#stanley uris x fem reader

[lilhoeforevanpeters]

stanley uris as a husband

"I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden"

Stanley Uris x GN! reader

I know this fandom is practically dead, but I just really love these characters and the fandom, so for those few of you still out there, hey! feel free to send any requests my way, I might add a masterlist+who I write for. thanks!

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he would do anything for you. you’re cold? here’s a blanket and tea. you’re sad? here’s a hug and forehead kisses. 

he would rant to you about birds, and you’d smile and nod along, not really knowing what’s exciting about birds (unless you really like birds), but loving the excitement on his face

occasionally will go bird watching, either following a hike/and or walk 

you’d buy a house together and renovate it yourselves

he would paint the living room a green-ish color. like a neutral green

either assisting him with puzzles, or reading a book beside him on the couch while he works on one

when you get married, the losers club is there, making fun of stanley since he managed to get married

him glaring at them and telling you to ignore richie’s jokes, only to be surprised when you start making jokes with richie

you and richie get along really well and are actually besties- which irritates stanley but he knows he can trust richie

when you’re in bed trying to sleep you’ll start asking random questions, to which he will put up with and answer as his eyes are closed

“do fish know about land?”

“probably, baby-love”

speaking of which, EXCESSIVE use of baby-love

he’s the type of husband to be best friends with your mother. prove me wrong

he has ocd (that’s canon, right?)

forehead kisses, kisses on the cheek, or the neck, most of the time anywhere but your lips

of course he’d still kiss your lips all the time, but for a quick solution he’ll resort to those quick pecks

he lets you try on his glasses, even if he thinks it’s childish 

he’ll listen to you about your rants, whether it’s something your family said, gossip going around in the neighborhood, or your favorite book series, he’s engaged and listening the entire time

he would tear up while proposing

would 100% propose in a meaningful spot to you two, like the place where you had your first date, etc

the healthiest relationship ever

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[zetmns]

✧ SPIDER BOY

“King of thieves!”

In which- bill always loved a girl he knew he couldn’t have someone the old classic bill denbrough couldn’t have. But could spiderman have her?

pairing: SpiderMan!bill denbrough x fem!reader

PARTS !- pt 1 !

PLAYLIST !- SPIDERBOY

✧ Starring !

-bill denbrough as Spider-Man

-Bill denbrough a 16 year old loser still with the group hes been with since he was 11 joining the school baseball team game him a bit of a not so much loser pass tho Just a normal little guy but not so much..

b.d: S-sorry d-d-didn’t mean to s-stare ur j-Just p-pretty.. W-Wait! Not l-like that!

S.m: H-hey beautiful w-what’s a girl Like y-you Doing out here?

Y/n L/n as the Highschool sweatheart

-Y/n l/n the 16 year old violin and soccer player definition of a parents perfect kid atleast from the adult perspective secretly a playful kid who would rather live her own life then be the perfect kid maybe a spider can help with that…

Y.l: Never thought I’d fall for a baseball player but I guess your an exception..

Y.l: hey Spidey i was wondering when I’d see my favorite insect again.

✧ Featuring !

Stanley Uris- Bills Bestfriend

Eddie Kaspbrak- signature germaphobe

Richie tozier- 1# lady lover (allegedly)

Mike Hanlon- the babysitter

Ben Hanscom- shakespear in disguise

Beverly marsh- the Juliet to Romeo (Ben)

Comment “tag” to be added to the tag list!

[fixfoxnox]

more stanley uris?🙏🙏

Calm Your Nerves - Stanley Uris x Fem! Reader (NSFW)

Description: Stan's nerves are eating away at him before he and his wife are set to meet up with the other Losers again, luckily his wife knows just how to help him calm his nerves. Part 2 of A Better Bath

Warnings: Smut

Names used: Babylove, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k

Note: I have one more Stanley Uris request in my ask box, but after I finish that I'll be taking a break from writing for Stan!

“You still aren’t dressed?” She stepped into the small room they’d been given at the townhouse. She’d wanted to make her own reservation for the trip, if only to give herself something that she could control, but Mike told her that he had everything handled, and that was that. She stepped closer to Stan, worry clear on her face.

She’d been hard-pressed to let him out of her sight since they’d gotten the call, since she’d practically broken down the door to his office, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the letters that he was writing. She’d known. She’d probably known he would try it since they were kids, since he’d taken that broken bottle piece and jokingly pretended to cut his own wrists when they made their vow. That memory had come from the depths of her mind. The vow. Derry, Maine. The Losers Club. Georgie. It. 

All of it had come rushing back to her and if it hadn’t been for the trashcan that Stanley kept by the door to his office, she knew she would have ruined their carpets. That didn’t matter though. It didn’t matter because Stan was here, he was here in front of her, sitting on a bed in the Derry townhouse, looking like a miserable puppy who’d been forced to take a bath, his wet hair from his shower still clinging to his forehead.

She stepped closer to him, moving to stand between his legs so that she could properly brush the hair from his face. He leaned into her touch, his arms coming to wrap around her legs as he leaned his head against her stomach. “It isn’t too late for us to leave,” he mumbled to her, his voice hoarse. “We can still go home and pretend this never happened.”

“Stan,” she scolded lightly, “We made a promise.”

“When we were kids!” He stressed, pulling back to look up at her with wild eyes. She could see the fear that was reflected in them and it made her heart constrict in her chest. She hated to see Stan so worried. 

