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just-jordie-things · 5 years

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All I Need My Baby (And A Cigarette) - Stanley Barber

word count: 12,795 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) and Stanley Barber may be neighbors, but they haven’t been friends since they were children. Stan plans on changing that, even if (y/n) is a bit more of a popular girl now. He’s pretty convincing though... and charming... + based (very loosely) on this song ___

[ i never read ya ]

“Hey, sunshine!”

When (y/n) answered the phone, she wasn’t expecting such a delighted voice on the other end. She honestly thought that it was going to be Dina, calling her to invite her over, maybe even to go dress shopping, since homecoming was just a week away.

But of course it wasn’t Dina. Dina was busy. With Brad.

“Stanley?” She asked, confused to have heard his voice. “How’d you even get my number?”

Stanley Barber was… well, he was a strange guy. They lived on the same street, with Sydney Novak’s house just a block away from his. Because of their proximity, she’d known him her whole life.

When they were kids, they’d walk to school together. She supposed their parents didn’t want them walking by themselves at such a young age. When they were in middle school, they had a few classes together, and more often than not, would partner up. Since they were both outcasts, it was easier than trying to find someone who wanted to work with them. She found a certain comfort in having Stan around and always willing to work with her.

And now, in high school, he made it a point to say hi to her on her walk home from school. Sometimes he’d even walk with her, usually telling her about his weird day, sometimes giving her a record to listen to. But she wasn’t the same person that she was when they were kids. She had grown up a lot, matured. And with that came a natural beauty that the people at school flocked to. With beauty comes popularity, and so he didn’t see her around as much.

They were friends, kind of. They were friendly acquaintances.

But not close enough for him to be calling her.

“Syd gave it to me,” He answered. “You want to come over?”

“What?” She asks, like she didn’t understand the question.

She finally sits up from bed, since she’d been laying there since she got home from school. Pulling the cord on her phone with her, she looked over at the clock. 8:15.

“It’s kinda late” She says, like that’s the only reason stopping her from going over to his house right now. They got along, but they didn’t hang out together, and she’s certainly never been over to his house.

“So?” He replied. “It’s the perfect time of night for a drive”

“A drive?” She asks. “You don’t have any other friends to ask?”

“If I wanted to ask someone else, why would I ask you?”

“That doesn’t make sense” (y/n) sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes.

“You want to hang out or not?” He asked.

She mulled it over for a minute, weighing her options. It was either stay in bed the rest of the night, or go hang out with an almost total stranger.

“Alright,” She sighed, kicking off her blankets. “I’ll be there in a few minutes”

“Great!” He replied, before hanging up the phone.

As she got up to go, she wondered if she should change, since she’d worn these clothes all day and then came home and slept in them. But it was just Stanley, who cared if Stanley thought she looked like a hobo in her messed up sweater and jeans.

So with that, she pulled on her shoes and headed out the door.

It was pretty chilly for september, so she walked quickly to Stan’s house. And when she arrived, he opened the door before she could even knock.

He looked neat and disheveled all at once. In a tee shirt and bright yellow cardigan, paired with trousers, and… bare feet. She couldn’t decide what was more odd, his lack of shoes or the sunglasses on his head even though the sun had already set. She gave him a confused once over, but he spoke before she could.

“Ready?” He asked, an excited grin on his face.

“I guess” (y/n) shrugged back.

He nods, walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

“I know a really great place to smoke, if you want. If you smoke, I don’t wanna like, peer pressure you, or anything” He suggested as they walked up to his car.

“You’re not going to wear shoes?” (y/n) asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nah, who needs em” Was all he said, before opening the passenger door for her.

(y/n) thanks him quietly as she gets in.

His car smells like pot, and somehow, fruit. Something citrusy that she can’t quite place. It’s a strange combination, but something about it was all the more perfect for his car.

Stan gets into the driver's seat, and starts the car with an eager bounce. (y/n) can’t help but chuckle a bit.

Stanley Barber was one odd duck.

“So have you thought about uh, you know, homecoming?” He asked, drumming his thumbs on the wheel.

“Homecoming?” (y/n) repeats softly. “No, why?”

“Just wondering,” Stan replied with a shake of his head. “You know, cause some people are already asking dates, and stuff”

“It’s kinda far out” She mumbles, eyes casting out the window.

“Well, you know, a week,” Stan responds. “But yeah, it’s so weird that it’s our last one”

“I’m pretty relieved. Dances aren’t really my thing”

“I guess its your last chance to make it your thing,” He says. “If you wanted to”

(y/n) looks over to him curiously, and for a second she thinks that he’s asking her to homecoming, before she realizes that it’s a dumb thing to assume, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t want to” She answers.

She wonders if this is enjoyable for him. Sitting in near silence with her, and only getting short answers. Sure, she knows she could be more talkative, if she wants to. But she didn’t understand why he wanted to hang out with her of all people.

Finally he parks the car, and she looks up to see that they’re parked under an overpass, in front of a large graffitied painting reading Brownsville on the cement wall. Her brows furrow as she gets out of the car and follows him up to the wall.

“Why here?” She asks, and Stan hoists himself up on the ledge.

She mimics him, sitting next to him while he fumbles through his pockets. She just watches him, a curious glint in her eye. But it felt the longer she spent trying to figure him out, the harder it was. Like his personality was changing every five minutes.

He pulled out a case, and popped it open to reveal to her a couple of blunts, and a lighter.

“You smoke often?”

“No,” She hums in response, taking the blunt and lighter when he offers them to her. “Not in a year, actually. I kinda… uh… stopped”

She puts the blunt to her mouth and flicks the lighter, before taking in a deep breath, inhaling for as long as she could hold it. She handed them back to him, before letting out a slow exhale, and watching the smoke dissipate into the air.

“And here I am pressuring you into smoking again?” He asked, taking a quick puff.

“It’s not like that,” She said quietly, shaking her head. “I just um… never really felt like it anymore,” She continued. “And I think that once I realized I was on my own I didn’t want to risk um… feeling worse, you know? Like I didn’t want those feelings amplified,”

Stanley nods, but he doesn’t comment. That was the most she’d said to him all day, and it felt… heavy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We should hang out more often,” He says before she could regret opening up. “I don’t know why we haven’t before”

She looks over at him, taking the blunt when he offers it to her. Her brows are knitted together, but there’s an awkward smile on her face, like she was trying to conceal it but it slipped out anyways.

“Because we’re strangers” She answered, looking down at the half-smoked blunt in her fingers, before taking another hit.

“We’re neighbors” Stanley said, like it was supposed to change everything, and make them friends.

“Not really,” (y/n) shrugged. “I’m a couple houses down from you”

“So?” He replied. “We grew up together, we walked to school together. In the movies we’d be, like, best friends by now. Probably even dating”

Her head jerks around, a wild and confused look in her eye as she tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“Dating?” She repeats. “You and I? Did you not hear the part about us being strangers?”

Stan chuckles, and takes the last hit of the blunt.

“I’m just saying” He says nonchalantly.

“You could be an axe murderer” Her voice is softer than it should be, and she’s suddenly too shy to look at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, both gazing out at the dark town, trying to find the stars in the cloudy sky. It feels like it should be a beautiful night, but it isn’t. It’s cold and foggy. It’s ugly.

“But you came out with me anyways” Stanley speaks up, far too delayed.

(y/n) looks at him again, a smile tugging on her lips, betraying her. She doesn’t look away this time, she just keeps smiling at him.

They walk around town for a while, even though everywhere is closed, and after smoking another blunt they’re a bit too faded to do anything anyways. So they just talk, and enjoy the silence when it would settle between them.

“What’s your favorite band?” Stan asks, while (y/n) is balancing herself on the curb of the sidewalk.

Her arms are outstretched as she takes each step, wobbling a bit more than she would have had she been sober.

