlier in the day and stole a smoke from Bev. Richie’s long fingers wrap around the book, neither you nor Stan notice until the book is being pressed firmly to Richie’s chest and away from your grasp. 

“Where’s my book?” Stan asks a few minutes later, pushing the math homework and lunch trays roughly. 

“Oh you mean this?” Richie smirks, confidently holding the sketchbook up between his thumb and index finger.

“Give it back to him Richie,” you roll your eyes, you know that even in his mood Richie won’t actually flip through the book. Luckily for every loser, Richie had learned which lines not to cross over the years. 

“Or I could just take it,” Henry’s victorious laugh seems to reverberate off the walls of the lunchroom as he grabs the sketchbook from Richie’s fingers. Richie looks panicked and like he’s about to vomit at the turn of events, beside him Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust at all of the germs being collected on the leather-bound book. 

“Give me that back,” Stan’s voice goes up in active, quickly standing from his seat. His attempts at reaching for the sketchbook are futile, Bowers only backing away further or raising his arms up and out of Stan’s reach.

“It looks like Uris here isn’t a flamer after all,” Bowers laughs, his friends joining in, as he flips through the pages filled with Stan’s beautiful artwork. “He’s got a creepy little crush on (Y/L/N), I bet he gets a boner drawing these!”

“Give him the book back Henry,” your voice is hard and annoyed. You don’t let his taunts get to you, there was no way Stan was actually drawing you. 

“Look at this one!” Bowers ignores you as he laughs louder, pointing out a picture to his friends. “(Y/L/N) you look good in a swimsuit.” 

Before you can respond, Stan launches himself at Henry, successfully grabbing the sketchbook and tearing it from the bully’s grip. Luckily none of the pages ripped, each drawing still in perfect condition. You try to get Stan to meet your eyes, you want to know if he really was drawing you, but he refused to meet your gaze as he packed up his bag. Stan doesn’t say a word to anyone, instead he slings his bag over one shoulder and quickly leaves the cafeteria. Bowers and his friends are laughing in delight, you’re too focused on the boy in his khakis, baby blue button up shirt, and his mop of curls receding figure to yell at Henry. 

“Bail me out of detention,” you look Richie in the eye as you say this, knowing he’s the only one with the skills to get you out of there. You quickly stand from your own seat and grab your bag, following Stan into the boys bathroom you just watched him disappear into. 

You hear quiet sniffles when you push the door to the bathroom, said sniffles stop once the door creaks and alerts Stan that someone entered. He’s hiding in one of the stalls, his shiny brown shoes peeking out from under the stall door give him away. 

“Stan please talk to me,” you stick out a hand to push on the stall door, but it's locked and doesn't budge. You let out a little sigh, turning and locking the door to the bathroom before heading back to stand in front of his stall. “I’ll stay in here all day if I have to, please talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” there’s a shaking in his voice that surprises you.

“Stan, baby, what are you sorry for?” you don’t notice your slip up, letting out the pet name you wish you could call him Stan unlocks the stall door, eyes wide and slightly watery as he stares at you. 

Instead of responding Stan hands you the sketchbook, letting you see every drawing for the first time. Bowers wasn’t kidding, the book is filled with drawings of you. You midlaugh, you lounging in the hammock with your showercap on, you in your swimsuit at the quarry, you looking up from a textbook when you study with him. You’re taken aback by how beautiful he’s managed to make you look, causing you to wonder if this is how he sees you. 

“Babyboy, these are beautiful,” you breathe after a few tense moments. You finally tear your eyes away from the drawings and are greeted by his bright red cheeks. “What?”

“You need to stop doing that,” he murmurs quietly, looking down at the yellowing tiles beneath his loafers 

“Doing what?” you’re head tilts to the side, you replay everything you’ve said that could make him uncomfortable. 

“Calling me baby and babyboy,” he chances a quick glance at you, before once again avoiding your gaze.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you rush out. “I didn't realize I was saying that! And the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable! I’m so sorry Stan-” 

“I never said you made me uncomfortable,”  courage surges through him as he takes a step closer to you and finally meets your eyes. “I like you (Y/N), if you couldn’t already tell, and I can’t listen to you call me that knowing you’ll never do it again. And I want you to do it again-”

“I like you too, Stan,” you lean in for a quick kiss to cut off his rambling, running your hands through his curls as you pull back. “My babyboy.”

