pairing: stanley uris x (fem)reader
warnings: none
word count: 1989
song preference: falling behind, laufey
requested? [yes] [no]
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅʀᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ Derry like a light sheet, bringing with it twinkling fireflies and the sugary smell of strawberries that were being grown everywhere in the rural town. [Full Name] was trying her best to make the most out of her summer, the freedom of being without school sweet as honey. Sometimes, the thought of the warm season left a bitter taste in her mouth as she remembered the past summer's events: The battle with It that everyone else in her friend group had seemed to have forgotten.
Everyone except Stanley Uris.
The Losers Club, as they called themselves, would meet everyday at each other's houses over the summer. Sometimes, a few of their members wouldn't be able to show and they would be left with only a small handful of the teenagers, but the regulars included [Name], Stanley, and Mike Hanlon. Soon after Beverly Marsh— their redheaded friend and [Name]'s only other female friend in the group— left Derry for Portland to live with her aunt, Ben Hanscom stopped showing up as much to the meetings. He still smiled and waved to his friends, still went to the quarry with them, but he wasn't as into it. He missed Beverly.
Bill Denbrough, their fearless leader, was in a sort of depressive episode this time of year. He was constantly losing his focus on the world, gazing off into the distance with watery eyes. He looked like his soul had been ripped from his fingers.
Richie Tozier, the "class clown" type of guy, was often busy at the arcade, playing Street Fighter or eating ice cream with one of his many fleeting girlfriends. He secretly missed the Losers when he wasn't with them, but he would never admit it.
Eddie Kaspbrak struggled to free himself from the prison his mother had him trapped in. He wanted to escape, to be a normal kid, to have fun like everyone else did. But he was instead stuck in an endless cycle of lying and sneaking around his mother's abusive rule.
But the Losers were still the Losers. Nothing had changed between them. Nothing astronomical. Nothing that would knock their friendship off course, send them spinning in opposite directions like tops. For now, they would simply coexist like always.
Today, it was just Stanley and [Name]. The two weren't the best of friends, but they shared some interests and enjoyed doing simple things together, like swimming in the quarry, finishing homework and studying, or exploring the overgrown parts of rural Derry. That particular day, the Losers Club planned to meet at [Name]'s house, a small two-story on a massive expanse of farmland; a green patchwork of corn, strawberry plots, and cattle fields. Every Loser but Stan had made excuses about being busy, leaving the pair alone. Stanley visited at around one o'clock, when [Name] and her mother were making lunch.
"Come on in, Stanley," [Name] said, her voice sweet and soft. Stan smiled at her kindness, and although he hated when people called him by his full name, he let it slide this time.
Mrs. [Last Name] smiled at the boy as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, pulling at the end of his blue shirt nervously. She gestured to the table, covered in a red gingham tablecloth and adorned with an assortment of little knick-knacks that the younger siblings of [Name] had collected; Acorns, ends of the ears of corn, odd leaves and drying flowers, bird feathers (which Stan studied carefully) and an assortment of buttons, threads, and bits of cloth. He took a porcelain plate from [Name] and sat in a chair, his shoulders dropping a little when his friend settled beside him with an identical plate.
"I made grilled cheese and tomato soup, if that's alright," Mrs. [Last Name] said with a small smile that made the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes deepen. Stan smiled gratefully and accepted both, watching as [Name]'s gentle fingers wrapped around the golden brown crust, her white teeth sink into the crunchy bread and her lips close around the cheesy goodness. Stan quickly glanced down at his own plate when she caught him watching, hastily shoving a bite of the delicious sandwich into his mouth.
"Slow down, Stanley," she advised him, watching as he dipped chunks of the hot grilled cheese into the soup. "You'll throw it all up if you eat too fast."
Stan did as he was told, slowing his eating by a fraction. Oh, how he had missed the famous [Last Name]'s grilled cheese!
It didn't take long for the two to completely finish their meal, allowing [Name]'s mother to release the pair into the summer afternoon. It was warm and yellow all around, and instead of going into town or the nearby woods surrounding the quarry, they decided to explore the fields and thickets around the [Last Name]'s property. It had, of course, been [Name]'s idea, being the more adventurous of the pair, but Stanley didn't mind going on a day-long exploration alone with her. For some odd reason he couldn't quite figure out, he liked being alone with her.
"Let's go to the creek, first," [Name] suggested, and just like that, they were off. Stan followed close behind her as they criss-crossed paths across the farmland until they crested a hill and, at the bottom, a thicket of trees lay. Some seventy-five feet beyond, a clear blue creek of sweet, pure water ran along the property line. They stumbled a little down the hill, laughing all the way, and soon were shrouded in tall oaks, birch, and hickory trees. Birds tittered and tweeted in the branches, flying high above their heads or swooping down at their feet for a berry. [Name] smiled as she noticed a small crowd of blackberry bushes, looking ripe and ready to pick.