“I don’t know, it changes a lot,” She answers. “Maybe Tame Impala. Or Cage The Elephant”

“Good answers,” Stan says, while he’s skipping between walking on the curb with you and walking on the street. “Now you get to ask a question”

“Alright…” She muses, letting her mind wander to a good thing to ask him.

She knows she could string together any words and he would be eager to answer, but she racks her brain for a good idea anyways.

“Will you move when you’re older?” She asks him.

He’s walking in the street now, but he’s so tall that when she turns to look at him she’s barely looking down.

“Like, out of Brownsville?” He asks, and she nods. “Well ideally, of course. Wouldn’t you?”

She nods, but something about the way her eyes softened lead him to believe that she wasn’t so sure.

“There’s not a whole lot of opportunity here, don’t you think?” Stan says, “I mean, what are your options for a career? Working at the school? Or waitressing? That’s not a life for me. I’d be a terrible waitress”

“You’d be a waiter, Stan” She says, but he dismisses the idea.

“No way, I’m moving outta here first chance I get”

“Do you know where you’re going to college?” She murmurs, but he ignores that too.

“It’s my turn for a question, don’t break the rules,” He chided playfully. “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“That’s your question?” She giggles, still the tiniest bit high.

“You have to answer it, it’s the rules”

“Yeah yeah,” She shakes her head. “Maybe going to Ricky Berry’s party, I don’t know”

“Really? You?”

“Doesn’t that count as a question-?”

“You just don’t seem like the party type,” He says before she can scold him for breaking his own rules. “Since you have a thing against fun”

“What? I don’t have anything against fun-” Again, he doesn’t let her finish.

“You do too,” He argues. “You hate homecoming, you didn’t want to hang out tonight, you’re a funsucker”

(y/n) laughs, and shoves at his shoulder, effectively losing her own balance and stumbling to walk in the street by his side now. Neither of them say anything as their arms swing against each other from their close proximity.

“I am not,” She mutters. “I just don’t have… friends”

“What? Yes you do”

“No I don’t” She replies with a bitter laugh.

“You have more friends than me,” Stan says. “Aren’t you buddies with Dina? You’re a popular girl you know”

“Me?” She laughs again, shaking her head wildly. “No, no I’m not,”

She wishes she’d brought a jacket, had she known they’d be walking around town in this weather then she would have. But she settles for wrapping her arms around herself to preserve warmth.

“And I’m not really Dina’s friend anymore” She adds in a softer voice.

“Oh” Is all Stan can think to say. He doesn’t know how to ask her what happened without making it awkward, so he doesn’t.

It’s quiet again as they head back to his car, but not totally uncomfortable. She’s getting used to being in silence with Stan, and finds that it’s nicer than being in silence at home alone.

“Are your parents gonna be upset that you were kept out late by a possible axe murderer?” He asks when they get in the car.

“No,” She says with a small giggle. “They’re out of town on a joint business trip”

“Oh, cool” He says, nodding his head.

“They have been for the past week,” (y/n) adds.

Oh.

“Sometimes I wonder if sometime they’ll go and just… not come back”

Oh.

“You could move in with me” Stan suggests, without really thinking. He wants to blame it on the pot, but his high wore off twenty minutes ago.

She turns to him, that same confused look on her face that she kept giving him earlier. The words linger in her mind for a minute before she lets out a soft laugh, and shakes her head.

“You’re so strange, Stanley Barber” She muses

[ you said i’m different, i’m difficult ]

Ricky Berry was not a friend of (y/n’s), although more often than not he did seem to think he was. Like right now, approaching her in the living room, offering her a bottle of beer.

“No, thanks” She says, pushing the bottle away.

“Since when do you not drink?” He asks with a smirk, the kind that makes her want to slap him until it goes away.

Her brows furrow and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not in the mood” She forces out between her teeth.

Ricky puts his hands up as though he’s surrendering, and this only deepens her newfound hatred for the boy. She didn’t hate him before, she just didn’t like him and his rich-kid bullshit personna. And she didn’t like the way he treated her like there was something between them, like they’d ever been friends. They were hardly acquaintances. She couldn’t tell you a damn thing about him besides that he was on the football team, and she only knew that because of the way he paraded around town in his dumb letterman’s jacket.

He chuckles, drawing her back to reality from the dark thoughts currently swimming in her mind. Like what it would feel like to break her hand punching him in the face.

“Are you enjoying the party?” He asked her, and before she could even answer he spoke up again. “Did you come alone?”

Her eyes narrow on his figure for a moment, before she regained control of her disgust.

“I was having a fine time,” She lies. “And no, I didn’t” She lies again.

“You brought a date?” Ricky asks with a chuckle, like he doesn’t believe her.

And he doesn’t believe her, because as beautiful as the enigma that was (y/n) (y/l/n) was, she was unattainable, and he knew that better than anyone else. She was an anti-social rose. Pretty, but didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.

“Maybe,” She answers bluntly, quirking a brow at him. “What’s it to you?”

Ricky mistakes her irritation for flirtation, and makes the poor choice of grinning down at her, and taking a bold step forward. Without hesitation, she steps back, putting the foot of space between them again.

“Well, had I known you were finally looking for someone to bring you to these sorts of events, you know, as sort of a… boyfriend figure… I would have applied for the position”

She knows he’s trying to be suave, but she can’t help the bubbling laughter that almost erupts from her chest. She’s lucky to have contained it shaking her head and looking away from him. She can’t believe he’s this much of a tool, it’s almost too amusing.

As she looks away from him, her eyes catch another figure, and her mood lifts instantly.

Stanley’s standing in the middle of the living room, wearing the cutest baby blue suit she’s ever seen. He looks very out of place, and a bit lost, but when his eyes meet hers, he seems to relax, and he gives her a welcoming grin.

“- and anyways, I think I’d be an excellent choice for you, (y/n). I mean, let's be real, you’re royalty, I’m royalty, and we’re a perfect match. I could treat you like a princess, you know-”

“Gotta go,” (y/n) says, holding a hand up to Ricky’s face to silence him, already turning to head away from him. “Oh, also, your application has been rejected, so sorry,” She tells him with a giggle that she just couldn’t hold back. “You just weren’t a good fit”

She’s still laughing as she wanders off towards Stan, who seems puzzled by her laughter, but he’s just glad she approached him.

“Wow…” She says, looking him up and down. “Look at you”

“It’s nice, right?” He asks, smoothing his hands over the lapels of the jacket.

(y/n) nods, raising her eyebrows and grinning as she looks back up at him.

“So, what’re you doing here?” She asks him. “I didn’t peg you as the party type either”

“I’m not any type,” Stan shrugs. “I just felt like getting out of the house, and here is better than sitting at the overpass by myself”

“You want to snag a couple drinks and get out of here?” She asks, and the shock on his face makes her laugh, and quickly shake her head. “Not like that, dork,” She says, “Let’s just take this party somewhere else, it’s not my scene”

“It-it’s not my scene either” He agrees, and she grins.

He likes this side of (y/n). The bubbly side, where she smiles and laughs and isn’t so afraid to talk to him like she had been before.

As he followed behind her to the kitchen so they could steal a couple bottles of anything they could get their hands on, he couldn’t help but look her over.

She’d swapped out her sweater and mom-jeans for a black sheer long sleeved button down, and much skinnier jeans. He had to force himself to look away before studying the shirt enough to see her skin beneath it. Not that it was hard, it was a very light and see-through material.

He wondered for a minute if she wore it to be looked at, and then his mind wandered off to the image of her and Ricky talking a few minutes ago, and how close they were standing.

“Are you and Ricky like… a thing?” He asked.

Her head popped up from where she’d gone digging through the fridge.

“What?” She asks, exasperated from a question that shouldn’t have been difficult. “No, gross” Her brows furrow and her lips curl into a slight snarl, and Stan feels relief spread through him that she looks so disgusted by the idea.