“Hun,” she took his face in her hands, trying to comfort him as best she could, “It’s just dinner with some old friends.”

“But Mike-”

“Could be wrong,” she interrupted. She leaned down, capturing his lips with her own in a sweet kiss. She took one of Stan’s hands in her own as they pressed their lips together slowly, sweetly. His hands were shaking. There was another moment as she pressed closer to him, his hands began rubbing at the back of her thighs, skating over the curve of her ass. She pulled away from the kiss slowly, her hands pressing into his shoulders to push him back toward the bed. “I think,” she slowly climbed onto the bed to straddle him, “that you need to take your mind off of things. Calm your nerves a bit.”

Stan’s hands landed on her hips, tugging her down to grind against him in a slow roll. She gave a gasp at the delicious pressure, her hands coming to rest against his naked chest for support. Stan only tilted his head back with a satisfied sigh. “I certainly won’t say no.” He brought her down to roll against him again. 

She could feel him growing harder against her, his boxers were the only thing separating his growing cock from her jean-clad legs. She ground down against him again, tilting her head back as the move caused the seam of her pants to rub against her deliciously. “We have to be quick,” she warned him.

“I can be quick,” he assured her, his hands already tugging at the button of her pants, “But you have to get these fucking things off.” His words were nothing more than a low growl, ripped from his throat viciously. His cheeks were going pink and with that clouded look in his eyes, she knew that he was focused on one thing and one thing alone: burying himself deep inside of her. 

She was quick to climb off of him, shimmying out of her pants and panties as quickly as she could. Stan was in a similar boat, kicking off his boxers quickly to reveal his hard cock to the world. She licked her lips at the sight of it, feeling heat pooling in her stomach and her hands aching to wrap around his length. 

She watched wide-eyed for a moment as Stan wrapped a hand around his cock, giving himself a few slow jerks as moans pulled from his throat. She wasn’t going to stay still for long and was quick to take the few steps back toward the bed, batting Stanley’s hand away to replace it with her own. 

Stan’s head tilted back against the bed, his lidded eyes watching her face as her hand slowly worked his cock. She let her hand tighten and loosen in a quick rhythm. Tighter at the bottom and softer at the top. Her face flushed slowly as Stan’s moans grew more desperate, his hand coming forward to yank at her shirt, trying to tempt her to just climb on top of him and take him already. Her cunt throbbed at the thought. 

Still, she couldn’t force herself to, not when she could see the little bit of pre-cum at the tip of Stan’s cock, the sight was just too tempting. It was too tempting and she loved to hear the noises that he made. With that thought in mind, she let her hand stroke to the bottom of his cock before she dived down, giving a quick kitten lick to the tip of his dick. Stan’s hips jerked under the quick movement. “Fuck! Babylove,” she interrupted his words by wrapping her mouth around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around him quickly. His voice sounded wrecked as another breathy moan pulled from his lips, “fuck, I thought we had to be- oh god, quick?”

She didn’t answer, only hummed amusedly in response. His responding whine made her throb. She dropped to her knees in front of the man, a bit more comfortable of a position than trying to lean over him. Her mouth continued working him, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth, laving her tongue over the side of his cock. It wasn’t until she’d taken him almost as deep as she could that she hollowed her cheeks, giving a harsh suck that had his hands flying to her hair and his hips jumping up into the feeling. 

She nearly choked on his length as it abused the back of her throat, but she managed to keep her gag reflex in check, allowing Stan to use his hand in her hair to begin guiding her mouth up and down on his cock, quicker and quicker as his moans grew more desperate. “So good for me,” he moaned out, “so fucking good, letting me fuck your mouth like this.”

She whimpered around his cock, feeling her face flush red again. She could feel herself clenching, aching to have some sort of pressure against herself. Her free hand dropped down, teasing her clit with slow strokes at first before speeding up to match the pace with which Stan was fucking her mouth. As usual, Stan seemed to know exactly how much she was getting off to this. He knew her inside and out, and he could tell from her moans the second she’d started to touch herself.

“Playing with your cunt, aren’t you?” He gave a moaned-out laugh, his hips beginning to jump up into her mouth. She could feel him twitching on her tongue. At his words, she pressed her fingers harder to herself, moving quicker to feel those jolts of pleasure work through her legs and slowly begin to fog her brain. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, babylove.”

Spit slicked down her chin, the force of his growing thrusts making her gag around his length. He felt too good fucking her throat, she couldn’t even think about the fact that she likely wouldn’t be able to speak properly afterward, but she knew she wanted it. She wanted him to wreck her, she always did. The thought made her moan around his length, her hand on her clit slowly sinking lower to tease around her entrance. She prodded one finger inside of herself, it was far too little of a stretch, but soon she was able to add another and that, combined with the pressure of her palm still stimulating her clit, was enough to have her mind going blank. 

The sounds of moans and obscene sucking noises were the only thing in the room. They were being loud, as per usual, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The walls in the building were thin, and she knew if anyone else was there they would be able to hear exactly what they were doing. The thought only made her lick and suck at Stan more vigorously. Let them know, let all of their friends know just how much they loved each other. 

Above her, Stan’s hips began to jerk more wildly, his hand tightened in her hair, and his moans grew more and more desperate, choked off with every move. She knew he was close, which was why she was so disappointed when his grip in her hair forced her off of his cock, a small bit of drool still connecting her mouth to his soaked cock. “Fuck,” He sat up from the bed, his face red and his eyes wide, “Get up here babylove, Let me finish in you, huh? Fuck you full.” 

