#wyatt oleff x reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilhoeforevanpeters · 7 months

Text

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.

#stanley uris #Stanley Uris #Stanley Uris x reader #Stanley Uris x fem! reader #stan uris #Stan the man #Stanley Uris angst #IT #it #it chapter one #it chapter 2 #it chapter ii #Stanley Uris x male!reader #Stanley Uris x GN!reader #loser club #wyatt oleff

29 notes · View notes

unadulterated-syd · 2 years

Text

Come Tomorrow Afternoon.

Warnings; Angst, unrequited love, weed/mentions of smoking obv.

Synopsis; Sydney Novak takes Stanley's attention from you, suddenly he's the Dina to your Syd.

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

Stan was always your number one fan. From all your shitty crushes, to the hobbies you dropped in minutes, even through the new and old friends.

He was the best friend you could ask for because of that, he was such a goofy and laid back guy, there was never drama nor tension. In a way you were his number one fan just as well.

The two of you had a weird bond to outsiders, two people with completely different lives getting along better than they did with their families. But that's how you liked it, no one could comprehend so no one could talk shit.

You weren't per-say popular, but you were definitely well-known. Stan was well known too, but for much different reasons. The Stoner-Weirdo and the seemingly normal Shy-Kid. That's what made it so weird to the outside world.

Well, that was, until Stanley's obsession with Sydney Novak came along. You had nothing against her, you never would. Stan just seemed to revolve around her, while every part of you was still revolved around him.

It was like a switch in his head flipped, from you to him, except she didn't reciprocate. It was quite obvious to everyone in the world that Syd liked Dina, well except to Dina and Stan. That's what made the situation worse.

You could never hate Syd for the situation, envious maybe, but she was just like you. The one she loved, Dina, falling for someone seemingly random, Brad, after having eyes for only her. Stan was your one and only and now that was gone for you, just as it was for her.

The last straw was the party, showing up with Stan, just for him to ditch you for Syd, then to be ditched. You should've known. This happened a lot nowadays.

You sat lying down on the hard concrete of the small basketball court, silent. You heard muffled noises, and then the door slam open and shut, followed by muttering.

You didn't bother to look up, even at the mentioning of your name, "Y/n..?" Stanley Barber. God he had the absolute worse timing. You finally looked over when he sat next to you.

"Bummer party, huh?" He asked, messing with his blazer pockets, seemingly in search of a blunt. "Yeah, guess so. What went wrong for you, Barber?" You turned your head in his direction, knowing his answer would have something to do with Syd.

"Syd and Dina ditched, then I couldn't find you. Don't want to go home, cus' dad, don't want to stay cause people." He sighed, fumbling to find a lighter.

You shared a lopsided smile with him before reaching into his breast pocket, "You put it in here earlier."

"Thanks," His voice was muffled, due to the blunt hanging between his lips, he didn't grab the lighter, simply shuffling forward in order to get you to light it, which you did.

"What's wrong with you then?" He looked at the ground between his legs. "Dunno, was hoping to spend more time with you i guess." You shrugged, keeping your own eyes on the sky. "Me why didn't you just say that, silly?"

"Its not really been that easy to talk to you lately, Barber." You hummed, seeing his puzzled look from the corner of your eye. "Don't give me that look, have you not noticed? Stan you went from number one me friend, everything together, to number one Syd fan. I'm only around when you can't convince her to stay."

"Y/n, it's really just a crush.. I didn't know it affected you that much." He whispered, scared of confrontation. You didn't want to blow up on him, and you wouldn't. Because it wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to Syd.

"Stan, look. I love you, but Syd doesn't like you back, she will never like you back. And it has nothing to do with you, you're awesome, but she likes girls, she's in love with Dina. People do love you Stan, god people have crushes on you too, you just chose the one who can't reciprocate."

"No one has crushes on me, name one person-" he started, in denial of the who Syd in love with Dina thing. "Me, Barber, me. I love you, I have a crush on you. There."

"Me?" he looked at you, more confused looking than ever. He was high when he came, and he was even higher now, of course he was confused. Maybe this would never mean a thing come tomorrow afternoon.

Maybe that's all it'd ever be. Nothing.

#stanley barber #ianowt #stanley barber x reader #syd novak #dina #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #angst #blurb #unrequited love

241 notes · View notes

lemon-boy-stan · 4 years

Text

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!

#stanley uris x reader #stanley uris wallpaper #stanley uris smut imagine #stanley uris imagine #the quiet ones #stanley uris x fem reader #stanley uris smut #stanley uris angst #stanley uris x you #stanley uris x y/n #stanley uris fluff #wyatt oleff x reader #wyatt oleff imagine #wyatt oleff x reader angst #wyatt oleff x reader fluff #andy bean x reader smut #andy bean x reader #andy bean x reader angst #andy bean imagine

176 notes · View notes

sleepyimpala · 4 years

Text

dating stanley uris includes

dealing with him being kinda annoyingly paranoid sometimes

him being VERY patient

MUCH more patient than usual

tbh if you were richie or even eddie he would’ve slapped you already or walked right out of there, no explanation

stan is a very good tutor tho tbh

lots of study dates

being the quiet, cute, shy couple everyone ships

no doubt bev and mike planned your wedding 100 YEARS in advance lmao

arguments between you guys and the group over who’s more clingy lmao

ok we all know stan’s a touchy boyfriend

there is a LOT of hand holding

you ride with him on his bike SO MUCH now that the others forgot you had one

stan making you feel a little less insecure about yourself

“it’s funny how y/n is such a messy person and stan’s always cleaning up after her,”

stan teaches you a lot of stuff about birds

“One day they’re going to be famous for that book they wrote about birds let me tell you that,” (probably beverly)

stan making mixtapes for you and getting frustrated with it

stan definetly helps you with your panic attacks tho

and depression/self harm (triggering content sorry should’ve warned you)

stan’s better than therapy tbh

he likes to line your shoes up

and tie your shoelaces for you

I THINK STAN HAS OCD

his blue shirt is your favourite one

you’re not very big on pda tbh

like there are forehead kisses and stuff like that

and sitting in his lap a lot

getting him to read to you

indie music is your aesthetic

Also why do i feel like stanley would date a character played by Taissa Farmiga’s younger sister or something tbh

stan thinks you look cute in blue sweaters

asking him to write lyrics on your favourite converse because let’s face it, his handwriting is WAY neater than yours

writing poetry

your fear being something emotional rather than a physical fear like spiders, so pennywise messes with your head more than the rest of the losers

you are a VERY big target tbh when it comes to the clown

Stan gets SO pissed at the fucker ^^ tho

stanley being the only one who can calm you down if you wake up screaming/have a nightmare

he calls you ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ or 'princess’ when he does this^^

doesn’t call you princess any other time cause he knows youll slap him

except maybe during sex

“shh, baby, it’s ok, nothings going to hurt you,”

stan is kinda protective

he’s more protective tho when you get bullied or attacked by pennywise

“get the fuck off my girlfriend, you asshat,”

lots of photos taken together with a polaroid camera that are all stuck on your wall

journaling with him at the quarry

dates where y'all just look at birds or have picnics at the quarry

surprisingly, stan kisses first

he likes to push your hair back

like loose strands

ok that’s it

#stanley uris x reader #stanley uris #stanley uris angst #stanley uris x abused reader #stanley uris x reader angst #dating stanley uris includes #wyatt oleff x reader #wyatt oleff angst #wyatt oleff x reader angst #it 2017 #losers club #stanley uris imagine

57 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

Text

Not So Great / Stanley Barber Imagine

Request: Hey love! Could you please do a Stanly Barber imagine, it’s set at the end of season 1 and after the whole head incident she watches as everyone runs but she runs over to Stan to see if he’s okay (maybe she could know about Sydney’s powers?).

