derry, maine | it imagines ✔️

1. impediments - bill denbrough

Requested?:
Yes: []
No: [✔️]

Song?: No

Bill let out a sigh as the teacher in the front of the room called his name to read a passage aloud in class. Some of his classmates groaned and the teacher shot them a stern look. Bill looked over the words before starting:

"The cuh-cuh-connections buh-between the tuh-two m-m-monarchies enabled them to be s-s-stronger," he stumbled over the words, trying not to sound too distressed. The teacher stopped him and moved on, making Bill's face turn red with embarrassment. He couldn't even read a simple sentence.

The teacher continued having the other students read, and they had a much easier time than Bill did, leaving him upset. He couldn't do anything right, could he?

"[Y/N]," the teacher spoke, catching the attention of the [h/c]-haired girl next to Bill, who has been doodling flowers on a piece of paper. Her [e/c] eyes flickered slightly, looking very anxious. "Can you read the next paragraph?"

The girl slowly nodded, unenthusiastically. She brushed a stray hair from her face and looked at her book. Bill watched as her eyes scanned the words quickly, just as he had done before. "The baughters, wait, no," she stopped and the class began chuckling. "The daughters of the wonarchs, wait, wait, monarchs formed detter, I mean better alliances mith, uh, mith, uh, no, I mean," her face became flustered and she ran her hands through her hair. The class blew up with laughter, and her face wrinkled as she read over the passage again.

The teacher held up her hand. "That's enough, [Y/N]." The girl frowned and her eyes seemed to gloss over with sadness. Bill didn't know what had happened to her while she was reading. He had been in classes with the girl for years, and knew she was smart, which was one of the many things he liked about her. Thinking about it, Bill couldn't recall a time when she read aloud in all those years of knowing her.

The [e/c]-eyed girl beside Bill rested her face in her arms until the shrill bell rang through the halls. She gathered up her things and hurried out of the room. Richie, one of Bill's friends and a walking trashmouth, stepped over to him. "Yikes, wouldn't wanna be [Y/N] right now. She was worse at reading than you, Bill," he chuckled. Bill rolled his eyes.

Richie followed Bill as he walked out of the classroom, and they met up with their other friends, Stan and Eddie. While Richie gave them a detailed, and explicit, story of what happened with [Y/N], the four friends walked outside.

They started towards their bikes, when Bill looked over and saw a distressed looking [Y/N] surrounded by kids. He went towards them and heard them taunting her. "The baughters? What a loser!" "What the hell is a mith? Go back to kindergarten, weirdo." "I think wonarchs was the worst of all. And I thought you were supposedly smart."

Bill had enough. "Hey!" he exclaimed, catching all the students' attention, including [Y/N]'s. "Duh-don't tuh-tease her like that!" It wasn't very intimidating, but the kids all laughed and walked past him, shoving their shoulders into him with muttered stuttering comments under their breath.

"Thanks," [Y/N] smiled, her cheeks a light shade of pink, "No one's ever stood up for me like that." She fiddled with her fingers. "And thanks for not teasing me during class or laughing."

It was Bill's turn to blush. "It's no p-problem, really. They tuh-tease me tuh-tuh-too because of my st-st-stutt-tter."

"I don't like reading aloud in class," she stated, and Bill nodded. "I do fine in my head or when I'm talking, but when I read, the words get all jumbled and I mess up the words." Bill gave her a confused look. "Oh, you, you didn't know?"

Bill tilted his head. "Know what?"

[Y/N] looked down at her shoes and played with the hem of her shirt. "I have dyslexia, a reading disorder. I mix up letters like 'b' and 'd' and 'm' and 'w'," she explains.

"Oh," Bill answered, which is all her could muster out, instantly feeling sorry as he remembered the trouble she had when she was reading. It did make sense now, however.

"Thanks again, Bill," [Y/N] said, kicking up the stand of her bike. "I'll see you around." She began walking away but the throws over her shoulder, "I like your stutter. It's cute."

And Bill blushed madly and whispered to himself without a single stutter, "I think you're cute too, [Y/N]." And, as if she heard him say this, she back at him, flashing a beautiful smile, which only made Bill's cheeks turn redder.