The words pulled a startled gasp from her and she gave herself one last good pump of her fingers inside of herself before pulling them out and scrambling to her feet. She moved to straddle Stan, crawling on top of him and feeling his cock rub deliciously over her entrance. Stan was quick to capture her soaked hand, the one she’d buried in her cunt. He brought it to his mouth, locking eyes with her as he let his mouth wrap around the digits, licking them clean. 

He moaned around her fingers, “You taste so good,” he pulled them out of his mouth, placing a kiss on her palm and beginning to trace kisses up her arm so that he could sink his face into her neck as his hands pulled her hips flush to his, both of them gasping at the resulting pleasure. “When this is all over,” he muttered into the skin of her throat, “I want to taste you. We’ll make an afternoon out of it.” 

“Stan,” she muttered lowly, embarrassment and lust in her voice. Just the thought of Stanley with his face buried between her thighs had her cunt clenching around nothing. “Please, baby,” she begged. 

“Please what?” Stan muttered against her ear, amusement clear in his voice. “You have to be a bit clearer, babylove.” 

She whined, feeling his teeth nipping against her neck, leaving little marks as one of his hands trailed up, tracing under her shirt and up to her bra. He groped at her breast through her bra, pulling a gasp from her throat as his thumb rubbed deliciously over her nipple through the material. “Please,” she rolled her hips against his, pulling a breathy laugh from his throat, “Fuck me. Please!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Stan pulled away from her throat, quickly capturing her lips against his own, a grin on his face. His hand on her breast pulled away, slowly skating down her stomach to teasingly brush against her clit. He used his grip on her hip to pull her down, his hand grasping his cock to line himself up before he was ever so slowly sinking her down onto his length. 

She gave a gasp at the feeling, a long moan pulled from her throat as her head tilted back. He was moving so slowly, so torturously slowly. She tried to roll down, seeking that little bit of friction from him, but his hands on her hips stopped her, forcing her to take him at the pace that he set. “God, Stanley,” she whined out, her legs shaking as her arms came to grip his shoulders, pulling him tighter against her in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. 

They both gasped when he finally bottomed out. Stan moved away from her lips, burying his face back into her throat to suck marks against her skin. He just held her there for a moment, not moving. Finally, after she started to squirm against him, desperate little whines leaving her throat, he began to move, using his grip on her hips to roll her against him. “Go on, babylove,” he muttered into her ear, giving a quick nip to the skin there, “ride me.” 

He leaned back then, a smug grin on his face as his hands stopped moving her. It was clear to see that he was going to make her do most of the work. The thought had a shiver running down her spine, her heart beating faster in her chest as she clenched around him. He moaned at the feeling. 

She let her hands move to rest against his chest, using the leverage to slowly lift herself up, before dropping back down onto him hard, both of them moaning loudly at the stimulation. She repeated the movement again, building a slow but hard rhythm that had both of them desperate, harsh little moans forced from their throats. With every move of her hips, she could feel Stanley inside of her, brushing pleasantly against her walls and hitting that spot that had her back arching and her nails digging into his chest. Her clit was rubbing deliciously against the hair at the base of his cock, sending little jolts of pleasure up her spine with every move. 

Stan’s hands grasped at her hips harder, tugging her against him harder and harder with every thrust. His hips began canting up into the feeling, little grunts escaping his mouth as his eyes grew hazy and his mouth dropped open. Whispers of her name, of how good she was, of how much he loved her escaped his mouth, causing her to slam herself harder against him. 

Her legs burned with the movement and she knew that she would be sore by the end of this, but she couldn’t make herself care, her head tilted back at the exertion, but pleasure wracked her spine. Her mind was cloudy, the only thought in her head was a constant stream of his name. Just him, him, him over and over and over. “You feel so good,” she moaned, tilting forward to hover over him. 

He groaned at her words, his body tense. She could tell her movements were growing slower by how tense he was. He was trying to let her do it, trying not to just snap and fuck into her. The thought made her warm and she clenched around him again. There was an itch in her as well, they both knew that neither of them was going to be able to reach their end this way. It just wasn’t going to happen. “Stan,” she moaned, dropping down to press kisses against his naked chest. She took his nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it and rolling forward at the desperate gasp he gave. “Fuck me,” she spoke against his skin, “Please, please, fuck just take me, baby.” 

He didn’t need any more permission than that. With a quick grab of her hips, he was flipping their positions, smoothly rolling her over to her back so that he could begin to pound into her at a quickening pace. Each of his thrusts pulled a whining moan from her throat, the bed beneath them creaking dangerously at the pace and force that he was fucking her with. 

She could feel pleasure rising up inside of her, every thrust forcing it higher and higher until she was threatening to spill, her hands scratching across his back and shoulders. He was giving harsh little grunts into her skin, sweat slicking his forehead as he fucked her harshly. His words stayed sweet though, “So good for me, babylove, so fucking good. Taking me so good, so fucking tight.” She could feel his pace beginning to change, his hips moving more erratically as he neared the edge as well. 

“Please,” her head lolled back against the bed, arching up against him, desperate for that stinging pleasure to continue hitting at her. Stanley delivered, pulling her leg up over his shoulder so that he could fuck into her deeper and deeper. 