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[its-satans-bff]

*taps mic* you can hear me? okay good. MIKE HANLON DESERVES THE WORLD AND THE AMOUNT OF SCREEN TIME HE WAS GIVEN IS UNFAIR. that is all, thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[heytherejulietx]

i was meant to be finishing that richie fic i’ve been working on for like a thousand years but now i wanna write for stan and i don’t even have an idea 😩

[readbyred]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧|| Watching horrors together

I know I don't have a consistent title for this miniseries but shhh

Stan:

Don't. Seriously, don't watch those. You'd think he would completely trash the movie and be a sarcastic little shit? Well, surprise surprise! Your noodle-headed bf will sit through the whole thing silently and then it's your problem. Unless it's some silly shit the boy's gonna overthink it and even if it's not real he's going to be hella affected by it. The more illogical the thing is the scarier. And I'm pretty sure he would literally shit himself if you made him watch Birds.

[thatwriterkei]

Babe, I love your writing so much oml💕 could I get a HC of soft boy Stan dating a musical reader?? They play piano and ukulele + they sing but are a bit shy about it. It’s just me, I live vicariously through these tbh

Oh my goodness tysm 💖💖💖 literally same tho honestly lol

So when Stan finds out you're like super talented with instruments and singing

He's like freaking out inside

Because there you are on the streets

With a ukelele

And just singing your heart out to

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana

And he just stares at you for the longest time

You have such a beautiful voice

And the fact that you can play while singing

AND you look good doing it

Like those shorts

If you guys were already dating by that time

He would've approached you after you finished

You would be flustered

Just surprised to see him there

And he's continuously praising you

"why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

And then, "you're so talented, y/n/n!"

"now you're going to give me special attention because you're so cute."

Next time

The two of you are in his room

He's slightly in awe because

You've never shown him your room

It's just some instruments scattered in the corner of your room

Because you haven't had the money to properly place them on your wall and such

He's begging you to sing for him

You give in eventually because

Well, because he's Stan!

So you're playing a short tune on your piano

And surprisingly it isn't Nirvana

It's just a short melody of you humming

"Gosh, you're just amazing at everything baby.."

Stan would just be the most supportive, adorable bean in the entire world

________________

Stanley Uris tags: @that-one-eggo-child @murdermornings @fucking-greywater @har-rison-s @peachy-wolfhard @soulwillower @just-jordie-things @just-alysssa @seamlessly-dreaming @jenna-aa @beauregard-s @stenbrozier

[bagerfluff]

Here

Stanley Uris x Male Reader

Prompt - "I'm glad your here"

Stan looked down at his hand. There was a bandage wrapped around his palm. There was a little dried blood on it. Stan didn’t feel good after promising Bill that he would come back if ‘it’ did. Stan could barely handle it. It scared Stan.

There wasn’t a logical explanation for whatever ‘it’ was. It scared Stan, it almost killed Stan. Stan looked up as he felt someone walk next to him. Stan looked to his left and saw Y/n standing next to him. Stan liked Y/n. Y/n was a good friend. Y/n was the first to find Stan in the sewers. Y/n always goes bird watching with Stan.

Y/n always cared for Stan. Stan loved Y/n for that. He loved Y/n. Stan knew it was wrong. A man shouldn’t love another man. But Stan couldn’t stop himself. Y/n looked beautiful and Stan loved his personality. Stan was glad that Y/n was with him. “I’m glad you’re here, Y/n”

Stan said as he looked at Y/n in the eyes, who was already looking at him. “I’m glad you’re here too Stan” Y/n said with a smile as he grabbed Stan’s hand and looked away. Stan smiled as he gripped Y/n’s hand as tight as he could and looked forward. Stan was scared. He was scared of what would happen if ‘it’ returned.

But he had Y/n. So he could deal with it. 

[reddieisthesuperiorship]

Andy Muschietti: I love all of the losers equally.

We got Big Bill, Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak,Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Stanley Uris, and *looks at smugded writing on hand* Microphone Halloran

[baby-impalas]

star gazing | stanley uris

warnings: I wrote this all at once at 3 a.m. and have not edited it, you’ve been warned, mentions of drinking, deep shit™, this is short

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

saturday night. you’re at a party at bill’s house with all your friends and half your grade. richie (and eddie by force) are doing karaoke in his basement, ben and bev are playing a drinking game while sitting on the kitchen island, bill and mike are arguing over some classic lit novel from english class, and you and stanley are sat on the porch out back watching the stars. stan’s never really been one for getting shitfaced, which makes him the perfect dd, and you feel bad for leaving him out, so you’re sober too. 

you’re pointing out different made up constellations to each other. so far, you’ve found groups of stars that look like a fish, a house, and (upon stan’s insistency) the moon. it’s quiet and mind-numbing compared to the shit show going on inside, but it’s a nice break from the stressful week of finals you’ve had. you’d forgotten the end of high school meant test after pointless test. you’re just a number to the system, really. richie loves pointing that out. 