She hands him two bottles, and snags two of her own, and then points towards the back door so they could sneak out easily.

��Do you know any other good hiding places?” She asks, pushing her hair back behind her ears when the breeze whips it in her face.

“I know lots of great hiding places,” He responds. “But I think I have the best idea for a new one”

“Great” (y/n) grins, and they get into his car to drive off to another mystery place.

It’s chilly, but she rolls the window down, and leans her head out of it to enjoy the night. The clouds from last night had disappeared, revealing the stars, and she grins as her eyes count them. It’s useless, but it passes the time, because Stan’s been driving for a while.

He keeps casting glances over at her, letting his mind wander to all the beautiful things about her he’s never really noticed before. Sure, she was gorgeous, that was common knowledge. You only needed eyes to know that.

He hadn’t gotten to see her in the moonlight last night, and he sure is glad that he can now. Her eyelashes cast shadows over her cheekbones, which, in this lighting, are even more defined and frame her whole face like she’s the subject of a painting.

He thinks she should be the subject of a painting.

Her hair flies around from the wind, but she’s given up on holding it back, and just let’s it do whatever it wants. Every few minutes her eyes would close contently, and he wondered what thoughts she was getting lost in, but he didn’t ask, he lets them be private.

When he finally stops the car, (y/n) looks out to see where he’s taken them.

“The water tower?” She asks, helping him with the beer.

“Yep” He replies with a proud grin, and heads up to it.

As she watches him go, her eyes catch to where he’s heading to, and she jogs to catch up to his side.

“We’re going up there?” She asks when he steps onto the first rung of the ladder.

Her eyes wander up to it’s height, and she feels dizzy just looking at the ledge that the ladder leads to.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” He asks her, putting a beer bottle in each of his pockets.

“No,” She answers him quickly. “I just… don’t want to climb a hundred feet on a fifty year old ladder” She adds in a weaker voice.

“Do you want to go first?” He asks, stepping off the ladder and gesturing for her to go ahead.

“What, am I supposed to believe you’ll catch me if I fall?” She asks in a bored tone.

“At least I could break your fall” Stan shrugs, and she laughs nervously.

With one more glance up to the top, she lets out a shaky sigh, and nods her head.

“Okay” She mumbles.

She tucks the bottle of beer in her jeans, neck first. They hit her stomach awkwardly with every bar she climbs, but there’s no way she’s getting up there and not drinking.

“You’re doing great!” Stan calls from a few feet below her.

“Please don’t encourage me” She says, and keeps up the motion of climbing as best she can.

She doesn’t want to look down, or outwards. She doesn’t want to look up either, but that’s better than seeing how far from the ground she is. It takes quite a while to get to the top, and when she grabs the last bar, she lets out a cheer, and quickly scrambles onto the ledge.

There’s about three feet of metal landing that sticks out from the water tower itself, and much to her relief it’s surrounded by a barred gate. She’s quick to sit down, taking the bottles out of her jeans and placing them beside her, while he wraps her arms over the bar.

Stan sits beside her not long after, cracking open one of his drinks and smiling widely at her. She opens one of her beers as well, and clinks her bottle against his while he’s drinking from it.

“I can’t believe you got me to come up here” She sighs, swinging her legs around comfortably.

“It didn’t take that much convincing,” He told her. “Give yourself some credit, you came up here on your own choice”

He smiles at her like he’s proud of her, and makes a blush dust along her cheeks.

“You’re right, that was really brave of me,” She said, only partially teasing. “But I wouldn’t have come up here if it wasn’t for the company,” She tells him sweetly. “So thanks, Stan”

She touches her bottle to his again as though to cheers to him.

“Right back at you” He says, trying to be slick, but he’s getting nervous and his voice is softer than he intends it to be.

It’s quiet, and (y/n) leans forward to rest her chin on top of her arms, still holding onto the bar. She’s enjoying the view, the peace and quiet. This is the perfect hiding spot.

“The height doesn’t seem so bad once you’re up here,” She murmurs, and Stan hums in agreement. “I feel like it works that way with everything. Things aren’t so bad once you get through them, you know?” She’s thinking aloud, not looking for a response, or even an acknowledgement of her letting her thoughts run free. “I hope it’s like that with this Dina thing. Like once I move on and tell myself I’m enough for me, it’ll be easier,”

She looks over to Stan now, but his eyes are trained upwards, scanning over the stars. She smiles at him, even though he doesn’t see.

“And I think it’ll be easier now that I’ve met you,”

He looks at her once she says that, his cheeks pink, and his brown eyes rounded with curiosity and hope at her gentle words. They remind her of a doe’s eyes, if only for a moment.

“I’m glad I met you,” She hums. “Like, really met you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you sooner”

“It only would’ve made you run away sooner” He jokes, a short laugh falling from his lips, but he can’t laugh too much because she just said the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him and his heart is swelling up like a balloon in his chest.

She giggles with him, but shakes her head.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have,” She says, and then takes a long drink of her beer. “You have too many good hiding places in plain daylight to run away. Hiding right in front of people is what I’ve been dying for, you know”

“Like Ricky?” He asks before thinking.

The soft smile on her face falls, but she clears her throat and tries her best to neutralize her expression. But she tries too hard, and Stan notices.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “But I guess from everyone now,”

She looks away from him, gazing with a heartbreaking fondness out at the sleeping town before her. From the thick land of trees they’d driven through to get here, to the dimly lit houses, the old buildings. She always thought Brownsville looked like the generic sort of town you could slap onto a postcard and say it was from anywhere in the midwest.

“I used to be able to be myself with Dina,” She said, almost out of nowhere. “She was my best friend, it’s what she’s there for right?” She asks with a bitter chuckle. “And then Brad asks her out and… steals her away from me”

(y/n) leans forward to rest her head on her arms again.

“That’s… bullshit,” Stan says. “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear”

“No, you’re right,” The girl whispers. “It is bullshit. Because we promised we wouldn’t change for each other, but now… now she’s popular and going to football games and pep rallies and- and that’s just not me. I don’t know if it's her either… maybe it is now, I don’t know… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to vent-”

“It’s fine,” Stan says quickly. “You can vent as much as you want. It’s just us up here, might as well get it out of your system, right?”

She grins over at him, and raises her glass before finishing it off.

“Anything you have to vent about, then, Stanley Barber?” She questions.

“Nope,” He shrugs after thinking about it for a minute. “For the first time in a while, I actually kind of like my life. I like that my dad’s gone 25 days out of the month, I like getting to know you, I feel good”

Her grin only widens at the compliment, and she’s blushing again but she’s not as embarrassed by it this time.

They opened up their second bottles, and clicked them together as the last toast for the night.

“To liking life,” (y/n) muses. “And to us, of course” She adds.

“Cheers,” Stan nods before they both take a drink. “So here’s my first question of the night”

“Shoot”

“What’s Ricky Berry want with you, anyway?” He asks. “Like… is he actually into you or are you a conquest- oh my god, I take that back, I don’t mean it like-”

His nervous ramblings stop when (y/n) begins to giggle, almost choking on her drink.

“No, no, you’re good, I don’t take offense,” She assures him. “Ricky Berry is… well, besides a tool, he’s a character, in the book of my life,”

The drinks are starting to get to her, just a little bit.

“He’s the guy that tries and tries and tries, and he grows and learns from his mistakes, learns what I don’t want to hear and what’s not working, but somehow, he just finds ways to make new mistakes. Not once has he asked me out in a coherent- or even normal- manner. It’s always some line, or some dumb look that he tries”

“How long has this been going on?” Stan asks, his brows furrowed a bit.

The idea of Ricky ‘Icky’ Berry asking (y/n) out repeatedly pisses him off.

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn for a question,” (y/n) murmurs, drinking as she thought. “Oh, I know. What’s your favorite memory?”