It wasn’t long after that, the sounds of skin slapping skin speeding up, growing more erratic, when she finally found herself being pushed toward the edge. She could feel herself shaking, her entire body going tense as the pleasure continued building higher and higher before finally, with one last harsh snap of Stanley’s hips against her own, she was thrown over the edge with a call of his name. 

Stan wasn’t far behind her, the tightening of her cunt around his cock sending his hips stuttering against her own. Only a few more thrusts and he was giving a grunt, burying himself deep inside of her with a harsh grunt. 

She came back to herself several moments later, wrinkling her nose at the feeling of warm cum seeping down her thighs. She didn’t say anything though, only brought her hand up to begin carding it through Stanley’s hair, just letting him lay with his head against her shoulder. They would have to move soon, no doubt they were already late, but she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. They could take a few more moments, they could be late if they needed to be. 

“Alright?” She checked with him again as they pulled into the parking lot. She was driving, knowing that he was far too nervous and distracted to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He took in a deep shaky breath, wiping his hands on his pants but giving her a smile nonetheless. “I’ll make it,” he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on, I think we’re late.” He sent her a playful wink, one that had her heart fluttering in her chest and a smile pulling at her face. 

She didn’t know what was about to happen, she didn’t know if what Mike told them was true, but she did know that she would be able to handle it. She could handle it so long as she had Stan beside her, he helped her calm her nerves. 

My Masterlist

[bagerfluff]

Hello!

I'm bagerfluff.

I'm a trans bisexual bager man who loves to write. I'm a male and non-binary reader blog and I only write for male reader and non-binary. If you like what you see here then you might like my Ao3. I'm multifandom with changing interests.

I hope you have a good day, night, or afternoon and don't forget to drink water :)

Banners made by @cafekitsune

Miscellaneous

Harry Potter

Stranger Things

It (2017)

Teen Wolf

Voltron

Legend Of Zelda

Riordanverse

Pokémon

Digimon

A Date With Death

Requests Are Closed

I write one-shots, headcanons, and drabbles for male and nonbinary readers, no females or fem aligned readers, so fem DNI.

I don't write for OC's. - I will now write smut - no fem readers

For smut. I only do top dom male readers x characters. Every character I write for will be over 18, the one thing I won't do is under age.

I count a drabble as a fic that is below 500 words. If you have a different opinion, that is fine, but this one is mine, so please don't be rude about it or rude to anyone else opinion. :)

And apology in advance if I don't do them for a while I can sometimes forget stuff.

IT - Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough, Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh,

STRANGER THINGS - Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Max Mayfield,

HARRY POTTER - Anyone in Harry's era and Marauders era, but no adults. So, no adult versions of Remus, James, Regulus, etc

RIORDANVERSE - Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Nico di Angelo, Leo Valdez,

POKEMON - Gladion, Goh, Hop,

DIGIMON - Takeru Takaishi, Koushiro Izumi, Kouji Minamoto,

A DATE WITH DEATH - Casper x Reader, Casper x OC

[whorewriter-lol]

Intro <3

Hey!! My name's Maxine (Max for short, she/they). I’m new to writing so I'm just gonna list off the fandoms I’m in and the characters I write for! :)

Current works <3

OBX-

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

MHA-

Explosive Love (Bakugo x Reader)

Fandoms/characters <3

OBX-

JJ Maybank

Kiara Carrera

John B Routledge

Pope Heyward

Cleo Anderson

Rafe Cameron

Sarah Cameron

Stranger Things-

(Smut accepted for the following characters)

Eddie Munson

Robin Buckley

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

(Non-smut, no I will not write them aged up weirdo)

Maxine Mayfield

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

El Hopper

Will Byers

SBG-

Taylor Hernandez

Tyler Hernandez

Ashlyn Banner

Aiden Clark

Ben Clark

Logan Fields

MHA-

Katsuki Bakugo

Izuku Midorya

Shoto Todoroki

Enji Kirishima

Denki Kaminari

Mina Ashido

Ochako Uraraka

Kyoka Jiro

IT-

Richie Tozier

Eddie Kaspbrak

Beverly Marsh

Stanley Uris

Bill Denbrough

Mike Hanlon

Ben Hanscom

Bowers gang (all except Patrick, im sorry)

Bottoms-

Hazel Callahan

Isabelle

Josie

[aceditwrites]

The Master List (hi)

Master List:

Hi, i’m ace. I got really bored and i need an excuse to procrastinate on my personal writing projects so i decided to start an account dedicated to just writing. So like, you can request almost anything (limits below) like if you want like a platonic fic just ask! If you want the reader to be the kid or sibling of the character, i’ll do it! You can be as specific or as vague as you want, eventually i’ll get some prompts for help but for now, you gotta wing it. Also I’ll write for like any fandom even if i dont know it, i’ll try my hardest but i’d prefer if you stuck to the list below. Anyways yeah.  (also pfp is nyurei on picrew)

So basic rules, 

If youre an nsfw account dni, also i will not write smut regardless of age given i’m a minor

No incest 

I’m currently only doing x readers, that might change in the future but for now no ocs or ships

I’d prefer if you didn’t request x reader with an actual person, (ex. Instead of asking for a Maya Hawke x reader, ask for a Robin Buckley x reader)

If you know a character’s sexuality and you dont fit, dont ask (ex. Nico is gay, I will not write Nico x fem! reader)

Please specify pronouns when requesting 

Please keep in mind i’m not a professional writer 

Please use common sense and dont do something that makes me have to update the rules