Yess @confusedmilcc I’m so excited to write for my other Stanley XD <3

Comments are much appreciated!

Boy, what a scream that was.

Madison Block was the first to start screaming, of course. It was the sort of noise that would have made the hair stand straight up on the back of your neck, if you had been able to pay attention, of course. All you could think, in that singular moment, as Jake Hill elbows into you and knocks you back onto the auditorium floor was ‘he punched Stanley, that bastard.’

Pulling bits of pink string and whatever other flickers of decoration lay on your fingers, off, it hadn’t even hit you yet that it was his head who had exploded. The screams were only growing louder, more piercing, screams of hysteria and disbelief - bordering on terror.

The school would never forget this dance, that’s for sure. No matter how much they may want to.

She ran, Sydney did. Ran as fast as she could. She didn't know if the police were still behind her or not, in fact, she didn't want to find out. His blood left a sick trail, droplets of crimson falling to the ground as she kicked off her shoes and kept on running down the street, a street she had walked up everyday of her life. She hoped the rain would come and wash it away, conceal her path, hide her away so no one could ever find her again

The wind doesn’t howl, instead it’s a different kind of horrifying: stiflingly silent as the students push past each other, tripping and tearing up expensive dresses they would never dare to wear again, shoving past each other, hustling and bustling down the corridors and out through the school gates as fast as they could go. The monotone buzz of several-hundred voices hummed like an orchestra as you stumbled to your feet, taking one step forward, and then another, making your way towards Stanley Barber.

He still lay there, in his light blue suit you had helped him pick out in town a couple of weeks ago. You were apprehensive when he pulled it off the rack, but with one eye roll and a small smirk, he had won you over. Holding it up by the hanger, he bowed at you from in front of the mirror, and you could do nothing but grin helplessly as you watched his curls bounce over his forehead, reflecting the warm light of the afternoon.

‘I can pull it off, Y/n.’

‘You can pull anything off, Stanley. That was never in doubt.’ You prod him in the shoulder as you continue, ‘even that horrible bowling shirt you’re wearing right now.’

He sighed dramatically as he placed a hand on your shoulder, not noticing the way you had stilled. The cashier huffed silently at the both of you, continuing to straighten out another row of dress shirts nearby, but all you could feel was Stanley’s warm breath against your cheek.

‘What a world we live in, Y/n, where a man can be teased so relentlessly for dressing as cool as he does.’

Little did he know that that same jacket would soon be lying on the floor, covering a man still flickering in and out of consciousness, the colour making the bloody trail as obvious as the nose on his face. It was already browning with those sickly matted clumps that could be fragments of what was once human. Clamping your hands down on his shoulders, you start to drag Stanley away back towards the bleachers where the two of you had been sitting only moments before. You wished the two of you had just stayed there, hand in hand as you watched the rest of the school dance by. Sure, the redness of your cheeks would have started to burn, and the side glances of Stanley would have begun to make you squirm uncomfortably, but the way his thumb brushed over the inside of your palm was a hell of a lot better than this.

Before his legs had managed to get a meter away from the carnage, you felt a hand clamp down on your arm, and a shaky voice rise from the pale, clammy face of your best friend.

‘You haven’t seen my sunglasses have you? I think I could use them right now.’

You nearly slap him for joking at a time like this, but as Stanley rises unsteadily to his feet, you can’t help but nearly cry out in relief.

‘Yeah, your face isn’t looking so great.’

The bruise that had begun as a purple stain above his eyebrow had sunk into the socket itself, and so now it had the appearance of a black eye.

‘Eh, I’ve had worse. What the hell happened when I was out?’

You say nothing in reply, but Stanley gets the message. Slowly, with almost a knowing grimace on his face, he follows your eyes to where they’re trained behind his back, gulping slightly as he catches sight of Brad.

‘His face looks worse.’

You only slap him on the shoulder.

‘Ow!’ He sighs before covering his eyes with his hand. ‘Syd?’

‘Syd.’

‘We gotta go, now. One thing I’ve learnt from comics, is that nothing good ever happens when the superhero runs away by themselves.’

His eyes showed the kind of gentle concern you wish he would show to you. He senses your discomfort, and lays his hand lightly on your shoulder, wiping off a drop of blood. He left his hand there and spoke with such a soft voice you felt his words calming you more by the way they were said than the actual words.

‘Okay, you get all that? We need to grab the journal first. Stay right here.’

Stanley disappeared for a second, before the two of you were out and into the empty hallway. It felt different today. Along the walls are balloons pinned on with cheap tacks, many of them already withering. Their colours are garish in the bold strip lights and from some dangle curled ribbons. It looks like a toddler's birthday party minus the cake and gifts, almost haunting in its vacant pleasantness, but the two of you keep going until you reach the edge of the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As you walked, your footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of you in the cold ground.

‘Stanley, this is crazy!’

Under the moonlight, the street into the school lay still; the heat of the day had been replaced by a cool breeze, and all the students had run home. Stanley moved between the pools of streetlight, almost silent until he reached the sidewalk. A pair of headlights came bouncing over the hill, blinding him temporarily before passing and disappearing, but it’s enough to jolt him.

You let go of Stanley’s tugging hand, and he stops, turning around to look at you, almost shocked.

‘We need to go home, Stanley, please. Just let me drive you home. Where’s your car?’

Stanley froze. All he could think of, when he imagined home, was his dad chugging a beer to it's very last drop. He always went for another bottle. He always mistimed it, when he tried to sneak out. When he tried to come out of his room. He always managed to come out when he was on his last bottle. And that was always when he felt the need to discipline his son, to stop him becoming ‘soft’, as he liked to put.

‘You know I can’t do that, Y/n.’

‘The police are going to be here soon, Stanley. We can’t help her! Shit, we don’t even know where she’s gone!’

When you came to a stop in front of him, your eyes were on the floor, scared at what you might see when you looked up. You really, really hoped he wasn’t already gone in his crappy little car, driving far away from you and towards her. You were snapped out of it, and into shock by a finger placed under your chin, tilting it up gently until you could feel his steady breathing against your forehead.

‘Y/n please...I’m going to tell you a secret, right. I’m scared, Y/n, terrified, more than I’ve ever been, but we have got to help her. Sure, she may have been a jackass, but she’s our friend, and I really, really need you now. I can’t do this without you.’

You chew on your lip for a second, gazing up into his eyes as they start to brim over with tears.

‘For you, Stanley Barber, anything.’