“do you think we’ll still be friends?” stan asks suddenly. you turn your head to him, but he continues to stare at the sky. “after school.” 

you think for a moment. this isn’t the first time he’s asked this. he asked once before at the quarry in eighth grade, seemingly concerned even then that your too-good-to-be-true-bond would be ripped from you all the moment high school ended. 

you don’t blame him for being worried. being surrounded constantly by a group of people you know have your back for anything... it’s enlightening, almost a high of some sort. nothing feels as good as deliriously laughing at richie’s british accent at 3 a.m. when the rest of the world is asleep and your smiles are etched into the night. 

so yeah, you understand why he doesn’t wanna let it go. 

“if we want to be,” you say finally. he turns his head to you now, his fingers twirling around each other on his stomach as he asks, “how do you figure?” 

“well i think if we wanna stay friends badly enough, we can. my mom is still friends with some people she knew from high school, and i’ll bet my savings they didn’t have anything close to what we have.” you reach your arm out to him and he takes your hand in his own. 

with your fingers intertwined between the two of you, you realize how close you are to him. stan is mere inches from you as you watch each other, his eyes twinkling as they scan your face. the moonlight is spilling over him like water from a broken glass, and you realize kinda for the first time that stan’s beautiful-

“you’re ethereal,” stan says suddenly. you’re taken back for a moment, blinking in surprise. you smile because that kinda made your heart swoon. 

“thanks, stan,” you say, squeezing his hand. “right back at ya.”

he opens his mouth and looks as though he’s about to say something else, but shuts it again. then he’s leaning over and kissing you. it’s a quick, timid kiss, like one you might receive in kindergarten, and he pulls back almost immediately to see your reaction. 

you just gape at him because stanley uris just kissed you?? the sweet kid who likes to watch the birds and offers to braid your hair. kissed you. 

“i'm sorry,” stan starts. “i didn’t mean-” 

you cut him off with another kiss, this one more intimate and intent driven. he’s responsive quick, and one of his hands flies to the back of your neck, the other still holding your own by your sides. 

stan’s a better kisser than you’d imagined. he seems to know what he’s doing and he tastes like mint. his lips are slightly chapped meshing against your soft ones, and your stomach is doing flips as his fingers tangle in your hair. 

when you pull back you’re both breathing a little heavily, and stan has a single curly strand of hair drooping in front of his face that you brush behind his ear with a gentle swoop of your hand. he smiles down at you, then, and you smile back, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks and neck because no one has ever looked at you the way stan’s looking at you right now. 

like you hung the stars just for him. 

then bill’s opening his glass door that leads into the house and saying, “y/n, stan, good, will you please tell mike that gene and finny from a separate peace are gay for each other.” 

mike stumbles up behind bill then, nearly knocking him over. “that’s just one lens to look at it through,” he says insistently. bill rolls his eyes. 

“sexuality isn’t a lens-” 

stan kisses you again suddenly, and you know why. you have the same feeling he does. this isn’t a kiss between you and him. it’s a kiss for the bond you all have, the love you share for one another. this special moment that really isn’t that special at all. in two years you probably won’t remember this specific party on this specific saturday night, but right now it’s happening and you think maybe, just maybe, if you kiss long enough the moment can be frozen forever between your lips. 

stan doesn’t need to ask anymore whether you’ll be friends forever because even if you aren’t you had this. you had special, intimate moments together, and a bond that couldn’t be broken with the force of the sun, let alone growing up. and maybe forever doesn’t matter so much when now is enough to take your breath away. 

and stan, looking down at you with a twinkle in his eyes and a loving smile that you know means this is more than tonight, well, that’s something you won’t ever forget. 

[zodiyack]

Stay

Pairing: Stanley Uris x reader

Warnings: Suicide attempt, suicide mention, stuff to do with suicide, swearing, short story, Spoliers, Stan doesn’t die, slight angst

masterlist

Y/n saw Stand’s eyes and shaky hands when he answered the phone. She knew of his friend Bill and she knew of Bill’s stories...and their horrible endings. Anyways, he kept calm and when he ended the call, then looked over to Y/n. She was already halfway over to him with the look.

“Who was that?”

“No one, it’s okay.” She knew when he was lying. No one could lie to Y/n.

“Stan. I love you, but seriously. Who was that?”

“It was...an old friend. Mike.” Her being able to see that he was lying also came with her being able to get him to tell her what he was lying about. Pretty handy if she ever wanted to be a mom.

“What did he want?”

“For me-” He inhaled. Stan often did this when he was caught lying by his wife. She grabbed his hands and rubbed her thumb against his skin softly. “For me to go back to Derry.” She pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back softly. He spoke little about Derry, but he had stated that he never wished to return.

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can stay here with me.” Y/n rested her head on Stan’s shoulder.