"Let's go," she said, taking Stan's hand and leading him to the bushes. He felt heat prickle his neck and turn his ears red, but brushed it off. The two enjoyed the blackberries in silence, sitting on a fallen birch tree that lay nearby. [Name] shoved the berries in her mouth, the juice staining her fingers and her lips a reddish color. Stanley smiled a little at her expression before turning his gaze up to the trees, where birds fluttered in the branches.
He spotted a small gray bird with a streak of darker gray across the top of it's head; A gray catbird. [Name] noticed him watching the small bird and gently nudged his shoulder.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes still trained on the bird. Stanley felt the same heat as before rising up his spine again, and softly cleared his throat.
"It's a gray catbird," he spoke softly, noticing with a small grin that she was still gently pressed against his shoulder. Her mouth fell into a small 'O' and her [color] eyes glistened with wonder.
"It doesn't take much to impress you, does it?" Stanley asked with a cheeky grin. [Name] chuckled and murmured, "No, not really. But I've always admired you."
Stan almost fell off the log when she said this. He impressed her? This only wanted him to make her more amazed, so he began to point out every bird that he saw. So they sat there, the leaves dappling yellow-green light on their tanned shoulders, their chins turned up to the heavens, berries grasped in their hands and birds flitting around them.
". . . And that is a cedar waxwing," Stan finished, pointing up to the silky-looking bird. [Name] grinned in awe, watching as it flew closer to them. Stanley, on a whim, plucked a few more blackberries from the bush behind him and took [Name]'s hand, pushing the fresh berries into it. "Hold these out and maybe it'll fly into your hand."
And just like that, [Name] was a statue. She watched the bird with intense eyes, not moving a muscle as it cocked it's head on a nearby branch, twittered a few times, and then swooped down onto the ground before her. Stanley stilled himself, too, hearing a small gasp from the girl beside him. He watched with wide eyes as the bird hopped closer and then flew up to land on her fingers. It plucked a few berries from her palm before staring up intently at the human.
In an instance, it was gone.
"Wow," Stan breathed, staring at her shocked face.
"Wow," [Name] agreed, smiling back at him.
✩
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪʀ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ now, their arms close enough to brush. Stan noticed, but did nothing. He was scared— of his own feelings, of rejection, of girls— so he just walked beside her. [Name] looked around her, admiring the pretty colors that sprouted everywhere she looked. Vibrant shades of green, wet black soil, white daisies springing up from the undergrowth. She ran her hand over a bush and plucked a leaf, tearing it in her hands to leave a Hansel and Gretel path of natural confetti. The pair had been wandering for what felt like hours, although it had really only been minutes. The thicket of forest had no designated paths, but this didn't deter the pair. [Name] was confident in where they were heading.
It didn't take long for them to smell the wetness of the river, and the ground began to slightly slope downwards. Before Stan knew it, they could see the cool spring water flowing over the pebbles and rocks in the stream. [Name] smiled and then gasped, putting her arm out to prevent Stan from walking closer. He almost asked her "What?" but she put a finger to her lips and then pointed, her eyes trained on something in the distance. He followed her finger and there, across the stream, was a deer. It was beautiful, with soft brown and white fur and huge antlers protruding from it's forehead. Suddenly, it raised it's head from the soft green grasses of the opposite bank and stared with wet brown eyes and large round ears at the pair. Stanley felt a hand slip into his, gripping it tightly as they watched the beautiful animal before them. It stared for a moment later before bounding away, back into the rural farmland of Derry.
"Gosh" Stanley breathed, blinking a few times. He couldn't help but wonder if God was sending him a sign, telling him to do something, showing him something he was missing.
Though he couldn't figure out what.
"C'mon," [Name] said, tugging Stan a couple of feet forward and kneeling by the edge of the stream. It smelled wet and vegetated, healthy and green and natural. Nothing polluted this crystal clear stream.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Stanley heard his friend mutter. He nodded and leaned down next to her, following her gaze to the minnows darting around the rocks and the frogs leaping through the air from leaf to leaf.
"Yes," Stan murmured back, squeezing his friend's hand. "It is."
✩
[ɴᴀᴍᴇ] ᴡʀᴜɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ hair on the opposite bank they had started on, collapsing backwards onto her back in the softly swaying grass that came up to her mid calves. Stanley and [Name] had gotten into a water fight, resulting in the two of them completely soaking the other. Stan laid beside her, his hands close to hers just in case and their heads resting nearby as well.
"I love summertime," [Name] spoke, staring up at blue expanse of sky that was completely devoid of clouds.
"I love you," Stanley blurted.
It was quiet.
[Name] felt her stomach coil up and she wondered if he was playing around, stuttering or mixing up his words. But no, he must have been telling the truth because he hadn't corrected himself.
[Name] rolled onto her side and Stan looked at her, terrified of what she would say. Would she spit an insult in his face and storm off? Would she slap him and leave him for dead?
Instead, she kissed him.
Stanley gasped after she pulled away. His eyes were wide in question, and to answer it, she simply said, "I love you too."