Anyways, so fandoms i’ll write for

It 2017/2019: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon (specify if you want 2017 or 2019)

Percy Jackson: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood, Piper McLean, Jason Grace, Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, Connor Stoll, Travis Stoll, Nico Di Angelo, Will Solace

Supernatural: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel, Kevin Tran, Crowley, Charlie Bradbury, Rowena (does girly have a last name 💀), Jack Kline (platonic only)

South park (platonic only for everyone, they’re children): Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Eric Cartman, Kenny McCormick, Butters Scotch, Tolkien Black (or is it Token? I swear its always spelled different), Timmy, Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Jimmy Valmer, Wendy Testaburger 

Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory: Darius Bowman (i’d prefer if we kept it platonic with him but romance is ok i guess), Kenji Kon, Brooklyn, Yasmina Fadoula, Sammy Guiterrez, Ben Pincus, 

Marvel: Tony Stark (platonic only, so sorry) Steve Rodger, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Peter, Ned Leeds, M.J, Harley Keener, Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, Shuri, T'Challa, Okoye

The Owl House: Luz Noceda, Willow Park, Amity Blight, Edric Blight, Emira Blight, Gus Porter, Eda Clawthorne, Lilith Clawthorn, Hooty (platonic preferred, but if you freaky like that go ahead and ask for romance, see what happens), Raine Whispers

The Umbrella Academy: Luther, Diego, Alison, Klaus, Five (would he date a kid or an adult cause-), Ben (he can be alive or yall could be ghosts), Vanya 

Dear Evan Hansen: Connor Murphy (my beloved), Evan Hansen, Jared Kleinman, Zoe Murphy, Alana Beck

Heather: Heather Chandler, Heather McNamara, Heather Duke, Veronica Sawyer, Jason Dean, Martha Dunnstock

Invincible: Mark Grayson, Debbie Grayson, Eve Wilkins, Rex Splode, Amber Bennet, William Clockwell

Idk how any of this works but uh have fun

[lemon-boy-stan]

the quiet ones - 3/3

Part One; Part Two.

“I'm going home.”

“But we’re supposed to have a s – sleepover,” said Bill from the couch.

“Well, sorry, Bill. I have homework.” She didn’t have homework, Stanley knew she didn't, because she finished it all with him at his house yesterday.

“Well,” Richie adjusted his glasses and got up. “Take this,” he took a bulky item from a rack on the wall of his parent’s basement, “to keep you safe. It’s getting kind of late,”

Because normally, Stan thought miserably to himself, I walk you home.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Trashmouth,” the girl snapped at him. “I’m a few blocks down, I don’t need to bring a fucking baseball bat,”

“Hey! It killed a clown, it can probably kill Bowers, too!”

“Go fuck yourself, Richie. Don’t. Follow me.”

Y/N left in the rain, peddling quickly.

The others turned to look at him expectantly.

“What?!” Stan crowed. “OK, so I fucked up! There!”

“You’re supposed to f – follow her,” Bill shook his head.

“Fine.”

Stan sighed and got up, following his friend out of Richie's house. A few streets down, Y/N sensed his presence.

“I thought I told you not to follow me...” she didn’t look back at him like she usually did, she completely ignored him and he didn’t blame her.

“Y/N, wait,” his voice broke and she rolled her eyes again, whatever trick he was playing wasn’t going to work, not this time.

She peddled faster, just as he predicted she would.

“Go home, Stanley,” were the only words she would say to him tonight.

“You know, I'm stubborn,” he told her things about himself that she already knew – heck, that she memorized.

“So am I.” She quipped, “GO. HOME.”

“I'd rather not,” he enunciated the words like she was a kid, “I’d rather be with you,” his bike finally caught up with hers as she froze, halting to a stop.

And she continued again, going even faster,

“GO HOME, STANLEY!” The tears pricked at her eyes and this time she turned to look at him because she knew he hated seeing her cry, she knew he felt just as much pain as she did, “stop lying to the both of us.” And then she turned her head back to the road because she knew that if she looked at him any longer all her emotions would take over and he’d win, and she didn’t want him to win.

The tears split Stanley's heart strings. He hated seeing her cry, and he especially hated seeing her cry now because he was the one who caused the tears.

“But I’m not!” He pleaded, “I really do want your company!” she spat into the rain and turned back at him to make her point,

“As a friend? Go fuck yourself, Stan!” she cried some more, not bothering to choke them back.

“Please don’t cry,” he barely spoke, flinching as the tears fell. “N/N, please don’t -”

“Don’t. Fucking. Call me. That.”

Because that’s the name you use when I have nightmares and the name you use when I’m crying about my parents and I’m supposed to be angry at you instead of in love...

“O – OK, Y/N, please don’t cry, please don’t cry -”

“GO HOME, STANLEY!” she yelled the words this time, peddling faster and faster before the wheels of her bike span and she plummeted to the wet ground.

She couldn’t help but cry out in pain, seeing as she had an already twisted ankle.

“Y/N!” He sped over to her side as fast he could in the shitty weather, got her off her bike and held her close, and this time she cried on him, she cried on him and didn’t care because it hurt, it hurt too much.

“Why,” she choked, “do you care?!” it angered her, frustrated her to no end, made the pain in her leg even worse than it already was. “I mean, I'm just your friend,” she looked away from his shirt.

“You’re not,” he whispered, and she frowned, confused.