Please support me on Kofi!

374 notes · View notes

lavenderruris · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

(*) - smut

LOADING... ██████████████]99%

{COMING SOON}

#stanley #uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #x reader #smut #fluff #skz angst #wyatt #oleff #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #IT #Losers club #losers club x reader #lavenderruris

34 notes · View notes

sejanusbaby · 5 years

Text

Stanley Uris + Chubby!Reader

A/N: Stanley is my mf baby. I will never stop loving him.

Anonymous asked: Stan and a self-conscious and chubby Fem!Reader, please!! -🌻

Warnings: None, this is all fluff. Maybe slight angst.

You and Stanley have known each other since you both were kids.

You had always been on the chubbier side, compared to the other girls you knew, and it always found a way to make you feel bad.

Stanley never understood how you could hate the way you look.

As time passed and you both grew much older, the relationship blossomed into a romance.

Stanley is always there to shut down any negative comments you have about yourself or that others have about you.

He loves to cuddle with you every single chance that he gets.

His favorite thing to do is grab your thighs or wrap his arms around that perfect waist of yours that he loves.

“Baby, you’re perfect.”

He praises you every second he gets to, telling you how gorgeous you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Anytime you were exposed to him, whether it be a bath or shower, the pool, or in bed, you always caught him staring at you in complete awe.

“What are you looking at, Uris?”

“Fucking hell, Y/N. How did I get so lucky?”

He shows you off any chance that he gets to, he loves to let everyone know that to you’re his.

Sometimes when you’re feeling down about the way you look, he comes back into the room with Disney movies in hand, along with blankets, snacks, drinks, and all of his love and affection for you.

“If you ever call yourself ugly again, I’ll cry for the 30th time tonight, Y/N. I swear to God.”

He holds you every single night, pressing kisses to your neck and cheek, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Every night before you doze off, Stanley will gentle stroke your arms and back and talk softly about how much he loves you, and how much your friends love you.

“I love you, the Losers love you, your family loves you. You’re so important, Y/N. Never forget that. No matter how you look or what you think you look like, we all love you.” He would whisper.

Pressing a warm kiss to your forehead before falling asleep next to you.

#stanley uris x reader #smut #fluff #imagine #headcanon #it chapter two #x reader #angst #stanley #wyatt oleff #andy bean

220 notes · View notes

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years

Text

Birds ~ Stan Uris (Part 4)

Word Count: 2364

Anon: Pidge

Warnings: Basically Stan gets majorly pissed and takes it out on the reader so um... yelling. insulting. cussing. aggression. onesided arguing. Just a lot of hate and hurt and emotion and ANGST!!

MASTERLIST

I just wanna watch the birds up there; track the migratory patterns that they flow. I wanna watch them from my chair with my binoculars, my latte, and my phone.

Stan had just had a really bad day.

He'd stayed up late last night to catch up on homework because he'd had his usual homework time wasted by his dad, who had spent two hours half lecturing and half just screaming at Stan about the B and a C he'd got in English and Government. Stan had the classes with Y/n and spent most of it thinking about or talking to them. The classes were boring and he was having a hard time keeping up anyway, especially when the teachers were so dumb. His English teacher, despite what they were supposed to be teaching, kept making grammatical errors on the board and it fully erasing pen marks and would only yell at him if he pointed it out. In Government, the teacher had hidden agendas and was trying to teach the kids in the class who to vote for instead of teaching them facts about what happened and about who was who. It pissed Stan off so much that not even Y/n could calm him down.

It REALLY hadn't been helping that recently he just hadn't been able to get Y/n out of his head, especially because they had missed the last hang out for birdwatching because their parents were taking them to the dentist for their annual checkup. Y/n had tried to work around it but their parents had made it a hard no. Y/n had explained the whole thing after lunch the previous day and Stan had been in a bad mood ever since. Put on top of that the getting yelled at ad his slipping grades and his frustrations in class...

Maybe it would even be safe to say that it had been a bad week. A bad few weeks.

Otherwise, Stan would have NEVER reacted like this.

He wasn't or to lose his temper when it included his friends other than when it was Richie. Even then, it was usually playful or him goading Richie on or just being generally sarcastic. He didn't hate Richie and he tried as much as possible not to give off anything that would suggest he did. Richie would take it to heart and believe that Stan hated him for months before anyone could convince him otherwise.

With Y/n, that chance of being angry dropped even more. It dropped to zero, actually. Or he would have thought since they made him so warm and comfortable and happy. Not today though. Today they made him go from irritated and bothered to full-on murderous.

Stan was trying to keep his mouth shut, but he was hypersensitive to all the little ticks they had. Pulling the grass, biting their lips, bouncing their leg, tapping their foot. How could he have ever thought they were quiet? Their hair was messy, just out of place from the way they'd styled it when they'd woken up. Their shirt was wrinkly, just a little, and it made Stan want to strangle them. They didn't sit up straight and the small clicking noises they were making with their tongue - even though their mouth was closed, muffling it - was setting Stan on edge even more.

Then they SPOKE.

The skies had been completely clear. Y/n had dug out a sandwich as lunch neared and Stan was refusing to move, eyes on the sky and body rigid with raging anger. Y/n held out her hand and he looked over for a second. "I brought you sandwich today!" Y/n announced with a smile that shouldn't have been there. Stan was upset and the birds weren't coming and they should NOT have been smiling. Instead of answering them, he simply returned his attention to the sky. Sensing he was upset, Y/n didn't push it again, shrugging it off and eating the sandwich themself. As they ate, they pushed the food into their cheek and quietly wondered aloud, "I wonder where they are today..." That drove Stan even more crazy. They were talking with their fucking mouth full what the hell?! REALLY?! After a second, Y/n pulled out a little twist cap bottle of juice. "Do you want water or juice today?" They asked Stan, whose jaw was now clenched so hard that pain flared through his cheek, making him flinch. When he still didn't answer, Y/n frowned. "Stan are you okay? You seem really upset and I-"

Stan finally snapped. Smacking Y/n's hand out of the air as they reached for him, he pushed to his feet and turned sharply towards Y/n with wide, wrathful eyes. "Just. Shut. UP!" He screamed. Y/n's eyes went wide and they recoiled, lips parting in shock. "How stupid ARE YOU? Can't you see that this isn't going to work out? Did you really have to go and ruin the ONLY thing I have left? GOD, Y/n, I knew you were nice and oblivious and I'm sure you want to be friends with all of us but not everyone likes you and this is MY space. This is my peace and quiet away from Bill's bossiness and Richie's spazziness and Eddie's hovering and Ben's poeticness and Mike's... Mike's..." He shook his head. "Mike! And you! This is my time to be alone int he quiet and watch the fucking goddamn birds- are you so separate to not be alone and have everyone like you that you can't just leave me ALONE?" He huffed, running a hand through his air and trying to calm down as he breathed deeply. "Just... leave me alone." He turned away, swallowing hard.