“Easy. When mom was around and she’d make blueberry pancakes before school,” He says, maybe too fast. “It sounds sad, but… no one could make them like her”

She gives him a warm smile, and reaches out to set her hand over top of his from where it was lying at his side.

“It’s not sad. It’s sweet. That’s a really good favorite memory”

He nods, reminiscing in the pleasant image in his head.

“Your turn now,” He says abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his own thoughts. “How long has Ricky been chasing you around?”

“Oh, I don’t know, two years now, maybe?” She muses. “I try not to pay him too much mind. It’s not so important to me”

“Yeah, but… it’s kinda gross that he’s so persistent” Stan says with a cringe.

“You think so?” (y/n) asks. “I mean, it’s annoying, but it’s never been, like, aggressive, or anything”

“Don’t you think it's the constant hitting on you that makes it aggressive though?” Stan asks. “I mean, he knows you’re not interested, he should… um… stop” His voice gets quieter towards the end of his sentence, and he’s worried he’s crossed a line, since (y/n’s) gone silent.

“I guess so,” She finally whispers after a long moment. “I never really thought of it like that”

She takes a few drinks of her beer before setting it down, and moving on to her own question.

“Do you and your dad not get along?”

“Nope,” He answers with a bark of a laugh. “We never have. Sometimes I think when I was born he changed his mind on having a baby, and held it against me personally. But it’s okay. I resent him too and I barely have to see him. So. Win-win”

She wants to be sad for him, because it’s unfortunate that Stan doesn’t get along with the only parent he has left. But he just seems so… happy. And she can tell he’s come to terms with it. So instead she puts on a happy face, because she’s happy for him that he’s made his peace.

She’d like to make her peace with her parents some day.

“Your turn” She murmurs.

“Alright. What’s your deepest, darkest secret, (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

She raises her brows at the bold question, and the use of her full name, but she thinks it over carefully.

“And no lying!” He hastily adds. “That’s not in spirit of the game”

“My deepest darkest secret…”

There’s lots of secrets she could share. Secrets of her own, secrets of her parents, the few friends she had, hell, her whole life had been keeping secrets. But now that Stan was asking for one, she didn’t know what to say.

“I used to dream about running away,” She settles. “It probably started when I turned seven, that’s when my parents started talking about having another baby, to feel satisfied again. I was pretty young to feel so…”

She blanks on the word she’s looking for, and Stan’s nervous to hear what it was.

“...worthless,” She finishes in a murmur. “So I would walk up to the bus stops in town, memorize their schedules, just in case I ever needed to make a quick break. And as I got older I… entertained the idea a little more. Leaving earlier for school, just to walk long, new paths, ones I could use someday to skip town without anyone knowing. And when I would walk home I would stall, wander more new places, anything to keep me from seeing them so soon,”

She smiles to herself, remembering the little adventures through Brownsville she would take when she was younger.

“One time after school, I walked around town until six o’clock,” She told him. “When I got home, I told my mom I was with a teacher and had to stay late,” She licked her lips as her eyes met his, a small, watery smile on her lips. “She checked the time, she hadn’t realized I was home so late- three hours late,” She whispered. “I was ten”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan muttered.

His hand twitched under hers. He wants to hold her hand, properly, fingers intertwined, but he was nervous she’d pull away from him if he made the move.

“Why didn’t you run away?”

“That’s a good question,” She says with a bittersweet laugh. “I don’t know. I certainly wanted to… hell, maybe I still do,”

She glances at him again, before whispering.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll stay a little longer”

He smiles back at her, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander the features of her face.

“So,” (y/n) lets out a short sigh, before asking, “What’s your deepest darkest secret, then?”

“Don’t laugh,” Stan groans. “And compared to yours, this is lame as fuck. But… I have bacne”

(y/n) raises a brow, and she does have to hold back a laugh because she can’t believe that’s all he’s got.

“What?”

“Yeah”

“Like…”

“Like zits on my back and shit, yeah. It sucks. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through, and that’s saying something, (y/n),” She giggles at his dramatic tone, covering her mouth with the hand that wasn’t laid over his. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. There’s no cure, I’ve done everything possible. I just have to hope adulthood fixes me”

She’s still laughing, to the point where when it finally dies down, she has to take deep breaths.

He watches her shoulders rise and fall in sync with her chest, and how her fingers reach to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had welled in them from laughing so hard. And still, he thinks she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

She pushes her hair behind her ears, and turns to him once she’s calmed down, only to find his eyes are already focused on her.

“What?” She murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

“I… uh… I have my next question” He says, eyes flickering between hers, and the grond far, far below them.

“Go for it” (y/n) grins, eager to hear what strange thing he’s come up with this time.

“Will you, um, if you want, would you want to maybe, um, go to homecoming?” He asks, and it’s choppy, but he lets out a short breath of relief for just getting it out in the right words. “With me?” He adds as an afterthought.

The smile on her face slowly falls, and despite her heart beating profoundly in her chest, she lifts her hand away from his.

He regrets it. He wants to take it back but he knows he can’t, not without humiliating himself any further. He wishes that he could pinch himself and wake up in bed, and find that tonight was just some wild dream meant to lift and then crush his spirits.

It wasn’t a dream, but his spirits were still very crushed.

“Stan…” She whispers, and he prepares himself for the blow.

I don’t like you like that. You’re just a friend. Why’d you have to make this weird?

No matter what she ended up saying, it would hurt the same.

“It’s fine, I get it” He shakes his head, not even wanting to hear her excuse.

“You shouldn’t… it’s just…” (y/n) sighs, and closes her eyes while trying to find the right words. “You just shouldn’t get involved with me, that’s all,” She whispers so softly that it’s a faint mumble to his ears. “It’s complicated… I’m complicated”

You aren’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it.

“It’s really fine. I know it’s not your thing” He says, just wishing she’d stop trying to make him feel better.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “You should go with someone that wants to go and- and have a good time with you, you know?” She says. “Someone that will actually dance and not just sit on the bleachers”

He looks over at her, forcing a smile on his face.

“And here I thought that you weren’t as much of a funsucker tonight,” He teases, making her smile too. “You really sit during dances?”

“The one that I went to, yes,” She laughs quietly. “It’s really not my thing,”

It’s comfortable between them again, which they’re both incredibly grateful for. But Stanley’s hopes are still ruined. He’d really thought she’d say yes, he had prepared earlier tonight, and even knowing that she had a thing against homecoming he’d thought that maybe he could be her exception. Apparently not.

She throws back the rest of her beer, hoping that the tension that she’s now created between them will go away on it’s own. It wasn’t Stanley’s fault, she knew it was her own for turning him down like that.

And truth was, a part of her did want to go to the dance with him. It actually sounded… nice. But the other part of her, the sensible part, reminded her of what she was getting into. She knew that she wasn’t the easiest person to be around, she would go out and have fun every once in a while, but eventually she’d hole herself back up in her room and be antisocial for weeks on end. Not to mention how bad it would get once her parents came back. Reflecting on herself, all she saw was drama, and problems. It wasn’t fair to Stan for her to involve him in her messy life.

“I have a question for you” She speaks after a few minutes of them drinking in quiet.

“I have an answer” He responds.

“How do you think I’m supposed to get down from here?”

Stan begins to laugh, and she lets out a few nervous giggles with him, but ultimately stares him down for an answer.

“I’m serious,” She said. “There’s no way in hell I’m climbing down that ladder”

Her eyes were wide and her brows were raised, waiting for him to give her some alternative solution to getting back down to earth. Which didn’t involve jumping, or the ladder.

“Oh shit, for real?” ___

[ you said i’m missing you ]

Over the next three days, (y/n) made it a point to see Stanley more often. In the halls she’d say hi, and if she had time to kill she’d walk with him to class and talk about all the random things he likes to talk about.

They hung out a few times in the library, and she started sitting with him at lunch too. It earned her a few looks, but no one said anything about it. Not that she cared, she enjoyed Stan’s company, and she wanted to seek it out more.

