ethereal : it oneshots

lone star

"then pray for us stan!" he yelled angrily, his eyes unusually large. he was excited by this feeling of rage. he had pushed stan to the ground and was standing over him. his knuckles were clenched and his jaw was locked.

"fuck you!" stan retorted, spitting up at him. this didn't work, it simply landed back on stan's face, making stan shudder. stan was wriggling on the ground, trying to get out from underneath him.

"suck my dick uris! you know you want to!" he motioned to his dick, which was too close to stan's face. he laughed at stan's face going beet red. he knew too much. when stan got up, he simply kicked him back onto the ground.

"i hate you!" stan punched his ankles, hoping it would do something. it didn't do anything, he still stood towering over stan. stan was salivating at the mouth slightly, as a result of anger.

"oh, you know what happens to liars, don't you?" at this point, he picked up stan and held him by his shirt collar. he held stan close to him, almost whispering the words. stan shuddered at the smell of his awful fucking breath.

"shut up!" stan actually spat in his face this time. he wiped it from his face and continued to hold stan up, despite stan's wriggling and fighting. he was just that much stronger than stan. he had dragged stan over to the wall where he was pushing stan up against now.

"your dad sure does!" he raised his eyebrows to taunt stan. at this moment, stan finally kicked away from him. in stan's fit of rage at his words, stan punched him right in the nose. he stumbled back, holding his nose.

"shut the fuck up! you don't know anything about me! you don't have the fucking right to talk about my dad like that!" stan was, as his mom liked to say, screeching now. stan really was spitting everywhere. stan was infuriated at his words and wanted nothing more for this asshole to get the karma he deserved.

"i've known you for ten years uris, i can talk about you how i like." he walked back up from where he had stumbled, wiping the blood on his nose with his fist. as much as stan hated to think it, he looked hot like that. he licked his lips before he spoke, lowering his head to say the words.

"you thought you knew me. you don't know anything! now shut the fuck up about my dad." stan screamed back, tears welling in his eyes. stan fought the tears, begging them not to come. it was for nothing.

"are those tears, uris? you're a pussy now?" he laughed at the sight, making stan cower. he was back close up to stan, spitting in his face for once. he bit his tongue to stop him from laughing when he saw stan wipe it off aggressively.

"stop fucking calling me uris." stan didn't look at him when he spoke, stan looked directly at the ground. stan didn't want to see the smug look on his fucking face after realizing he'd won the argument.

"let's see.." he flicked stan's face, forcing stan to look up. "no." he did indeed have a smug look on his face. he began to walk away from stan, swinging his arms happily.

"i hate you." stan shouted out to him. stan then began to undo his shirt's top button. stan felt like he was suffocating.

"hate you more sweetheart" he turned around to put his hands in a heart to stan. he blew a kiss before laughing. he looked stan up and down and snorted. he wiped his nose one more time.

"fuck off!" stan spit for the last time, wiping his tears aggressively. stan felt one fall in his mouth. gross. salty. stan couldn't help but think about how fucking hot he looked when he was wiping his blood. thats a fucked up thing to think, right? stan didn't really know, but he couldn't stop the thoughts, so stan didn't try.

"you do realize you'd be better off dead, right?" he spoke calmly, the way a therapist would to a child. his eyebrows were curved upwards, and his face almost looked caring, but his words said something much different. stan knew it was all a façade. the entire friendship had been a façade. it was all bullshit. complete fucking bullshit.

"..."

"oh he's speechless. i'm out of here." and with that, he left stan. stan was sitting on the ground, bruised up his back, crying, with his back to the wall. stan watched as he left, and noticed him pull something off of his wrist and throw it on the ground. stan started crying more as the thing was recognized as a friendship bracelet stan had given him in grade two. he had kept it, after all this time, just for it to fall apart in the midst of enraged feelings based on nothing.

stan called bill denbrough next, staying in his spot on the ground. bill answered immediately, and stan asked if bill could pick him up. bill said sure, confused, and asked what the situation was. stan looked around at where he sat, the gravel that had to be up his ass by this point, and the small figure of a person in the distance.

"i fucking hate richie tozier."