What he doesn't see is Y/n watch him, their heart shattering into a million pieces because they had gotten their hopes up. A tear and then two and then three fell down their face and Y/n stood shakily, wiping them away hurriedly. "I'm sorry," they whispered, their voice cracking and shaking with so emotion that Stan might as well have been slapped he was so suddenly awakened and aware of what he had just said and who he had just said it to. Y/n turned around, grabbing the handle of their icebox and taking it with them as they walked away, head on their feet as they watched their steps, trying not to trip as their vision was blurred by tears.

Stan turned around, eyes wide as he watched Y/n go. He felt sick to his stomach, but just stood and watched Y/n leave the park, put their icebox in their trunk before getting in their car and driving away. He had no idea how to sort his emotions or what to say to possibly make it all okay so he just watched, horrified and slowly filling with the most intense self-loathing he'd ever felt as Y/n never looked back. Not even once.

Trying to spot a lark in the park, parked in nature all alone...

Stan was nervous even before the time marked Y/n late but now that it's almost lunch and they still haven't come, Stan is about to explode. The last while they'd been busy with school so they hadn't seen each other at all, which had left Stan with no opportunities to make up with Y/n or even see where they stood as of now. He hoped with everything he had that Y/n would show, but he was doubting they would before it was obvious that they weren't.

He didn't even wait for lunch before he goes home.

That night he had a dream.

Stan didn’t know if it was sunlight or inside, artificial light, but Y/n made it look good as they smiled, glittering and glowing next to him. Their smile was brilliant and their body fit perfectly against his. He couldn’t look away or stop smiling, his insides warm and soft. He couldn’t determine if he was relaxed or if his heart and stomach and muscles were all twisted up with intense emotion and his heart raced and rammed so hard against his ribs he wondered if his bones would break and it would burst out, bloody and beating and demanding her to hold and cherish it.

They were talking, but he couldn’t hear the words they spoke. Just saw the way their curved lips formed words, hands moving to illustrate whatever they were sharing, eyes focused at the whatever was above them, be a sky or ceiling- Stan didn’t care. He was too focused on their proximity and warmth and how absolutely... pretty they looked. Maybe it wasn’t a fitting description, pretty, but Stan couldn’t think of a more fitting word. The light seemed to bend just to flatter them more, the air around them moving to take Stan’s away and give it all to Y/n. The elements themselves seemed to love Y/n as much as Stan did.

Love them.

“I love you.”

Y/n abruptly stopped, their eyes widening as they looked at Stan slowly. They waited only an extra second, but Stan felt no fear or anxiety. Which was strange, for him. He always felt anxiety. Now, though, as Y/n blinked and a smile slowly grew on their face as the world seemed to become even brighter and warmer, Stan felt nothing but goodness and peace. “I love you too,” Y/n whispered back.

Without even thinking about it, Stan pulled Y/n closer, their noses brushing as his hand cupped Y/n’s face gently, tugging them closer to him with a tenderness he had only when handling injured birds he stumbled upon.

Unlike during his confession, there was no hesitation as he went to kiss them. Y/n responded immediately, leaning forward as eagerly as he was. It was slow and sweet still, both of them grinning at the other’s finally realized feelings. Stan loved Y/n. They loved him back.

Their lips touched and the Earth seemed to shift, as if all the pieces of the universe had finally come together. Everything was right again. Perfectly correct. It was like walking into his room at the end of the day, clean and organized and everything meticulously placed after being at school with his messy friends (especially Richie) and the even messier students, who weren’t taking precautions to appease Stan or because they didn’t have Eddie, who wasn’t OCD like Stan but still desperately appreciated cleanliness.

Y/n leaned back, eyelids heavy as they forced them open. “Stan...” He hummed at his name, following with his eyes as Y/n moved over him, a leg on either side of his hip as they leaned down, pressing their lips together again but this time in a completely different way. Hair brushed skin as Y/n straddled Stan, reaching over to first interlace their fingers and then pull their four hands over their heads, Stan’s elbows bent and Y/n’s holding them up to hover over the boy laying underneath.

Stan could feel Y/n’s smile and he wondered if they had taken as much note of his as he had of theirs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, awed by his own loose tongue and the wonderful ease for which he could finally say the things he had always wanted to. His hand came up, the tips of his pointer and middle finger running along Y/n’s temple, tracing their hair line.

Y/n rolled their eyes. “Yeah, okay, Stanley.” Stan frowned at the doubt in their voice and Y/n leaned down, kissing it away until he smiled again. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

They laughed and then Y/n leaned down again, neither able to get enough of each other. This kiss lingered, though, and suddenly deepened as Y/n turned their head, their lips fitting snugly against Stan’s. Instinct took over as Y/n began to kiss him in a totally knew way, and he kissed her back with a fierceness he did not know he had. The hand that had not been on Y/n’s face now rose to their waist where Stan gripped their hip, pulling their body against his.

The pressure of pressing together made Stans breath catch in his throat and he nearly choked. Y/n reacted without hesitation again and Stan was beginning to realize that maybe the shock that Y/n had initially been caught up in when Stan had first acted was a rarity and from here on out, Stan would have his hands full.

Y/n proved his point true by suddenly rolling their hips, grinding against him. Stan grunted. “D-don’t do that.”

Immediately Y/n stopped, looking up and Stan swallowed another groan as space found its way between them in Y/n’s concern. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want t-“

But Stan had already seen that despite what he’d initially thought because of how suddenly vulnerable he’d unexpectedly been, he very much wanted Y/n in every single way at that moment. He wanted to wake up next to them with morning kisses and breakfast and seeing them in his clothes. He wanted to see them in sweats as they stuffed their face like at lunch, after they hadn’t showered for two days because they’d been frantically busy and life just caught up with them and now they were in Stan’s uncomfortable zone, shoving their face and Stan didn’t recoil- he laughed. He wanted to see them clean, too. Preferably clean as much as possible because if he was going to be with Y/n that meant that he would be interacting with their cleanliness- or lack thereof. He could make allowances though.

Wait what had he been thinking about?

His hand suddenly tightened on Y/n’s waist and Stan blinked. Oh, right. Y/n looked at him with hesitant confusion, hallways between worry and apology. He suddenly jerked them close with both his hands. “I want you,” Stan whispered. “In every way.”

Y/n chuckled. “You’re going to be a handful.” The words were said in the kind of way that Richie would cackle at, all too smoothly responding, ‘Good thing I have two hands.’ But Stan wasn’t Richie and all he could think was:

He had just been thinking that about Y/n.

They went to kiss again, about to delve into the place after just kissing and laughing and heart eyes and onto deeper, more intimate, less innocent territory.

But then Stan woke up.

Tag List: @campcampie

74 notes · View notes

wrinkledparchment · 6 years

Text

Unrequited // Richie Tozier x Reader

Summary: The reader is desperately in love with Richie Tozier, someone who is currently seeing another girl. After seeing him in front of the other girl’s house, she breaks down and Stan forces Richie to talk to her, which ended in Richie saying something he really didn’t mean.