“But you kissed me because I was pretty and not because -”

“Listen. Listen to me. Would I seriously follow you out in the rain on my bike to get you? You know me well. I hate doing that crap...”

She hated herself for giggling at this.

“If you were Richie or Bill, even,” he continued, “would I have held you close and let your blood – oh my fucking Jesus Christ – get on my shirt?”

“No.” She glared at the rain. “So, then -”

“It was a mistake,” he whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to come out like that,” he admitted sheepishly. “It wasn't supposed to come out like that and I’m sorry it hurt you,”

Her eyes shone but she bit her lip.

“I meant I didn’t like you, I loved you, but I was too chicken to say it in front of everyone so I just – god, I hate myself,” he shoved his head into his hands. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “But I love you, really. I do. I get it now. I’ve loved you, I think, ever since we were kids...”

“Ever since you were my partner in English class,” she giggled softly and he nodded.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he twiddled his fingers. Just do it! And he did, he listened to himself for once, leaned in, kissed her, and she gasped.

Her lips were exactly as he imagined they’d be, soft and perfect to kiss. “Will you,” he spoke as soon as they pulled apart, she was flustered, he blushed to himself, “will you be my girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” she spoke. 

“What part do I have to clear?”

“Well, Stan, I know you’re good at first aid,” she blushed this time and looked away but he turned her head so he could see her pink cheeks, 

“Shouldn’t we get Eddie to do it?” he spoke seriously, it was a pretty bad injury. She shook her head.

“Yeah,” she admitted, “but I’d rather have you do it, seeing as, you know, you’re my boyfriend now...”

He chuckled softly. 

“OK.”

“I love you, Stan,”

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

MASTERLIST - requests are always open! SO ARE MY TAGLISTS!

[bvttoneyes]

Stanley Uris x Fem! Reader, the losers find out they’re dating and the become mom and dad of the group :)

Yes. Just yes. (Idk if you mind but I am doing the 2017 version)

[kyracanwrite]

It 2017 master list!

(I made some of these on wattpad a few years ago so don’t mind the weird ooc writing lmao)

💔-Angst

🤭-NSFW (will not be done for young Losers club)

💋-Smut (^same thing)

❤️-Fluff

🔪-Yandere

Losers club 🎈

Prefrence; who confessed first. ❤️

Prefrence; You’re on your period. ❤️

Bill Denbrough

(Coming soon)

Beverly Marsh

(Coming soon)

Richie Tozier

(coming soon)

Eddie Kaspbrak

(Coming soon)

Mike Hanlon

(Coming soon)

Ben hanscom

(coming soon)

Stanley Uris

(Coming soon)

Bower’s Gang

Henry Bowers

Midnight comfort

Warning: mentions of MURDER, Abuse, wounds. Fluff/Angst

(Side note: Again, wrote this a few years ago on my wattpad lol)

Words: 466

Patrick Hockstetter

(Coming soon)

Belch Huggins

(Coming soon)

Victor Criss

(Coming soon)

[lilhoeforevanpeters]

Haunted

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

Stanley Uris x GN!reader angst

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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.

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[flusteredloser]

subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer. 

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window? 

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

[casual-witch45]

Hello! Just wanted to say this is who I write for. All of these will be fem reader.

Marvel-

Peter Parker

Loki

Natasha Romanov

Tony stark

MJ

Buffy the vampire slayer

Spike

Willow

Giles

Criminal minds-

Spencer Reid

Emily Prentiss

Brooklyn Nine Nine-

Rosa Diaz

Jake peralta

Harry potter-

Draco malfoy

Hermione

Fred weasley

George weasley

It-

Richie tozier

Eddie kaspbrak

Stanley uris

Bill denbrough

Beverly marsh

Breaking bad-

Jesse Pinkman

I am not okay with this-

Stanley barber

Youtubers-

Markiplier

Crankgameplays

Colby brock

Actors-

Cole sprouse

Matthew Gray Gubler

As of right now this is all of the people I will write for you can always suggest other people.

[writing-fanics]

Stanley Uris x Fem!Reader

Summary: the reader and Stanley are married, and are in their rooms watching movie when they get a call.

Warning: angst, but fluff, mentions of sibling death, attempt suicide. And

Y/n was on the bed next to Stanley, as they cuddled with eachother. Stanley places his hand on y/n’s stomach and smiling.

“I can’t belive we’re having another baby” he said, and y/n smiled and looked at Stanley. She kissed him on the lips, and he kissed back.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, to deepen the kiss. They fell back on the bed, knowing where this was going.

They began to make out in bed, and as they began to take off eachothers clothes, y/n moaned as Stanley kissed her neck and began to nibble it.

Y/n intertwined her fingers with Stanley, and kissed his lips, y/n smiled, he kissed her chest.

Then as they were about to start, the phone went off, causing them to groan in annoyance. Stanley stood up, and answered it.

Y/n also got up and walked into the bathroom, y/n began to brush her teeth and was my face. When she turned around to see Stanley looking down at the floor.

“Stanley are you Okay?” She asked, and he looked at me. He shook his head and covered his face with his hands, “Stan? Sweetie” y/n asked, and he looked around.

“I-I’m going to take a bath” he said, and she nodded, and he stood up and walked towards the bath.

Time Skip

Y/n’s POV

I began to worry about Stan, so I decided to go check in him in the bath room, “Stan, sweetie are you Okay” I asked, then got even more worried and then my motherly instinct kicked in and I opened the door.