“I can think about it, my love. Do you mind if I take a bath before dinner? I’m not feeling too well.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows but nodded. She didn’t know what Stan was planning, but she knew that the man didn’t take bathes too frequently. This was what she dubbed, “suspicious”. The mental note of sneaking in on him was made right away.

He got up from his puzzle and walked over to Y/n, who was putting some of the dishes away. Stan waited for her to be finished, then connecting their lips with a small chuckle. He said he’d see her after his bath and left for the bathroom.

She cooked dinner until she heard the water start poring in. The signal for her to start making her way over. She opened the door slightly. In the tub sat Stanley with a razor blade. He didn’t cut himself yet, but he was damn close to. His wife darted over to him and knocked the blade from his hands.

“WHAT’RE YOU!? FUCKING CRAZY?!” Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wide and darting around, trying ever so hard to find the ones that she loves. “YOU...you...you would’ve left me alone...” Behind his tough and badass wife was a shy and cautious girl. A girl who disliked being without another and afraid. A girl who couldn’t live without her husband.

“I’m so sorry...”

Sure, he was naked, but it didn’t matter. His wife had picked up the blade and tossed it out of the tub, clinging to her husband’s hands. One of which, came up and caressed her cheek. Their eyes met with love and adoration.

“Please...please don’t leave me here. Just stay with me. We can call your friends and say that you died, anything, just please! Please don’t do this to me!”

“We made a pact when we were younger...”

“So!? You were just about to off yourself so you wouldn’t have to go, please just stay here with me!” Her sobs broke his heart. He hated seeing his wife hurt, just as much as it hurt her seeing him the same way.

“Fine...promise you’ll make up something?”

“Stanley Uris. I promise...just as long as you promise you’ll stay.”

“I promise.”

“I love you, Stan...”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

. . .

“Hello? Mrs. Uris, I’m Beverly Marsh, I’m an old friend of Stanley’s. Is he okay?”

He was. He was sitting next to his wife with an anxious look on his face. “No... he has unfortunately passed.” Stan gave his wife a thumbs up. She sounded so sad and distressed, it was perfect. “Yeah... he... the bath... Oh god...”

She finished her call with Beverly. Of course they felt bad about lying, but if they had told the truth, Stanley would never be able to stay with Y/n. Would the clown know? Probably? Maybe? It didn’t matter to the two because it wasn’t the present. It was the future and something that could be thought about when it was considered the present.

Stanley hugged his wife, rubbing her arm in reassurance. “Stanley?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really glad you chose to stay.”

“Me too.”

[marvelslut16]

I Promise

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Bowers!Reader (young) 

Request/synopsis: “Hi! If you’re still writing Stanley Uris, could you write a little childhood piece taking place during the first movie where the reader is one of the bullies’ little sister and hates what her brother and his friends are doing to the losers and starts to hanging out with them and the boys make fun of Stan because it’s obvious that he likes her and one day they’re walking and end up on the kissing bridge and he just starts rambling to her about something he saw and she interrupts him by kissing him”

Word count: 4,390 I think I got carried away

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of attempted murder? Use of the term flamer, it means flamboyant gay, Stan is called that by Patrick in the books. Mentions a lewd act that happens in the book as well. Violence from a brother. Bullying. Some angst? Pennywise, that should definitely be a warning lmao.  Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Sort of mentions character death.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted, I tried to do this request justice (since it was my first! Thank you to the anon that asked for it!) but I definitely took it on an angsty ride lol. I definitely focused more on Henry and the time in the sewers than I originally planned.  Sorry this took so long as well, I wasn’t sure how to fit all of my ideas together. I really like how this turned out, but it’s also like two in the morning so there could be typos. 

Do you like being Henry's little sister? Of course not. Siblings or not, Henry treats you like shit too, at least he has the decency to keep it behind closed doors. On top of that, everyone avoids you, expecting you to be just like your brother or Greta. Greta is relatively nice to you, or as nice as demon spawn can be, she never makes fun of you or bullies you, she even tries to include you in her shit. Thinking, like everyone, that Henry actually likes you; and this way she can make a good impression and he can finally ask her out. 

You walk out of the front doors of the school on the last day to see your lovely brother and his idiot friends teasing Stan and his group of friends, stealing the curly-haired boys kippah. Richie, being his typical self, starts screaming and insulting Henry, making him angrier. Henry takes said anger out on Stan, pushing him to the ground and pulling his leg back to kick the smaller boy in the side. 

“Hey!” you scream and rush over to the scene, before you can realize what you're doing. 

“Come to defend your boyfriend?” your brother sneers before laughing like a lunatic. 

“Back off Henry,” you glare at him, stepping between him and Stan. You can hear the poor boy behind you struggling to stand up.

“Or what?” Henry leans in, face inches from yours. He has never made his dislike for you public, even his friends are shocked by his actions. “You gonna run home and tell Dad?”

