𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

✩ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ~ 𝚜.𝚞. ✩

pairing: stanley uris x (fem)reader

warnings: none

word count: 1989

song: 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.