Word Count: 1,611 A/N: More Richie! I came up with the concept after listening to hostage by Billie Eilish and I’ve never really tried my hand at something with a sad ending. I might actually consider a part 2 if you guys want one, so let me know. Enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Unrequited love, the reader being just a bit psycho with a touch of yandere, Richie being fuckin’ surprised by that shit, swearing (it’s a Richie fic lmao who’s surprised), Richie being a dumbass (mostly at the end, but he’s always a dumbass)

You thought you were going insane. Spending all day thinking of Richie Trashmouth Tozier when you knew he hadn’t wasted an hour of his time on you. Your legs sprawled out on your bed, your head leaning back into the mattress; you wished you could deprive yourself of him. Of thinking about him. Of loving him.

But really, that’s not what you wanted. You wanted him to yourself, to have him completely and utterly yours. You wanted to snatch his soul and keep it with you every second of every day. You wanted him to never leave your side. You knew you couldn’t do that though. If not, you might as well crawl inside of him and live there forever. Your love was something so deep, so intense, you might as well capture him and hold him hostage.

The dark grey clouds complimented your mood and made you feel even more empty. Every second you couldn’t see him, you might as well be dead. You felt hollow without him. You sighed, tossing and turning; until you heard his laugh.

Sparks ignited in your chest and you bolted to your window, but alas, he was not walking towards you. Your head fell against the glass, watching as he stood in the middle of the street holding his bike. You tried desperately to tear your eyes away from him, hoping that maybe you could just stop the feeling of desperation claw at your throat and heart.

Upon closer inspection, he was holding roses. And standing in front of Stacy’s house. Fuck, fuck fuck. Now you knew you should’ve worked harder at prying your eyes away from the scene. You rushed to your bed and covered yourself with every blanket you could find, pretending that with enough shelter the world wasn’t real and it was all a dream.

Knocking at your door, Stan was surprised when he saw a big, gigantic ball in your bed, and even more, when he heard wails coming from it.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Stan asked cautiously, and slowly, your head emerged from the pile.

The look in your eyes made Stan’s heart ache and shatter. It was utterly hopeless, completely desperate, filled with pure sadness. Your cheeks were tear-stained and your nose red from crying. Stan never thought he’d see the day where rather than looking like you were filled with joy, you were instead miserable.

“Stan, just… what’s up?” you asked, sniffling. Stan winced as your voice broke, exhausted from the stress of sobbing.

“Richie was about to come and talk to you about something but I thought I should check on you first,” Stan stated, and at the mention of Richie’s name, he saw both light and darkness in your eyes.

“I’ll go get him, okay?” Stan said, but before you had the chance to interject, he was out and running down to Richie. Noticing Stan looked absolutely crazy, Richie furrowed his brows. He was no longer holding the roses, he had already given them to Stacy.

“She needs you, Richie,” Stan said and quickly shoved Richie towards the stairs and ran out the door.

Stan ran to his house, and he wanted to sob just like you had. Stan was definitely very emotionally stable, but seeing you… it made him want to take half of your pain and let the two of you endure it together. Better yet, take it all away and suffer it himself, just so he could see your happy smile again.

Richie looked confused before determining that something was very, very wrong. He booked it up the stairs, willing himself to go faster. He stopped himself from kicking down your door; because him being too energetic would make you scared, and he didn’t want that.

He slowly creaked open your door, and he saw you, blankets were strewn all over the floor, and your face stained with tears. He shut the door gingerly and walked over to you.

He met your eyes and saw the same look Stan had seen, for only two seconds. Your eyes flashed with love, adoration, and infatuation before they flashed back to the hollow orbs they were. You reminded yourself just what you’d seen, and all happiness faded out of you. Though your mind recognized everything, your heart didn’t. Your heart still begged for Richie to be closer, for him to be yours and only yours.

“Y/N, are- are you alright?” Richie asked though it was obvious he knew the answer. Seeing his best friend (just that, and only that) so broken made his eyes flood with tears.

“Y-Yeah,” you started, lying through your teeth, something you didn’t want to do to Richie. You never wanted to lie to him, but at this moment, you didn’t know what else you could do.

“We both know that’s not true, Y/N,” Richie countered, and yes, his statement was a fact. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were not okay. That you were hurting, aching.

“It’s a long story, Rich,” you muttered. That was also a fact. You had a long, complicated story about how your feelings for the Trashmouth came to be.

Shaking off the overwhelming guilt that rested on your shoulders, you looked up to him and smiled something forged, an imitation of what used to be. You could no longer smile genuinely knowing that the person you would never stop loving, the person you worshipped like a god, was not yours. He would never be, you understood that.

“Did you ask Stacy out?” you questioned, changing the subject in Richie’s mind, though it was not really a subject change. It had everything to do with what you were feeling, and it had everything to do with this conversation.

“Yeah, we’re going to the diner on Saturday,” Richie said, sitting at the end of your bed. “I was going to take her to the arcade, but she wanted the diner.”

You asked your brain to get rid of all the thoughts floating through your head, but there was one that was too stubborn. One that would not go away.

She’s not the one for him.

It was selfish of you to think that you were the one for him as well, but at least you had evidence to cite. Stacy and your beloved had nothing in common, besides the fact that they were both gorgeous human beings. No wonder Richie had a crush on Stacy, you knew that you couldn’t compare to her looks.

“Y/N, I asked you a question,” Richie waved his hand in front of your face, trying to get your attention. You came crashing back down into reality and your face looked at his with question.

“I asked you why you were upset,” Richie stated.

Something bubbled inside of you - the fury and rage you felt towards Stacy, towards Richie’s feelings for her. It made you buckle and contort under its overwhelming power over you. It made you snap at Richie, something you’d never done to him, and something Richie was not prepared for.

“Why don’t you go ask your girlfriend, huh? Why don’t you go ask her why I’m so upset about you two being together? I’m sure she knows perfectly well why I hate her with every fibre of my being! Because she fucking has you.” you spat, and Richie found himself backing away.

The only time you’d showed this much aggression was at Henry when he threatened Richie. He remembers that day clearly, the day you beat Henry Bowers up with all your might, gave him a broken nose, and also made him stay away from the Losers as long as you were with them. That was the day Richie knew just how angry you could get, but never in a million years did he think it would be directed at him.

If there were gears in the human brain, Richie’s would be turning as fast as they could go. He was calculating just exactly what you meant. Your last sentiment repeated in his mind. “Because she fucking has you.”

It all clicked in his mind; the way you looked at him, how protective you were over him, how you always looked at Stacy with disdain and disgust. He knew why now. You didn’t just like him, you loved him. And that was an indisputable, irrefutable fact.

“Just tell me, Y/N…” Richie said in denial. Did you really love him? He’d spent years pining after you and after finally getting over you and moving on, he found out that his love was requited after all.

“I love you, Richie,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands. This was not how you thought you would tell him. You’d always fantasize about one day finally being confident enough to tell him, and he would kiss you and ask to be your boyfriend. Oh, how this was so different.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Richie started, slowly backing away towards your bedroom door.

Richie was loyal to Stacy now, and no matter how much he wanted to hug you and tell you that he loved you too, that he always had and that he always will, he needed time.

His mind was running on overdrive, wondering how the hell to respond but instead, words that he truly didn’t mean came out of his mouth. Words that he didn’t believe himself, but words that you wholeheartedly did.