“Tempting,” you push him away from your face, mindful that your father is on duty somewhere in the ocean of students. As he’s distracted by the shove, you yank the kippah free from his grasp. “You want them, you go through me.”

“That can be arranged,” he grits his teeth, gesturing for his friends to grab you. 

They look shocked for a second, before Belch wraps his large arms around your middle to hold you back. Your brother smirks at you as he advances on Stan, preparing to punch him. Your pleas for him to stop advancing on the loser’s, as they’re dubbed, fall on deaf ears. 

“Let go of me you creep!” you yell at Belch, before slamming your foot down on his. He lets go of you before bouncing around in pain, like a stupid cartoon character. You run between Henry and the Losers, but not before he can shove Richie to the ground. “Go home Henry,” you shove his chest again. 

“You can’t make me,” he flips open his switchblade as he advances on you. The rest of the world seems to still and all you can think is will Henry really hurt you? You hear the muffled cries from the boys behind you get louder with each step your brother takes towards you.

“What’s going on here?” your dad's voice cuts through the haze, Henry backs off and hides his knife before Dad can see. 

“I was just offering her a ride home,” Henry scowls as he turns to your father.

“And I was telling him that I was going to go hang out with my friends,” you use your thumb to point at the boys behind you. Your Dad eyes them wearily before ultimately coming to the conclusion that they’re a harmless group of nerds. He nods at you and sends Henry a small glare that if you blink you’ll miss before heading back the way he came. 

“Watch yourself,” Henry warns before making his way to Belch’s car, friends in tow. You let out a sigh as they drive away, shoulders slumping as your adrenaline wears off.

“I think this belongs to you,” you smile at Stan, handing him his kippah.

“Thanks,” he breathes, he looks like he wants to continue speaking but no words come out. As he grabs the kippah from you, his fingers brush against yours and a blush creeps up his cheeks. You grin at how adorable he is. 

“Are you guys okay?” you glance between him and Richie. Stan just nods and Richie rolls his eyes at the doe eyed look his friend is giving you. 

“I’d say we didn’t need your help, but Stan the man here certainly liked being your damsel in distress,” Richie smacks a hand on Stan’s shoulder and laughs, you soon join in. Stan smacks the boy with the glasses harder than you think anyone realized he could. “Ow, that fucking hurt” Richie whines, rubbing his arm and sulking off to Eddie. 

“D-do y-y-you wan-nt to go-o to the qu-qu-quarry wi-with us?” Bill asks and Richie smirks at the idea.

“I should go before Henry gets even more mad,” you play with the hem of your shirt. “But thank you for asking.”

“Please,” Richie clasps his hands and blinks dramatically at you, sticking his bottom lip out in an over dramatic pout. 

“Why not?” you grin at the losers, but at Stan the most. 

--

Over the following weeks you grow closer to the boys; Bev, Mike, and Ben too when they join the losers club. One day the eight of you are at the quarry trying to ignore the whole killer clown thing. Stan looks nervous about jumping into the water, even though you’ve seen him do it multiple times already. So you decide to grab his hand and pull him down with you withput warning. He lets out a high pitched screech that you almost can’t hear over the wind whipping past you. 

Once you and Stan, the last two to jump down, break the water's surface Richie grabs Eddie repeatedly screaming the word chicken and shaking the smaller boy. Bev grabs Ben’s hand to which he grins at. Richie and Bill share a look before the stuttering boy wades over to you. 

“W-w-will you b-be my par-pa-partner?” Bill smiles at you, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Of course!” you smile at your friend, happy that the group accepted you quickly even though you’re a Bowers. You don’t see the glare Stan is sending Bill as he pairs up with Mike. Richie smirks at the rest of the group, you and Stan oblivious to the looks they send each other and their plan to make Stan so jealous he tells you how he feels. 

--

“So Stan,” Richie sings.

“No,” Stan says, watching you and Bev ride your bikes to your house for a sleepover. Her dad was worse than normal lately and she needed an escape, and you loved the escape it created from your brother. 

“I never asked my fucking question,” the boy with the coke-bottle glasses pouts.

“Because nothing good ever comes out of your mouth,” Stan deadpans, finally turning to look at his friends. You rode past the curve at the end of the road effectively taking you out of Stan’s line of sight, so he had no reason not to look at his friends now. 

“You were holding hands with (Y/N),” Eddie speaks up from Richie’s side. “Which is just fucking disgusting! Do you know how many germs-”

 His voice is cut off when Richie slaps his hand over the smaller boy's mouth. The look of terror on the hypochondriac’s face is one that Richie won’t stop laughing at for years to come. 

“She pulled me off the ledge,” Stanley rolls his eyes, suppressing a blush as he remembers how soft and warm your hand was. “It meant nothing.”