To see bloody water, “Shit! Stan!” I shouted, and I ran over to him and checked for a pulse. He was unconscious, I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator said, “uh, my husband attempted suicide and is bleeding, please hurry!” I cried, as I stared at my husbands body. “Oh, god. Stanley why would you do this” I cried, and kept pressure on the wound.

I then grabbed my phone, and called my friend, so she could come and watch the kids.

When the ambulance came I went into the back with Stan, holding his hand.

“Is he going to live?” I asked, and they looked at me with an unsure look. ‘What would make him do this’

Time Skip

I was sitting next to Stan holding his hand, gently caressing it. With my thumb, i looked down for a minute, to only feel a grip.

I smiled, “Stanley thank goodness” I said, and I hugged him.

“Y/n? Why am I in the hospital” he asked, and I looked at him, “Stan you tried to commit suicide” and I brought you here,I said.

“Stanley why would you do this?” I asked, and he looked at me and cried.

“I-it’s because, Mike Hanlon called me, and filed me IT was back” and I looked at him in shock, I gripped his hand rembering what happens to my baby brother.

Flashback

It was exactly 27 years ago, and y/n’s little brother Alex, was at Bill’s house playing with Georgie. And y/n was waiting for the time she had to go pick him up, at her house.

Georgie and Alex, were outside playing in the rain following. The SS. Georgie and Alex. They followed it, then it went down a storm drain.

And well you know what happens then, y/n cried during the funeral of both Georgie and Alex, she held onto Stanley leaning her head on his shoulder sobbing.

He rubbed her back, she was feeling as if it was her fault he was gone. She lost him, her baby brother she was supposed to protect him and now he was gone.

A few weeks after the death of her brother, y/n became distant from the losers. She didn’t hang out a lot, and was locked in her room crying and feeling depressed. She didn’t want them to know that she would cut.

But one day Stanley came over and found her cutting, in her bathroom. She looked at him, and sobbed as she fell to her knees. “It’s my fault he’s gone Stan” she cried, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

And he told her it was going to be okay.

Flashback ended

“Stan, you shouldn’t of done this” I said, and he looked at me and cried even more.

“Remember That day you saved me, from doing the exact same thing. I got to save you now. Stan you mean the whole world to me” I said, and he looked st me.

“I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you” I said, and I placed my hand on his cheek. And he brought his to touch mine.

“I love you so much, and I need you here our kids need you. Our baby needs you” I said, and I kissed his nose.

“I’m sorry, I hurt you” He said, and I shook my head. “You don’t need to be, we’ll get through this together I promise” I said, and he smiled and kissed my lips.

A few hours later we left, the hospital. And packed, and we got on the next plane. To Derry Maine. Me still holding Stans hand.

[bxckybeaver]

Wildest Dreams  Richie Tozier X Reader

listen to the song while reading :)

A/N:  so i was writing another fic, and Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift came on..so i now have this. enjoy!!!! :)

he looked at me and said “let’s leave. together. get out of this shitty town.” i’ve always had my doubts with whatever him and i were. but it felt too good to say no to him and those charming looks. and i new this was the end of something you only get once in a lifetime. and the beginning of what you have been warned your entire life. 

he had big doe child like eyes. he looked like a puppy when he was tearing up. he had this messy mop on his on his head he liked to call his “hair.” he was so tall and lanky, but i always loved it. he had these plump rosey lips, and rosey cheeks. he had a nice ass that i would grab at some point in the day to make him squeal. his collarbones always stuck out, but he usually hid them due to hickeys. he had freckles like stars. and hands that contained the world.

as i looked back to him to respond, his chest was still heavy due to us having fun a couple of minutes ago. i know he could hear my breathing, we weren’t very far from each other. i looked at his lips, his chest, back to his lips, and towards his eyes. “let’s go. i’ve always hated this town either way.” he shot back a smile. not too childish, yet neither was it emotionless. 

 “promise? tozier” “promise. future tozier.”

as i saw him get up i couldn’t help but imagine how idiotic i will look when he never does or say anything to me ever again. when he finds a new girl to have sex with from time to time, and kept as a secret.

he finds his clothes that were thrown around my room, and changes back into them. leaving me be the odd one if someone were to catch us.

he comes up to me, his curls flopping down, face still burning from earlier. “had a lovely time, babe. see ya around.” he leans down and connects our soft lips. i cup his face gently, and search for more. wanting to savor every bit of this. he pulls away with a smirk, and exits my room from the window once again.

i know he said “see ya around.” but there was something different in his voice, and i have now to accept our parting for good.

no more heated day and nights. no more touching his soft curls. no more more tugging at his shirt. no more of his taste. nothing. no glances at each other. absolutely nothing. 

i guess imaging him as my forever was just a wild ass dream.

[deww-drop-blog]

@darlinguris : for the prompt, can I please get 95 with a Stan X Reader?

"I love you. Never forget that, okay?"

warnings: fluff, aged up to 16 for good measure, my first public fic thing on here so it's probably very bad!! enjoy!!

a/n : didn't proofread, tried very hard but this is bad haahaa

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You wrung the dandelion in between your fingers, gazing up at the blue sky and the whispy clouds. You felt yourself drifting off to the sound of birds and the dandelion fell from your hand to your chest as your eyelids closed.

While sleeping, Stan Uris, the curly haired freckle face giant of a man, saw you lounging in your back yard from his bike and decided to stop his ride and visit you for a bit.