So on Wednesday night, instead of going to bed early, she decided instead to walk down to the bowling alley. She’d heard him complain enough about working there to remember, and thought it would be nice to surprise him.

She was surprised that the doors weren’t locked when she got there, since it closes at nine on weeknights, and it was nearing ten o’clock now. She could tell Stanley was surprised when she walked in, too.

“We’re closed- oh, hey” He smiled when he realized it was only her.

“I think part of the ‘locking up’ duties is actually locking up” She teases him as she wanders inside.

She’d never actually been to the bowling alley. To be there you either had to have been invited to a birthday party when you were a kid, or have friends and family to go with. She had neither.

When she takes a seat at the alley Stan’s currently cleaning up, it’s then that she notices the black and blue shiner on his eye. It’s a little faint, sure to disappear in a day or two, but once it catches her eye she can’t hold back the gasp.

“Oh my god, Stan, what happened?” She asked, already flying up from her seat to get a closer look.

He seems confused by what she’s asking for a moment, and then turns his head away before she can study it too hard.

“Nothing- it’s nothing, don’t worry about it” He tried dismissing it, picking up two of the bowling balls left behind.

(y/n) frowns as she watches him walk away to put them on the proper shelf.

“Stan,” She calls, her tone more demanding this time. “What happened? Who did that?”

“It seriously doesn’t matter, (y/n),” He responds, and she can tell he’s getting annoyed, but she doesn’t really care. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore”

Something about how his voice drops, and he can’t look at her while he busies himself with cleaning up, just gives her the answer. It clicks in her head like a lightbulb moment, and she finds herself grabbing his wrist so he’d stop moving and actually look at her for a minute.

“Was it your dad?” She asks, voice barely rising above a murmur.

She knows she’s right, she can feel it. She didn’t even know his father was back for the weekend, and it’s unexplainable who she assumed such a thing so quickly, but Stan’s sigh confirms her answer.

Her hand slips down from his wrist to grasp onto his, but he rips it away and walks back to the counter to continue cleaning.

“We don’t have to talk about it-”

“We’re not” He said before she could finish.

It’s not what she wants to hear, they both know that, but she doesn’t want to push him, so she doesn’t.

“Do you want any help cleaning up?” She offers instead, anything to ease his mind and help him out.

“I’m almost done,” He says while wiping down the front counter. “Just gotta lock up before I go”

She nods, and it goes silent between them while she stands and watches him work.

It’s not a comfortable silence, like she’d gotten used to with him. The air feels heavy, and she’s drowning herself in her own worries the longer she stands there. Stan can’t bring himself to look at her, he’s too ashamed, too nervous, and he knows that her eyes are full of tears and her brow is furrowed in concern- he thinks he might cry if he looks at her like that for too long.

“Stan?” She says softly, and he casts a short glance towards her, before quickly staring back down at the counter he’s wiping. “Could… could you drive me home?”

It’s a simple question, and she doesn’t necessarily need the ride. The walk to the bowling alley was a short ten minutes, and she didn’t mind walking at all. But she didn’t want to be alone, and more importantly, she didn’t want him to be alone. A ride home wouldn’t be too bad, anyways. She did live on his street.

“Yeah” He answers, just as quiet.

He finishes up cleaning, then motions for him to follow her out the door.

She walks close behind him, and waits patiently while he locks the front door. The walk silently to his car.

It’s weird that music is playing while neither of them say anything. She wants to turn it off, be in total silence. But maybe the music makes it less awkward for him.

The drive is short, and before she knows it he’s pulled up outside of her house.

“Thank you” She whispers out, but she’s still sitting in the passenger’s seat, and has made no move to open the door and get out.

“No problem” He mumbles back, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel while he waits.

She knows she has to either speak up or get out sooner than later, and it’s already been way too long to just sit here and do nothing. So she takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“You know that you can… you could always um… come stay with me,” She says, eyes flickering over to his anxiously. “If you wanted,” She added in a softer whisper. “My parents are out of town till the end of the week… so… you could stay until he’s gone”

He gives her a short, weak smile in response, and nods his head.

“Thanks,” He says quietly. “But uh… it’s fine. He leaves me alone, I mean, he’s got it out of his system, so…”

(y/n) nods her head uncomfortably, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good,” She mumbles. “I’ll see you at school”

She’s getting out of the car fast now, like she can’t do it fast enough, and Stan wants to kick himself as he watches her walk quickly into her house.

She was only trying to help, he thinks, before hitting his head down on top of the wheel and letting out a groan of frustration.

He’ll just have to make it up to her tomorrow. ___

[ they talkin’ now, just block em out ]

(y/n) doesn’t see Stan the next day at school. Not in the halls, not even in the classes that she might have snuck around to peek into that she knew he had. It was almost embarrassing, but she was worried about him. With his dad still in town, and their awkward parting last night, she was starting to get uncomfortable.

She sat alone at lunch. She could’ve sat with Dina, since Stanley was a no-show. But she looked pretty busy with Brad and the rest of the football team and cheerleading squad. And sitting alone was better than that.

She’d been picking around her plate for fifteen minutes now, and there was only another fifteen left in the lunch period. A part of her wanted to ditch school, maybe swing by his place to see if he was home, but she didn’t want to come across as stalker-y or anything-

“Hey, sunshine,”

The girl almost jumped out of her seat, looking up to see the boy himself plopping down at the table across from her.

“Stanley-!”

“I brought you, uh, something,” He said, handing over a brown paper bag. “It’s lunch”

There’s a smile on her face as she looks at it. He’d doodled all over it, flowers and smiles and dorky little scribbles, around the bold lettering that read (y/n’s) Lunch.

“Why?” She asks while opening it up.

“Um, I feel uh.. I feel really bad about last night,” He said anxiously, his hands patting against the tabletop. “So.. I made you lunch”

(y/n) giggles, pulling out a small tupperware container with a pre-peeled orange inside, and then a snack cake, and then a sandwich.

“What’s on this?” She asked, brows furrowing when he blushes.

“There’s actually three sandwiches in there,” He tells her. “I didn’t know what you liked…”

She giggles as she looks over her lunch options, and shakes her head.

“Stan, you didn’t have to-”

“Yeah, I- I did,” He says, and (y/n) hands him one of the sandwiches. “I’m really sorry, (y/n), I was just upset with my dad and I wish I hadn’t taken that out on you, you were only trying to help”

“It’s okay,” (y/n) assures, giving him a soft smile while enjoying her lunch. “I understand. It’s okay,” It’s quiet for a moment, before she adds, “Your eye is already looking better today”

He returns a weak smile, before nodding his head a little bit.

“Yeah. Good thing too. I don’t want to look stupid at homecoming”

With the cheesy grin that starts to appear on her face, he already knows what she’s going to say.

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to look stupid-“ She starts to tease him, but he’s not having it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” He says abruptly.

(y/n) shakes her head at him while she laughs, prying open the orange he’d brought for her. She splits it in half and hands part of it to him.

“So I was thinking of asking Mercedes…” Stan says slowly, eyes trained on the orange. He’s too nervous to look at (y/n). “To homecoming”

Mercedes? She thinks. The holier-than-thou boring girl on the cheerleading squad?

“She’s cute!” (y/n) says encouragingly, her lips tugging into a tight, and rather forced, smile.

“Yeah,” Stan mumbles, and shrugs his shoulders like he’s not so sure. “She’s nice, I mean, we’re partners in Bio”

Wow. What chemistry you have. It takes a lot of effort for (y/n) not to roll her eyes.

“You should ask her” She tells him.

But her voice is quiet, and she’s intent on peeling the white skin from the orange slices. Anything to keep from making eye contact with him right now.

“You don’t mind?”

Her eyes shoot up to him at the question, features falling for just a moment before she carefully crafts them into a happier expression.