“And big Bill doesn’t fucking stutter,” Richie rolls his brown eyes, which look like googly eyes since they’re magnified by his glasses. 

“What?” Stan asks looking at the road in front of him, not wanting his friends to see how red his face and ears are. 

“I thought we were coming up with obvious lies,” Richie shrugs. “You’ve been in fucking love with her since you two got paired up at the beginning of the damn school year.”

“Have not!” Stan tries to lie, but his face darkens three shades deeper. The red instantly gives his obvious feelings away to his smirking friends. 

“It’s that or you have rosacea,” Edidie looks up at the Jewish boy with mock innocent eyes. “Because your cheeks are bright red every time you're around her.” Stan doesn’t respond because he knows they’re right, so he just walks away from them.

--

“Do you like Stan?” Bev giggles at the sleepover. The two of you had been talking about her and Ben prior to the question. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, looking down at your hands resting in your lap. “He’s so nice, and so sweet, and so caring. Plus, he went out of his way to help me when I was confused in class this year.”

“Yeah-” you cut off the redhead. 

“And the way his curls fall in front of his eyes when he’s leaning forward, so he has to angrily huff at it to try to blow the curl away. And the way his face scrunches up all adorably when he’s concentrating on a hard problem.”

Before you can continue fawning over your friend, your door slams open. It hits the wall behind it with a loud crack, where you later find a hole in the wall the handle created. In the doorway is a pissed off Henry, steam practically shooting out of his ears. 

“I thought I told you to stay away from him and the rest of those fucking losers?” he shouts, you’re dad isn’t here to hear him. “And now I hear you talking about that damn flamer with the schools slut no less.”

“Funny that you call Stan a flamer,” you smirk at your brother as you stand from the bed, subtly stepping in front of  Bev so she’s behind you and away from your brother's wrath. “When Patrick gave you a hand job.” 

“How the fuck did you hear about that?” he slams his fist into the wall beside him, knocking off a framed photo of a bird Stan had sketched for you during the school year. 

“I saw it with my own two eyes, dumb ass,” you sneer at him. “Next time you want to get a hand job from your boyfriend, don’t do it at the dump.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” he roars, closing in on you. Bev lets out a small gasp behind you, you feel bad she has to witness this. Especially when she came here to get away from her dad.

“Go ahead, then run off to get your oral from him,” you laugh. Before Henry can do anything else, the front door opens and your dad calls for you two. You sigh in relief as your older brother storms out of your room. You and Bev never bring up what was said or what just happened. 

--

You got separated from Stan while in Neibolt, but luckily Bill was with you. The horrors you all faced in that run down house will forever haunt each and every one of you. You’re shaking slightly as Stan and you cling onto each other as the two of you walk out of that horrendous place. 

You gasp loudly and hide your face in Stan’s chest as Bill punches Richie in the face. Your body starts to shake slightly without your permission, being taken back to when Henry punched the wall a few days prior. Bev pulls you into her side as Stan and Mike help Richie up. Bill goes for Richie again, but Ben holds him back. Richie yells back in retaliation.

“Stop,” you whimper, body trembling worse. Visions of your dad and Henry yelling at each other and shoving one another flash through your mind. A memory of Henry punching the locker beside your head when you were the last two in school floats to the forefront of your mind. “Please.”

Stan immediately rushes over to you and pulls you into his chest, you don’t care if he finds out about your feelings anymore as you grip onto his striped polo. He’s an anchor in the storm of your mind. Even when Henry isn’t around, he’s still lurking in the back of your mind making sure he can hurt you. The rest of the group stops what they’re doing for a minute to glance at the two of you before walking in two separate directions. Bev gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she leaves. 

“How about I walk you home? Stan offers, rubbing his hand in a calming motion on your back. 

“Can we go on a walk instead?” you ask nervously, pulling away slightly. He keeps his arms wrapped around you as he studies your face. He keeps his arm around your shoulder as you walk through the park. 

You and Stan take a seat in front of  the giant Paul Bunyan statue, soaking up the summer sun and the sounds of the birds singing. For the next several hours you and Stan lay side by side on the grass as he points out different birds and tells you about them. Your heart pounds every time your fingers brush against each other as they lay in between you. Your body and heart are aching to slip your fingers through his, but your mind is telling you no. You ultimately listen to your mind, feeling dissatisfied with yourself at the awkward wave he gives you as he drops you off at your house. 

--

The days where the losers are fighting rush by, each of them spent doing something with Stan. before you know it, it’s nearing the end of the summer and Pennywise is gone. You reluctantly take part in the blood oath, wanting to leave this town as soon as you turn eighteen and never look back. But you would do anything for your friends, even risk your life for them again. As you're hugging Bev goodbye, you can’t believe she’s really leaving, Stan comes up beside you. 