"maybe this is your chance to tell her, Stanley" he thought to himself, taking a deep breath before padding across the yard until he reached you. You slept peacefully, surrounded by yellow and green with a tint of pink on your cheeks. Stan knew if he had the sketch books like Bill, he'd draw everything he saw before him, but decided to make his presence known before staring any longer.

Stan sat down slowly onto the soft grass, laying down just inches away from your resting figure. He admired you among the bed of flowers, and your steady breaths, and even your fluttering eyelashes.

He reached a finger out to poke your side, you squirmed a bit at that. He inched closer, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering

" (y/n), it's time to wake up." his voice was sweet and made you smile as your eyes fluttered open, only to see his face so close to yours.

You jumped up, the hair on the back of your hair had grass and petals stuck to it and it was messy. " s-stan hi. What, um, what are you doing here?" You stuttered out, flushed red from the closeness, but would you ever admit that? no.

he smiled a toothy grin and picked a flower from the ground, his gaze trailing to your eyes as he handed the flower to you. " to be with the cutest and most special girl, of course. Or maybe it's just the birds." You both giggled and you took the flower gladly, internally screaming as well as you tucked it behind your ear proudly.

"I'm not cute Stanley." You chuckled and flattened out your hair, picking the grass from it. Stan the man looked like he had been slapped, his mouth agape and his eyes as wide as planets.

He gasped loudly, putting a hand to his chest dramatically. " (y/n), you are surely the most blind woman I've ever met and it pains me to hear such things." he said, maybe his face was getting redder as the seconds passed, too. You felt something bubble up in your chest, maybe it was anxiety or nervous butterflies, or maybe it was the sandwich you had earlier. But you had the overwhelming urge to do something very stupid.

You stared at him with a grin on your face, you slowly leaned and kissed him soundly on the cheek. when you pulled away you saw how happy he looked. His eyes lit up like fire embers and his cheeks heated up in a flush of red. The corners of his mouth tugged into a small smile and he leaned in, his hand was placed on yours and he pressed his lips against yours. The birds chirped, the wind blew, the smell of flowers and mint gum and cologne filled your senses.

All your feelings, confessions, heartfelt speeches, had gone unsaid but you knew everything he felt somehow. You both pulled away with pearly white smiles and he said to you,

" I think we both like each other, and have for a while. I don't think I could've slept in the same tent that one time, or shared lunch and seen your smile every day and not fallen for you." he talked softly, pulling away his hand to tug on his curls nervously.

" just know that the I like you has- please tell me if I sound crazy- has turned into an I love you. Is that okay?" his voice was quiet near the end, his eyes scanned everything but you and he was fidgeting so nervously. All you could think of doing was holding his hand. Your fingers intertwined atop the grass.

"obviously, yes. Stanley I feel the same way. I don't exactly blush around the others like I do when you're around, and I think that means something, right? I love you. Remember that, okay?"

He smiled, looking up at you.

"okay"

-----

And then they kissed again and lived happily ever after blah dee blady BLAHH

UGJFK THAT WAS SO BAD I WROTE IT AT 12PM LAST NIGHT

[myuninterestinglifestory]

stanley uris x reader 😒

Stanley Uris x fem!reader, Reddie

"Shut up, Richie!" Eddie screeched from his place alongside Richie in the hammock. "You're so disgusting..."

"But you like it, don't you, Eds," Richie taunted. "I mean, how can you not, you love me, right?"

"Well, yes, but I wish I didn't," Eddie said, shoving Richie out of the hammock.

"Ten minutes, Eds," Y/n stood over the boys, hands on her hips. "It's my turn in the hammock." She gave him a cheeky grin as he begrudgingly stepped out of the hammock. "Thank you." Y/n slipped into the hammock and waved Stanley over.

"I'm not getting in the hammock with you, but I will sit right here and talk to you." Stan sat on the ground, holding Y/n's hand over the side of the hammock.

"C'mon, babe, please! It's just ten minutes, you only have to lay with me for ten minutes."

"Stan doesn't even like laying with you for two minutes, I'd bet," Richie called from across the clubhouse.

"That's not true!"

"Yeah, what he said," Y/n got out of the hammock and put her hands under Stanley's arms, attempting to lift the boy into the hammock. He slumped over in her arms, making his body dead weight. "Come on, Stan! Don't be an asshole!"

"Yeah, Stan, don't be an asshole!" Richie crudely mimicked Y/n's voice. Eddie slapped the back of Richie's head, making his glasses fall to the ground. "Gee, thanks, Eds. Why don't we let Y/n hit me harder than that, shall we?"

"Shut up, douchebag," Y/n retorted, unsuccessfully lifting Stan. She pulled her arms back to her body and Stan fell to the floor, dirt coating his face.

He spit on the floor, scrubbing his tongue. "Why did you do that?" He stood up, dropping into the hammock. "Now I get to sit here all alone." Stan held up his hand and made a shooing motion.

"No." Y/n forced her way into Stan's lap. "Not all alone." She gave him a just try to get rid of me look.

"Fine," Stan put his hands on her hips and she leaned down to kiss him until she was hit in the face with a ball of paper.

"NO PDA IN THE CLUBHOUSE!" Richie yelled.

"Shut up!" Stan and Y/n replied in unison, flipping him off. Stan sat up, pulling Y/n's lips to his as Eddie gagged.