“But I don’t love you back,” he finished, opening your door and backing out of it hurriedly, running out of your house and to Bill’s.

But he most definitely did love you back. He wished he would’ve told you that.

165 notes · View notes

fr0gheart · 6 years

Text

summary: finn teaches you how to play fortnite

a/n: i really like this fluffy imagines ive been making. AND WATCH THE VIDEO ITS SO FUNNY!! so enjoy

songs: goodnight n go by Ariana Grande

normal girl by sza

michuul by duckwrth

masterlist ~ prompts

give me feedback on this imagine

One day you would just be watching finn playing forkknife😂

And like he would be so like into it

And you being the petty ass that you are would crave for attention

So you would do anything to distract him

( *wink* you know what I’m saying)

You would like sit on his lap

And run your hand through his curls

because finn is such a sucker for it

and finn being finn would just ignore you

ugh and you would get so frickin annoyed and you’d just walk away

you’d probably go live and vent to your fans

about finn ignoring you and not talking to you

then you would like realize a way to get him to talk to you

is to like ask him to teach

you really wouldn’t know anything about forkknife so you would like google it

and after you knew what it was you would probs go back to finn’s room to see him still playing

and you sat beside him and said in probably the cutest voice known to man

‘ finnie can you teach me ‘

And MAN finn would like look away from his game at you with the biggest smile.

‘ yeah baby sure ‘

And if you knew that that was all it took you would have done it a lot sooner

Okay so you’re first time playing the game you would literally NOT know what to do

it would also not help that finn would be screaming at you because you weren’t getting the game

‘ Y/N KILL HIM ‘

‘ How do I kill ‘

and finn would just be so annoyed

and like you’d start laughing when finn got frustrated with you

and it would just be a huge mess

but eventually you would get it

and like when you killed your first person

finn would be so frickin happy

and he would like leave kisses all over your face

‘ haha finnie stop it ‘

‘ no i love you ‘

and you guys would just be really cute and like you’d sometimes play duos with him and it would just be really nice

and like finn would always be so mean to you when playing

and like you guys would have lots of jokes

and you would finally be so happy

because you and finn could do something together

and you just loved spending time with you

request an imagine

332 notes · View notes

hoekinsmoved · 6 years

Photo

this is the softest, most precious photo of wyatt oleff in my possession

#wyatt oleff #wyatt #wyeet #it movie #it 2017 #stanley uris #stan uris #wyatt oleff x reader #waytt x reader #wyatt oleff imagine #wyatt imagine #stanley uris x reader #stan uris x reader #stanley uris imagine #stan uris imagine #noodle boi #angst #angsty boi #eye roll

797 notes · View notes

satoruvt · 7 years

Text

we’re gonna be alright

i’m sorry in advance. thats all i have to say

pairing → stan uris x reader

word count → 776

request/prompt → 20: “don’t tell me not to worry because i’m going to do that anyways.” // 7: “what you did was stupid and dangerous and scared the hell out of me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you hear Richie say, panting and out of breath. Everyone else is wheezing as well, tired already from the fighting.

IT sees that - sees that everyone is tired and worn down. You know that you’re not going to win, not the way this is headed. Memories are flashing wildly - jumping from the cliff into the quarry, eating ice cream with the rest of the losers on a hot summer day, smiling and laughing and stargazing and holding each other. A memory of Stan laughing at something you said lingers longer than the others, and you’re close to crying.

Memories of Stan are illuminating your mind now - memories like holding him and kissing him and dancing with him under the stars. They’re little things, tiny things, but they hold such a special place in you.

You look around now, at everyone. They’re all ragged and torn and scared, but somehow still fearless. You turn your back to IT - something that maybe you shouldn’t - and look at them fully. Their attention is on you, now, and you smile.

You smile because you love them, because you know what you need to do. Whether it’s a good or bad thing to be a martyr, you don’t know, but you’re willing to find out.

You smile because you love him, because you want to protect him.

You meet eyes with Stan, and then you know you’re crying. He looks so worried for you, so scared and confused, and you don’t want him to look like that. He always looked simply stunning when he was smiling.

“Y/N,” Eddie says, shakily, “what are-”

You turn around, towards IT again, and try to fight the fear crawling up your throat. IT’s smiling demonically, it has been since this fight first began.

“Take me.” You say firmly. You swallow nothing, your throat is dry. Time seems to fucking stop, right there, no one’s moving or speaking or breathing.

“Take me, and… and let everyone else go. The missing kids, my friends… you take me and let everyone else walk out of here alive.”

IT grabs you, quick and harsh and painful. You wince and look back, just for a moment, and everyone is noticiably tense. Stan looks like his blood is boiling with anger.

IT’s grin widens, and you’re terrified. You’re shaking and you wish you could say you weren’t afraid, but you are, you’re so afraid. Oh, God, you’re so afraid.

“A tempting offer,” IT says, voice sending chills down your spine in the worst way.

“But I think not.”

You’re thrown to the ground hard enough that you can’t breathe, so you’re laying there gasping for air. Your head hurts. There’s something by you, by your leg, and suddenly it feels like a thousand knives are being shoved into your leg. You scream, because at this point you know it’s IT, and Jesus, it hurts.

Everything is a fast blur after that, but eventually the pain subsides to a bearable point, but you still can’t seem to breathe. It only seems like a few seconds, but then everyone is around you, touching you in some comforting way. You notice Richie holding your hand, and Eddie and Bill and Ben are looking at your leg, and you’re leaning against Bev and Mike while Stan’s right by your side. Eddie’s rambling about some infection, and you smile a bit. It sounds like him.

“Y/N?” Richie asks, and his voice is distant. You tune in soon enough, but your vision is still blurry. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sputter, nodding with a weak chuckle. Your voice isn’t all the way back. “Psh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Stan says. “Don’t tell me not to worry because I’m going to do that anyways. What you did was stupid and dangerous and scared the hell out of me.” He looks at you, and his eyes are wide and full of worry.

“I… I wanted to protect you guys,” You say, tears blurring your vision a little more than it already is. “I love you all so much, I just…” You pause, and then you look Stan straight in the eye.

“I love you,” you say, and then Stan grabs your face and pulls it towards his. It’s a little hard to kiss given your current positions and the whole situation, but you manage. You’re lifting a shaky hand to his shoulder, pulling him a bit closer with what strength you have.

Stan pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, holding you close to him. “We’re alright,” you hear him whisper. “We’re gonna be alright.”

210 notes · View notes

robinbuckleyshotgf · 2 years

Text

[🌼] introduction

[🧃] hey! my name is charlie! i’m gonna use my writing skills on the internet so thats why im here! i hope you enjoy my writing!

[🫧] my rules are very important. if you do not obey them, then it will result in me blocking you. please respect my boundaries and rules.

[🌈] rules:

~ dni if you are an nsfw blog

~ i will not write smut with minors. the only exception is if that they are aged up to over 18.

~ if you are requesting a celebrity and they have boundaries, please respect them.

~ i only do x reader. i can do female, male, trans, genderfluid, gender neutral and other genders.