“Will you go on a walk with me?” Stan asks timidly, not meeting your eyes. The puffy bandages around his face make your heart lurch at the thought of how much pain he must have endured. 

“Sure,” you nod even though he’s staring at the ground in front of his feet. Bev gives you a smile and a slight shove in encouragement. You give her one last smile as you start off down the trail, Stan taking long strides to catch up. 

“What happens now?” Stan asks, his fingers brush against yours as you walk side by side. 

“My aunt’s moving here, so I’m staying,” you don’t turn to look at him, scared to face more disappointment. 

You stop walking when you two reach the kissing bridge, not that you expected anything to happen, but it was a nice view. You look down to see the small S inside the heart you carved earlier in the year, it sits near Richie’s R + E. You absentmindedly rub your wrist, Henry had grabbed you so hard he bruised you when he caught you with his missing switchblade. But it was worth it, in twenty or thirty years from now those markings would still be there, your own little mark on history. 

“I’m glad,” Stan says it so quietly he doesn’t think you’ll hear him, but you do. You glance up at him and immediately frown as you get a better look at the bandages wrapped around his face. It takes you back to the day in the sewers, the day he yelled at you. 

“Stan!” you scream in fear as you wade through the grey water. Your heart is pounding in your chest, this can’t be happening! You can’t lose him, not Stan. One minute he was with the group and the next he's gone. “What if IT got him?” your voice shakes in fear.

“You can’t think like that,” Richie says firmly, but you can hear the fear in his voice. 

Before you can respond you hear a scream, one eerily familiar to when you pulled Stan off the ledge at the quarry. “Stan!” you scream again as you run past your friends through the dark smelly sewers to find the curly haired boy that you care for. 

You reach the closed door at the end of the tunnel, opening the rusty metal on your own thanks to the adrenaline rush. Your friends' screams of Stanley get louder as they catch up to you. All six of you rush through the door and look for Stan in the large underground room. You walk around and come face to face with the creepy women from the painting he hates eating his face. A strangled sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper escapes your mouth, alerting your friends that you found him. 

“What the fuck is that?” Richie asks as Eddie shines Stan’s discarded flashlight at the thing. The multiple rows of teeth finally let go of Stan and the lady looks at the lot of you.

“Get off of him!” you scream, reaching down beside you and grabbing a rusty pipe. You chuck the metal at the creature smacking it in the middle of the face, it opens its mouth and hisses at you before retreating. 

You all breathe a small sigh of release, until Pennywise peeks his head out from behind the corner. All six of you let out high pitched screams, but all you can think about is Stan’s safety not your own. As Pennywise hides behind the corner again you run and drop to your knees at Stan’s side, the rest of the boys quickly following suit. You reach out and touch his arm, muttering his name in a soft calming voice, but all he does is scream in terror. 

“Get off me!” he pushes six pairs of hands off of him as he scrambles away from you and the rest of the losers club. “You left me! You took me to Neibolt! You aren’t my friends!” 

“Stan, we were looking for you. We were so worried, I was so worried,” your hand gently touches his cheek, trying to see how much physical damage IT had caused.

“Get away from me!” he glares at you as he smacks your hand away from him. “You're no better than Henry! Worse than him! You tricked me into being your friend just so you could hurt me!”

You rip yourself away from the curly haired boy so fast you fall flat on your ass as you try to move away. You gasp and tears fill your eyes, Bill’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder. He had been with you at Neibolt, he saw that your fear was Henry. Your feelings for Stan were obvious, so the accusations made the rest of the boys angry at Stan for hurting you. Tears fall quickly from your cheeks as you stand and back away from the group. You need to get out of there, away from Stan, away from the pain. 

The rest of the losers back away from their friend and get ready to search for their favorite redhead. You all find Bev quickly, and you smirk as Ben kisses her to wake her up. Pennywise soon appears, attacking Bill first, the rest of you try to fight the clown but it doesn’t work.

“Let him go!” Bev’s plea reminds you of yours from earlier. 

“No, I’ll take him” IT shakes its head with a grin. The killer clown explains to the group how it will eat your flesh as it feasts on your fears. “I’ll take him and only him,” IT offers. 

“Leave,” Bill begs the losers.

“I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown,” Richie complains. “Welcome to the losers club asshole!” he screams, hitting Pennywise in the face with a discarded baseball bat. 

Chaos erupts, everyone grabs for a weapon to fight the clown with. As everyone starts attacking IT with the garbage they found, IT manages to slip away. You all decide, stupidly, to split up and look for Pennywise. 

“Good morning sunshine,” Henry’s annoying voice whispers into your right ear, dialogue straight from an incident where he almost seriously injured you. “Dad’s not home.” You can hear the smirk in IT’s voice.