“I just don’t want to make it weird,” Stan says quickly, because he catches the flicker of a frown on her lips. “You know… so I just wanted to let you know-“

“Not weird,” She rushes out, shaking her head as well. “I don’t mind at all. I told you that you deserve to go with someone you’ll have a good time with”

I don’t know how anyone could have a good time with Mercedes, though, she wants to say, but she keeps her lip zipped.

“Cool” Stanley says, and gives her a thumbs up.

There’s a brief second, maybe even half a second, where she wants to take it back. Unfortunately, just as she opens her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, Stan was getting up from the table, and wandering over to another.

No.

“Hey, Mercedes,”

Why do I have to listen to this.

“So I was wondering…”

(y/n) almost covers her hands over her ears. But she’s frozen in her seat, trapped watching the scene unfold in front of her. Stan was smiling, and sat down next to the girl as he spoke excitedly about homecoming, and that he’d like to take her.

(y/n) winced, and waited impatiently- maybe just as impatient as Stan- for Mercedes answer.

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

She looks so happy, and it just about tears (y/n’s) heart in two.

Stan looks even happier, and she feels like the biggest jerk on the planet.

And that’s saying something, since Brad Lewis is sitting just a few tables away from her.

She tries her best to block out the conversation that the new pair are having about plans. He’s picking her up at 7:30, they’ll take a few pictures before heading out, and then he’ll drop her back off after the dance, around 10:00.

Stanley rejoins (y/n) at their lunch table a few minutes later, and she wills herself to give him a smile.

“Sounds like that went well” She says softly, and he grins back at her.

“Yeah, it did”

“Good,” She replies, popping an orange slice in her mouth. “I’m glad”

They eat in silence for a little bit, and Stan starts to get the feeling that he’s upset her. Even though it doesn’t make sense, since she’d turned him down, and prompted him to go ask Mercedes. He doesn’t ask her about it, he’s smarter than that. But he does wonder if it’s true.

“So what are you going to do that night?” He asks.

“Hm?”

“Friday night, what are you going to do instead?”

“Oh, you know, sit around, plotting against the patriarchy” She jokes, but it’s half-assed, and the laugh she lets out fades weakly back into silence.

“Well, if you change your mind, I could come pick you up”

She smiles, and almost agrees, but just as quickly shuts her mouth and shakes her head politely.

“No, no it’s your night, you should enjoy it with your date”

He wants to remind her that they’re friends, and that means a five minute drive is nothing to him, that he’d be happy to bring her along. But the bell rings, and she’s quick to grab her bag and shoot off of her seat like a rocket.

“See you after school?” She asks, and Stan nods.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in the parking lot”

She agrees, and bolts out of the cafeteria without another word.

Stan’s certain that he’s messed up, but he doesn’t understand how, or how to even fix it. ___

[ if you’re over thinking i’ll get high with you // if you’re ever sinking i’ll go down with you ]

They’d only just arrived at the homecoming dance, and already, Stan had gotten himself ditched.

He supposed he shouldn’t have lit a joint in the car. Apparently Mercedes had a thing against weed, and he hadn’t realized that anyone still gave a shit about it. He probably shouldn’t have joked about it either.

Her reprimanding him and letting him know he’ll die a crack addict was her way of saying she wasn’t going to be his date tonight. At least he assumed, because as soon as they walked into the school, she told him to leave her alone, and that she’d be spending the night with her friends.

So for the first twenty minutes of the dance, he found himself sitting on the bleachers. It would be easier if there was at least one other person there, another loner, another reject that hadn’t gotten a date in time. But no, he was the only one. The only loner.

He pulled his sunglasses off his head and put them on.

He contemplated leaving, save himself from further embarrassment. However he figured he’d be even more if he had to tell (y/n) that he ditched the dance early.

He supposed he could lie. He wasn’t all that bad of a liar. Still, (y/n) had a good bullshit detector.

Maybe he could leave now and visit her instead, see if she wants to do literally anything else. People keep sending him looks, some pitiful, some humored, but both were the same amount of hurtful.

Just as he decided he was going to make a break for it, he froze completely, something in his line of sight stopping and vanquishing all thoughts about leaving- all thoughts about anything really.

(y/n) (y/l/n) was standing there, at the gym entrance, eyes scanning the area- Stan assumed looking for him- with a curious sort of smile on her face.

She hadn’t looked his way yet, so he didn’t mind openly staring at her while she stayed hidden in the doorway. The dress and makeup she was wearing is what made her beautiful, but there was a different type of beauty to her that he hadn’t seen before. Something soft and princess-like.

The pale pink dress she wore was simple and silky, and fell just a little past her fingertips, although she was nervously grasping at the material, curling her fingers in and out.

Her hair fell naturally, if not a little curled at it’s ends, and it looked incredibly soft, even from a distance.

Finally, her eyes land on his, and she seems to pause for a minute. Perhaps to collect her thoughts, or deciding if this was still a good idea. He can almost see the gears in her head turning.

But a moment later she’s walking up to him, a shy smile on her lips as she tucks her hands behind her back to stop herself from fiddling with her skirt. She doesn’t want him to see how nervous she is, and she hasn’t realized that he’s been watching her for the better part of a solid minute, so he already knows.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asks, pushing his glasses back on top of his mess of curls once she’s standing in front of him.

“I… um…” She glances around the gym, taking in the balloons, the streamers, the horribly mainstream music playing. “I changed my mind”

She looks back at him, more bashful than he’s ever seen her before. In the last week that he’s gotten to know her, he’s noticed that she doesn’t get shy. She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t fidget.

The (y/n) before him was a completely different girl.

“No shit,” He responds, a smirk on his face. “Why?”’

She looks down at her shoes- an old pair of white heels that she once bought at a second-hand store, Dina had told her she’d need them some day, and apparently she was right- and gave a limp shrug of her shoulders.

And then she reaches her hand out to him, waiting patiently for him to stand and take it.

“Come on,” She murmurs. “I told you that you deserve someone who will dance with you, and not sit on the bleachers”

He chuckles, but his heart is racing in his chest as he extends his hand, gently grasping onto hers as he stands from the bench. A bright smile flashes across her lips, as even in her heels she has to tilt her head back to look at him.

“And that’s you?” He asks.

Neither of them have moved, not an inch. They’re standing just a few inches apart, connected only by their hands. And their eyes, I suppose.

“Looks like it” She mumbles.

He gestures for her to lead the way, and she excitedly pulls him with her onto the dance floor. She knows people are looking at them, for many reasons, she’s sure. But she can’t bring herself to look away from Stan.

He take’s their joined hands and reaches upward, prompting her to spin around under his arm. She gives him a look, but he nods erratically, and she surrenders, giving him a short twirl.

“Oh come on, have some liveliness won’t you?” He mocks her pitiful attempt at dancing.

“I don’t dance-”

“Bullshit, come on, like this,” He says, lifting their hands again, and ducking down dramatically so he can spin around underneath them. It’s a quick twirl, and when he’s facing her again, his free hand does a little jazzy motion.

She laughs, because he’s adorably entertaining.

“Now you go” He said, waiting for her to give it another try.

She pouts for a second,but when she realizes he’s not going to move until she obliges, she throws their hands up enthusiastically and twirls around on her toes. The skirt of her dress fans out with the rapid movement, only making her look a thousand times more graceful as she spins. She gives him a delighted smile as she balances herself on both feet again.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks teasingly, and she only rolls her eyes back at him.

They continue the cute little dance for the rest of the song, sharing laughs and smiles, and forgetting where they even were for a few minutes.

The next song that plays is slower, not exactly a slow song, but not one that’s easy to dance to like they were before.

She doesn’t wait for him to take her hand this time. Instead, she reaches her arms up to wrap them around his neck, and takes a tentative step closer.

Stan hesitates a moment before placing his hands on her waist.