~ if requesting a reader with a different gender, please specify their pronouns.

~ use your imagination!! make it silly! i really dont mind!!

~ dont sexualise me or send me weird messages in my inbox please.

[🌊] fandoms:

IT 2017- Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, Jaeden Martell, Sophia Lillis

A Series Of Unfortunate Events- Violet Baudelaire, Klaus Baudelaire, Sunny Baudelaire (platonic only), Duncan Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire, Quigley Quagmire, Malina Weissman

Stranger Things- Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Max Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jane ”Eleven” Hopper, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson, Joe Keery, Sadie Sink, Noah Schnapp, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Materazzo, Maya Hawke

Harry Potter- Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Tom Felton

Arcane: League Of Legends- Violet (Vi), Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn, Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Hailee Steinfield

My Hero Academia- Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Ochaco Uraraka, Ejiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashido, Tenya Iida

Heartstopper- Charlie Spring (Only male), Nick Nelson, Ben Hope, Harry Greene, Darcy Olsson (Only Female), Tara Jones (Only Female), Tao Xu, Tori Spring, Elle Argent, Aled Last

I Am Not Okay With This- Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber, Dina (i dont know what her last name is😭)

Metal Lords- Hunter Sylvester, Kevin Schlieb, Emily Spector, Adrian Greensmith, Isis Hainsworth

The Goldfinch- Boris Pavlikovsky, Theo Decker

[🌸] prompts:

~ Angst

”please stop lying to me.”

”i dont care.”

”please dont cry”

”what makes you think i would want to date you?”

”just shut up for once in your goddamn life!”

”am i going to die?”

“when did you fall out of love with me?”

”are you leaving me?”

” dating you was the worse mistake ive ever made.”

”loving you is a fucking death sentence.”

”i shouldnt love you, but i couldnt help it.”

”always knew that you were too damn selfish.”

”i dont know if i can look you in the eyes after what you’ve done.”

”it’s only 2.am..”

”please dont hide from me.”

”dont take another step in my direction.”

”i wish we met before they convinced you life is war.”

”you are the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

~ Fluff

”let me walk you home, hm?”

”i wanted to say i love you without stuttering. but i failed.”

”ugh i cant reach it!”

”stop being so goddamn cute.”

”you dont need all that candy, do you?”

”call me as soon as you get there.”

”did you just- throw salt at me!?” ”im not fucking possessed!”

”cuddles please!”

”hey love, can you help me out?” ”im gay and i need a few dollars”

”thats not true! my wife is a bitch and i like her very much.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

”you motherfucker! never do that again!”

” i have no idea what you are talking about.”

”what the actual fu-“ ”HEY GET OUT!”

“im only here for the dog.”

~ Smut 🌝

“come over here and make me.”

”kiss me.”

”looks like we are trapped in here for a while..”

”you heard me. take. it. off.”

”keep looking at me like that and we might not make it to bed.”

”if we werent in public right now, i would have my head in between your legs.”

”i want to taste you.”

”dont be shy now, sit on my face.”

”is that my shirt?”

“be quiet.”

”use your words, baby.”

”what if someone hears us?”

”oh fuck yes, just like that.”

“need any help with that?”

“were you just masturbating?” - “what?! no neve-“ ”do you want some help?” - “huh?”

“relax.”

”did you come?”

”shut up slut.”

~ Funny Ones🌚

”im not wearing any underwear, thought you would like to know.”

”YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILST I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

”at least we didnt break any laws this time.”

”we are literally fugitives of this state.” - “so no pizza?”

”your pretty.” - “your drunk.”

”excuse you?”

”i might of had a few shots.” - “what they mean by a few is about 20.”

”if you do that again im gonna chuck you out the window- what are you doing?” - “checking how high the drop is to see if its worth it.”

”you ate all my noodles! you’ve lost toilet paper privledges.”

”OI THATS MY HOODIE LOSER!”

”haha thats so funny!” *pulls out gun* ”say it again!”

”DUDE STOP HOGGING THE FUCKING BLANKETS!”

”your bleeding!” - “oh yeah no shit sherlock!”

”for fucks sake- MOVE!”

”hey wouldnt it be funny if we made out right now?”

[⚡️] thank you for reading! have a great day!! :))

228 notes · View notes

lemon-boy-stan · 4 years

Text

the quiet ones - 1/3

An empty bottle, a dusty basement, and a childish game of truth or dare were the curlrpits of the drama which unfolded in front of Stanley Uris' eyes.

If there were people he could blame for the hurt Y/N felt right now they would be Richie, because he wanted to play, and Beverly, for being the other girl in the basement.

Don't be ridiculous, he scolded himself. It's your fault, and you have to make things better.

"I kissed you because you're pretty, not because I like you."

Why would he say that? The girl obviously had a crush on him! Dick move, Stan, dick move!

He could still hear the silence which flew over the eight of them after he spoke those words to the blushing girl and the anger which rose in Beverly's once gleeful eyes.

She was his best friend - he felt things for her and cared what she had to say, yet still, he pushed her away from him.

And now she sat, as far away from him as possible (Richie's basement was small), knees tucked under her arms, being comforted by Bev and Bill, casually looking over at him as if to say, 'why?'

Everyone hated him - it was obvious. Even Eddie, Mike, and Ben, the least vicious ones of the group, shot him glares.

"I don't know," Beverly whispered gently. "I promise I'll talk to him, OK?"

Perhaps this was not a conversation meant for his ears, but he couldn't help himself; he didn't want her to cry any more, he hated it when she cried, it hurt him almost as much as the pain she felt.

Then why did you make her cry?!

Screamed the voice in his head, annoyed and frustrated at how stupid he was.

Y/N nodded and sniffed before resting her head in Bill's lap. God, how he wished that were him.

Stan was always the one to comfort her. He always held her close whenever she had a nightmare, reminded her that scars were beautiful and not to be ashamed, protected her from others - and herself.

Beverly approached his miserable state carefully. Stan groaned internally at this, he didn't want a lecture when he was already beating himself up!

As usual, Beverly got straight to the point - he hated that about her.

"Stan, why would you say that?" Her voice was quiet enough only so he could hear.

"I don't know," he mumbled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to," he shrugged and looked over at Y/N and Bill miserably.

"She loves you," she whispered.

"I know," his voice was dry, hoarse. He hated himself, too. "I love her, too."

"Then why didn't you tell her?!" Beverly had become impatient, the love she had for her friend exploded in a burst of fury.

"B - because," he stuttered. "Because I can't," he shook his head. "No, I can't. Sorry. She'll have to find someone else."

He was weak. He knew that now. He was weak. He wanted to kick himself. And it would hurt him enough, because he was weak.

Part 2

MASTERLIST - requests are always open!

224 notes · View notes

sleepyimpala · 4 years

Text

a melancholy romance

FANDOM: IT 2017. GENRE: angst. PAIRING: stanley uris x reader. WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of child abuse.

"Just tell me what's wrong," Stan whispered.

You shook your head.

"Y/N," the same, soft tone.

"What happened, Y/N?"

"Nothing," you shook your head once again.