“This isn’t real! You aren’t Henry! You aren’t real!” you scream, the losers stop their search for the clown and watch on nervously. 

“It’s time to play sis!” IT laughs like a maniac as he walks in front of you, you're forced to stare up into IT’s eyes. Pennywise steps closer so you step back, which you do again and again. A replica of Henry’s switchblade pops open and is pointed directly at your gut. “Daddy dearest isn’t home to stop me!”

“Go through with it! Do it! Do what the real Henry never had the guts to do!” you scream at your brother- well Pennywise. He has you backed into a wall, switchblade dully pushing into you just above your navel. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you pant, angry tears mixing with the heartbroken ones from earlier as you stare defiantly at the thing that had been after you and your friends all summer.  

IT backs away slowly, your brothers-Pennywise’s- head tilting to the side as he studies you. A grin too large to be humanly possible splits across Henry’s face, rows of teeth on display as IT laughs in delight. You see your friends inching closer to you and the clown, you make eye contact with Richie giving him a slight shake of your head. He sighs in defeat, grabbing both Stan and Eddie pulling them back, the rest of the losers halt when they realize what the trashmouth did. 

“You were easy to crack,” IT giggles loudly, shifting back into a clown. IT lifts a hand up, finger tracing your cheek down to your throat, stopping directly over your artery.   

“Take me and leave my friends alone!” you glare up at IT. 

As the clown goes to open its mouth, Ben comes out of nowhere and stabs IT right in the back. The rest of the losers start attacking IT again, the clown shifts from fear to fear in hopes of getting one of the losers to stop. It shifts to Bev’s father, so she stabs a rusty rod right down IT’s throat in order to make him go away. The clown convulses and backs away from the group. 

“That’s why you didn’t kill (Y/N) and Bev, because they weren’t afraid of you!” it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Bill not stutter. “We aren’t afraid of you. Now it’s your turn to be afraid, because you’ll starve.” IT flips itself into a hole that leads lower into the sewer system, letting go and disintegrating before Bill can whack IT with a pipe. 

You all stare in shock for a few moments before making your way out of the sewers and towards your homes. The losers all talking amongst themselves, all but you. you’re ahead of the group, wanting to put as much distance between you and Stan as you possibly can. Eddie too, he had already asked what you meant while Pennywise was still Henry. Two conversations you definitely didn’t want to have. 

“(Y/N/N)? You okay?” Stan’s distant and worried voice breaks you out of your memories. “Where were you just now?”

“I’m fine,” you lie and he can tell by the flash of pain that crosses your face. “Just thinking about the other day.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Stan frowns, turning away from the carvings on the wood to face you fully. “I wasn’t in the right head space-”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, fingers gently running over the S carved into the wood.

“No it isn’t,” he says firmly, you look at him with wide eyes. You weren’t expecting him to get so serious about it. “IT messed with my head, made me see things that weren’t true and I took it out on you.” 

“Stan, I get it. IT knew how to hurt us most,” you reach over and lightly wrap your hand around his in a reassuring gesture. He stares down at your joined hands for a moment, ears turning a vibrant red, before continuing with his explanation. 

“He showed me a vision of you and Bill kissing,” Stan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“What-” you’re eyebrows furrow as you watch his face grow from pink to red. 

“I like you, (Y/N). A lot. And when IT showed me that it broke my heart. Deep down I knew it wasn’t real, but it felt so real. I’ve liked you since the beginning of the school year, and I never had the guts to tell you. Because why would you like me? You could have any guy, how could you ever possibly want me-” you cut him off by gently pressing your lips to his. It’s a soft and fast peck, but you still pull away smiling. “What?”

“I like you too, you loser. For just as long, I was scared to say anything because of Henry,” you giggle at his shock, mouth open and eyes wide. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

“Speaking of Henry,” Stan’s mouth snaps shut before his lips pull into a deep frown. “What did you mean back in the sewers?” You sigh, not wanting to admit it allowed. Stan pushes a strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek gently. 

“Henry thought I broke his Atari, so he screamed at me endlessly and threatened to kill me,” you admit softly, rage and sadness battle within Stan’s eyes as he takes in the information. “It wasn’t the first time he threatened that, but it seemed different that time. My dad had no idea, he only heard some of the yelling, which he screamed at Henry for doing. So that made Henry even more mad at me. But anyway, it turns out that it was Belch that broke it.”

“(Y/N),” Stan says softly, pulling you into his embrace. “I’ll never let anyone else hurt you.”

“Promise?” you ask hopefully, could you really finally be happy? 

“I promise,” he kisses your forehead softly. “I know this isn’t great timing, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to,” you grin at him, gently caressing the bandages as you pull him in for another kiss.

tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​