“So,” She speaks to clear the tension in the air between them. “What’d you do to make your date run away?”

He almost laughs at how certain she is that he’s at fault for Mercedes ditching him tonight.

“Might’ve smoked a little pot outside,” He admitted. “I guess she thinks I’m an addict now, or something, I dunno”

(y/n) giggles, which turns into full blown bubbling laughter. Her shoulders are shaking and she’s not swaying with him anymore, all the while Stan stares at her with complete unamusement.

“Come on, Stan, everyone knows she’s obsessed with being pure,” She tells him once her laughter has quietened enough that she can speak. “You smoked a blunt right in front of her-?”

“Yes!” He stresses the word, and she giggles again, shaking her head.

“You’re hilarious,” She says softly, and begins to sway back and forth with him again. “I can’t believe you”

As it gets quiet between them, she looks down at her shoes again. Partially because she doesn’t want to step on his feet as they move, but also because it’s hard to stare at him in silence when they’re so close.

“I asked her what her deepest darkest secret was,” He says suddenly, and she looks up again. “She didn’t have a good answer”

“What’d she say?”

“Okay so she didn’t answer at all. She actually said that it was a weird question” He confesses.

“It is a weird question,” (y/n) repeats, brows furrowed, and quickly follows it with, “But that’s the point”

Stan shrugs in agreement.

“She doesn’t get it” He says with a small smile.

“No, she doesn’t” (y/n) hums back, and then she’s looking at the floor again.

“Hey, um…” He starts to speak but he slows his words and licks his lips. “Thanks. For coming, I mean”

She nods her head, and self-consciously pushes her hair back behind her ear.

“Yeah,” She murmurs. “You know I- I just figured it’s um… it’s our last homecoming… so…” The longer she stammers over her words, the pinker her cheeks turned, but Stan found it endearing. “Why not?” She finishes almost under her breath.

She clears her throat, and forces her nerves to be under control.

“Besides, I had to see you wear this suit again,” She said, playfully tugging at the lapels on his jacket. “So cute” She adds in a mumble.

He laughs at the compliment while she reaches her hands behind his neck again. He can tell she’s fidgeting with her fingers, but again he decides not to comment on her obvious anxiety.

“You look beautiful,” He says, and she can’t help but duck her head down.

Her cheeks are starting to get hot, and there’s no way she’s going to let him see her blushing that hard.

“Really beautiful,” He continues. “I- I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress. No that it matters! It’s just nice- you look nice,”

She laughs softly at how he stumbles over his words, but he takes in a breath to put himself at ease so he won’t ramble as much.

“I think it stems from you being a nice person,” He says. “I mean- you’re beautiful, you are, but, uh, it’s your own self that amplifies that beauty, I think,”

Somehow (y/n) manages the courage to look up at him, her laughter fading as she watches him with a more serious expression. His words are so sincere and heartfelt that they make her feel paralyzed, and she listens to him go on intently.

His tongue darts our to wet his lips, because suddenly they feel very dry, and (y/n’s) staring at him almost expectantly.

“You’re not complicated,” His voice goes soft, and his eyes flicker in between hers as he speaks, absolutely sure of himself. “You’re confusing, you’re very confusing, but… not complicated”

Her own gaze travels his features, lingering on his lips, which she notes are a mere two inches away from hers.

“I-”

“You’re not,” He shakes his head before she can argue with him. “I get that you think you are, because you’ve got all this- this shit, trust me, I get it,” He lets out a short sigh before going on. “But you’re not complicated. Not to me,”

Her eyes are glossy, and if he looked close enough he would’ve seen that the corner of her smile is a bit wobbly.

“Ricky Berry has barely scratched the surface of why he should be so lucky to go out with you,”

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but she’s at a complete loss of words. But there’s nothing to say, nothing proper anyways.

And then she’s smiling, wide, and so, so happy.

“What?” Stan asks obliviously.

She just shakes her head at him.

“You, idiot” She whispers shakily, before leaning up on the tips of her toes, and pressing her lips against his.

It’s a sweet kiss, gentle, as it was a new experience for the both of them anyways. Not to mention much anticipated, so now that it was actually happening, it was almost surreal.

One of her hands drifts from where they’d been latched behind his neck, to lay delicately against his cheek. His skin is soft, and warm against the palm of her hand.

When she starts to lean back to pull away, his hands let go of her waist so that his arms can completely encircle her body, and pull her right back into him. She smiles as his lips slant over hers passionately.

Her hands splayed over his cheeks, before she hooked her arms around his neck again, pulling him down with her when she stands back on her heels again.

When they pull apart this time, it’s slow, and her lips linger against his for a moment, before he stands back up to his full height.

They’re wearing the same nervous smiles, and her eyes dart from the floor to his own shyly.

Stan’s hold on her relaxes, and his arms release her, to place his hands on her hips again.

(y/n) lets out a short breath of a laugh, and the smile on her face is unmoving. She couldn’t wipe it off if she wanted to.

She could, however, reach up towards his lips and drag her thumb over them, effectively rubbing away the pink stain she’d left behind.

“You- uh, you had some lipstick on your mouth” She says with a giggle.

“Did it make my eyes pop?” He asked without hesitation, and she nodded her head as she laughed again.

“Yeah, sure” She answered.

She smiled at him brightly, before stepping closer, and leaning her head against his shoulder. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, but it didn’t matter. Because she’s never been more content than she is right now.

They continue their dance slowly, and in pleasant silence. Eventually, her eyes fall shut, and she’s just standing there, holding him, barely moving back and forth to the sweet love song playing through the speakers.

And when the next song that comes on is an upbeat one, neither of them move.

It’s not until the dance is over, and people are filing out of the school that they decide they’ve had enough. As they walk out to the parking lot, she slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers gently.

He thinks that her hand fits perfectly into his, in a way that’s almost romantic.

“Do you think I could get a ride home?” She asks, looking over to him. “I kinda walked here”

“You walked all the way here?” He asks, and she nods. “In those?” He questions her again, gesturing to her ridiculous heels for walking so far in.

“Yes,” She giggles. “How else was I supposed to get here?”

“I told you to call if you wanted a ride!” Stanley shouts, not angrily, just exasperated that she’d do something so foolish when he’d offered her help. (y/n) laughs at him, and squeezes his hand softly.

“Well at that point I just wanted to get here as quickly as I could,” She murmurs. “I didn’t care if I had to walk that far”

He smiled down at her, and nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course I’ll give you a ride home,” He said as they reached his car. “But, we’re listening to Bloodwitch”

She shrugs, as though to say fine. Not that she really minds, she’s kinda starting to like the band anyways.

The drive to their neighborhood is short, but it’s nice. Stan sings the whole way, and (y/n) doesn’t know the words but she enjoys watching his little performance.

When he pulled up outside of her house, she hesitated for a minute.

“Look, Stan I just… I just wanted to… um…”

“Thank me for the magical night?” Stan asks with a goofy grin.

She lets out a short laugh, a shy one, and nods her head.

“I guess, yeah. I was actually gonna say that I was… um… sorry,” She mumbles softly.

Stan’s brows furrows, and he wonders what the hell she has to apologize for.

“For not saying yes in the first place,” She continues. “I should have. I- I really wanted to go with you, I did,” She adds. “I was just… um… I didn’t want to let you down, you know? I- I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized-”

“Realized what?” He asks, scoffing a bit as he shakes his head. “(y/n), come on, you do know there’s nothing you could say or do that would ever disappoint me, right?”

She shrugs sheepishly, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” He told her, turning in his seat to be facing her properly. “It’s okay”

She gives him a small smile, and shrugs again.

“I… I really like you, Stan,” She whispers, eyes flickering in between his. “And I’m just glad that you didn’t leave before I could get there”

He grins, and despite the blush that’s making his cheeks turn pink, he gets a little bit cocky.