"Nothing happened, Stanley, everything's fine,"

"Why do you keep lying to me?" He was hurt; upset.

"I know you're not okay, so why aren't you telling me the truth?" He whispered.

"We're supposed to be watching a movie," you cut in.

"So let's watch a movie."

He noticed the way your lip shook, the way you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears.

"Y/N!"

You flinched at his raised tone.

"Show me."

"We're supposed to be watching a movie," you trembled.

"I don't want to ruin the movie. Please,"

"I can't really watch the movie if I keep on thinking about how you're hurt," he said solemnly.

"Please," you whispered. "Stan,"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, resuming the opening credits of the film, jaw clenched, eyes darting towards you and the screen back and forth.

About halfway through the movie, there was a scene where a parent was hitting a child.

Not even that bad.

But it was enough.

Stanley was just about to fast-forward the scene but it was too late, you already saw it.

"I told you I didn't want to ruin the movie and I'm ruining it. I'm ruining it, Stan," you couldn't help the tears.

They just... they just...

"You're not ruining it, baby," he whispered. "You should've just told me..."

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

MASTERLIST (requests for stan are open)

#stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris angst #wyatt oleff x reader #wyatt oleff angst #stanley uris x abused reader #stanley uris x reader angst #it 2017 #losers club #wyatt oleff x reader angst

52 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

Text

Bully / Stan Uris Imagine

Request: Hello love! I was wondering if you could write a 2017 IT Stanley Uris where the reader is sort of in Henry’s gang and they see the lads bullying the losers so she steps in and yeah. Possibly could Stan be slightly older (15-16). Thank you. :)

Of course my darling @confusedmilcc, I hope this is okay! I’m sorry if imagines are a bit slow after this, I have some Uni stuff to do but hopefully I should be able to write as well

Warning, some strong language! The Losers are also around 15 in this one!

Summer break couldn’t have arrived any sooner for the Losers.

The last bell of the day had only just rung, but the halls of the schoolway were already filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Richie knocked his glasses back up his nose as Greta Bowie bashed into his backpack and nearly knocked him back down the stairs.

‘Yeah, and a happy summer to you too Greta! Do you wanna sign my yearbook? Dear Richie, sorry for being such a rat’s ass towards you-’

‘Beep beep Rich’, Eddie mutters as he runs up next to him, Stanley not even two steps behind as he elbows both of them out of the way to stand in the middle.

‘What do you guys want to do now?’

Laughter sounded along the halls, joined with excited conversations and shouts. Stanley ducks as a football flies above his head, between two jocks in varsity jackets. He doesn’t notice Bill run past the two lads, running past groups of high schoolers leaning with one leg pressed against the lockers, laughing and causing all kinds of ruckus.

‘I was thinking we could go and train at the arcade?’

‘I thought you guys were going to come to the B-B-Barrens with me’, Bill pipes in from where he joins at Richie’s hip.

Stanley sighs to himself, shifting his yarmulke back as Richie’s elbow knocks into it again, his arms gesturing wildly as he argues against Bill to no avail. Stepping out the school door, he blinks against the steps: there is no sky today, only a rough woollen blanket of mottled grey smothering the sky and sweltering the air in a thick dullness. Stanley shivers lightly at Eddie’s oncoming words, a sense of fear in the air that makes his heart start thumping.

‘Do you see them?’, Eddie asks, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his inhaler. ‘Bowers is waiting at the bottom of the steps.’

‘They’re probably waiting for that new kid’, Richie adds with a frown on his face.

‘Why is Y/n with them?’

Stanley folds his arms as he looks down at you. Although a familiar face around the school, and a known member of the Bowers’ gang, he had never seen you out for blood like Henry usually is. You always seemed so sweet, so different from the rest, it seemed so out of character. His heart thumped so hard that he swore it was audible, your eyes meeting for a second, and only a second. But in that moment, you had offered him a smile - only a small smile, but it was enough to make Stanley go weak at the knees.

‘No other way, I suppose’, Richie sighs. ‘We’ve got to go through them.’

‘Why are we doing this Henry? Can’t you just leave these guys alone. What’s Ben done to you?’

‘What, you have a crush on him? Shut your mouth before I shut it for you, or just leave for all I care.’

Bowers and Patrick are resting against the wooden telephone pole with faces of utter nonchalance, as if they were merely waiting for the school bus on a spring day, switchblade in hand. Henry isn't slumped at all, yet it is just as relaxed as his face. He's almost smiling, grinning perhaps is more like it, smirking as if something good were about to happen. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes are too distant for that, the only sound Patrick’s hoarse chuckle and the swish of the switchblade as he closes it once again.

You only let your eyes meet theirs for just a moment, giving a slight nod, then casting your eyes downward once more.

‘I’m just not on board with this-’

‘Shut up. Here comes fresh meat.’

‘Well, if it isn’t the fucking Losers. Nice frisbee, flamer.’

Eddie yelps as Belch grabs onto his oversized backpack and throws him backwards, managing to knock him and Richie down onto the grass in a tangled mess of bruised shins and bleeding elbows.

‘You s-s-suck Bowers!’

Henry clenched his fist, a vein popping out of his forehead.

‘You s-s-s-say something, Bi-Bi-Bi-Billy? You got a free ride this year 'cause of your little brother. Ride's over, Denbrough. For you and your friends.’

Before any of them could speak, his hand had reached out and grabbed Stanley by the corner, his eyes squeezing shut in pain. He lashes out at his hands, his collar tightening in Henry’s fist as his shirt began to ride up. He chokes as Henry leans over and licks the side of his face, and Stanley can’t help the groan of pain that leaves his mouth as he’s lifted slightly up the ground.

‘Henry, stop it! Your dad’s right over there!’

‘Yeah, well see if I care! These assholes need to pay!’

His yell was like a booming bark, it made even Patrick jump like a scared rabbit. I think he liked that. I think it made him feel mighty powerful.

Being brave isn't the same thing as being stupid. Often it pays to weigh up the pros and cons of action versus inaction. When a situation is intractable, when every move is a bad move, it can take courage to take yourself out of the equation. Right now, you can feel the fear. You take a step forwards. You feel the fear. But as you watch Stanley squirm, you take another step. Before you even know what’s happening, your hand has swung out and hit Bowers on the arm, and he lets go of Stanley in shock. Shuffling back, he bares his teeth, making as if to go for you, only stopping when he sees his dad staring at him from behind your head.

‘I’ll get you for this, Y/n. You and your loser friends.’

Rubbing your flushed nose with the back of your hand, surprise lines Stanley’s features as you come down to kneel before him, a protectiveness flaring up like hot flames.

‘Go to hell, Bowers.’

A smile twitches at Stanley’s lips as a soft ‘thank you’ bursts from them, his eyes glowing as he bashfully glances up at you. He reaches his hands out, looking at you with slight desperation behind his eyes as you hesitantly place your smaller fingers into his palm, his knuckles white as he closes his own around yours, as you pull the two of you up.

‘No problem, Stanley.’

‘I’m sorry that Bowers is angry at you now, too.’

‘Well, I’d much rather be a loser than hang out with that asshole anymore.’

130 notes · View notes