“You like me?” He asks, and now she’s blushing too, as she nods her head in the smallest movement.

“Yeah, I do,” She says in a murmur. “So… are you gonna do something about it?” She teases, leaning in closer to him, over the center console of his car.

He leans in as well, but just as she’s about to close her eyes, he stops, and she waits for him to do something, to make a move, but he doesn’t. She crinkles her brow, eyes flickering almost madly over his features.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly.

He raised a hand to her face, fingers skimming over her cheek. There was a sweet smile on his face as his eyes wandered over her features.

“I just wanted to take a look at you, is that such a crime?” He asks. The comment makes her cheek flush pinker than what’s left of the lipstick on her lips.

“It is when I want you to kiss me, Barber”

She’s teasing him, but she couldn’t help but whisper, her nerves getting the best of her.

He grins, however, hand smoothing over her cheek as he draws her in, before carefully planting his lips on hers.

She melts into the kiss so completely that she leans fully over the center console of the car, her arms wrapping around Stanley’s neck so that she could keep herself balanced, and not fully collapse.

Their soft kiss escalates quickly, as she deepens it, parting her lips the smallest amount, giving him access to trace his tongue over her bottom lip.

She parted her lips further so he could continue, and her fingers dove into his hair, coiling his curls around each finger. She wanted to smile, and it was hard to hold it back, but she managed somehow.

She only released his curls to pull the sunglasses off of his head. In the meantime his hands traveled from her face, down her arms, before landing on her hips, and gripping her hips.

(y/n) shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit on her knees, and she moved forwards a bit, prompting him to sit back in his seat, so that she could crawl over the center console, and sit down on his lap.

However, just as Stanley was leaning back, and (y/n) was maneuvering herself over towards him while trying not to let her dress ride up- too much- there was a sudden and rapid knock on the car’s window.

Confused, the pair pulled away from one another. They shared a puzzled look, before Stan caught sight of who had knocked on the passenger window. His lost expresion quickly morphed into one of fear, and in a shaky fashion, he pointed behind her.

(And when she turned he tugged the hem of her dress down)

“Mom!?” She shrieked, leaping away from Stanley and smoothing out her hair and skirt, hastily trying to make herself more presentable.

Not that it really mattered, seeing as they’d already been caught red-handed.

The girl’s mother didn’t look angry, but she certainly wasn’t amused.

(y/n) was quick to roll down the window, already racking her brain for any sort of excuse or distraction she could use, but her mind was blank, as she was only worried about the trouble she was about to be in.

“Wh-when did you get home?” She asked, forcing a smile towards her mother.

“About thirty minutes ago,” The woman answered.

She leaned over a bit to see into the car better, eyes landing on Stanley, who gave a nervous smile and wave.

“Nice to see you, Stanley,” Mrs (y/l/n) spoke. “Thank you for dropping (y/n) off”

“Y-yeah, no problem,” He answered awkwardly. “I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Despite her own anxiety about this whole ordeal, she grinned at him and nodded.

“Yeah,” She agreed. “Come pick me up in the morning?”

“Will do”

(y/n) gets out of the car, following her mom up to their front door, and talking animatedly- he can only assume it’s about him, which makes his heart do a little backflip.

“Oh, wait I forgot my shoes!”

(y/n) turned to head back to the car before Stan could drive down the street to his own house.

He gives her a funny look as she leans in through the open window.

“I live like- right next door,” He chuckles. “I could’ve brought them over at any point-”

“I know,” She says playfully, and leans in further to give him a quick kiss. “I just wanted to say goodnight”

The smile on her face is bright and beautiful- and it reminds him that someday he has to paint her.

“You’re adorable” He says.

“Goodnight” She whispers back, before grabbing her heels from the floor, and actually going inside.

Her mom had been waiting at the front door and saw the whole interaction, but she didn’t care this time. Her happiness outweighed the awkwardness.

They both went home and to bed with eager smiles on their faces, knowing this next chapter together was going to be an exciting one. Of course, everything was exciting with Stanley Barber, and she wouldn’t have to worry about being left bored and alone in her room again.

[ all i need my baby and a cigarette ]

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#I am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt fanfiction #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber fanfiction #stanley barber scenario #wyatt oleff

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idiotsincorporated · 4 years

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y’all better, and I mean Y’ALL BETTER! hype up Chosen’s new show the same way y’all hyped up IANOWT. He is so talented and deserves this whole world! THERE IS NO EXCUSE THE STREAMING PLATFORM HAS A 90 DAY TRIAL.

pls watch When the Street Lights Go On April 6th.

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dumdumsun · 4 years

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I’m gonna start uploading a reader insert fic with this cutie next week and I’m so excited to share it with y’all 🥰

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #wyatt oleff #ianowt stanley barber #ianowt fanfic #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt x reader #wyatt oleff x reader

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mer-curious · 5 years

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Study Notes [Stanley Barber]

Pairing: Stanley Barber x Reader

Word Count: 664

Warnings: None.

This is my first post ever. It’s kinda short and shitty but well it’s nighttime and I’m sleepy haha. Anyways, thanks for reading!

Stanley Barber.

He was an odd kid. Very odd.

Whenever the rest of us children were having fun, he always looked at us smiling, but never joined. The teachers always looked after him, almost as if they were scared of being sued for not realizing a student had depression or something. Luckily, he never killed himself. He ended up growing into a kinda weird but not really teenager.

Who I ended up falling for. Both metaphoric and literally.

“Are you ok?” He asked holding his hand out for me to grab.

I stood up with his help. “Yes, sorry I didn’t see you coming.”

“Noticed.”

That was the whole fucking conversation. Three fucking sentences, if noticed even counts as one. Why am I even thinking about it?

Sixth period was always the worst one. Jocks running round the halls headed to practice while cheerleaders walk right behind as if they were in a runway. Us who were actually leaving for the day had to wait until their modelling fit was done.

Once I reached the entrance, I quickly left the building and went straight to the parking lot. My friend told me to wait for her there so she could give me the notes to a class we shared. When I got to my friend’s car and she wasn’t there I realized she had until seventh period so I’d have to wait for half an hour.

“Hey” a voice said from behind me.

I turned around and saw Stan walking towards me. My breath got stuck in my throat.

“So, uhm…” he continued. “What are you… why are you here?”

“It’s a parking lot. Am I not allowed to be here?” I faked seriousness.

“No, no, that’s not-“

I interrupted him with laughter. He rapidly caught on the joke and started laughing too. After we stopped, he repeated his question from before. “Why are you here?”

“I’m waiting for my friend to give me her notes”

He frowned. “Is it Ricky you’re waiting for?”

“Maybe” I replied.

It definitely wasn’t Ricky. I was waiting for Dina.

“Oh. What class are the notes from?” He asked.

Was this jealousy I was sensing? It couldn’t be.

“Math. Why are you asking?” I teasingly questioned him back.

“I also have that class…”

And that’s how I ended up sitting in Stanley’s bedroom while he furiously ruffled pages out of his binder while looking for said notes. His hair kept falling onto his eyes, so he was pushing it back again and again, it was getting to my nerves. When the same strand fell to his face again, I got up off the floor and used my hand to put it behind his ear. I went back to my place and noticed he was blushing hard.

When he finally found the papers, he hand them over to me.

“Thanks, Stan. I swear that I’ll give them back to you once I finish copying them”

“No worries.” He replied smiling. “Do you wanna listen to some music?”

Stan stood up and turned on his vinyl player, a song I’d never heard before started playing and we both laid on the floor. Honestly, I wasn’t really enjoying the music, but Stan seemed to be having fun. His eyes were closed and his hands were drumming on the air. I kept looking at him until the song finished.

When another song started playing, he opened his eyes and caught me staring. I immediately blushed and looked away. He quietly laughed and grabbed my cheeks to make me look back at him.

“You-“ he was about to say something but I cut him off with a kiss.

His hands crawled up to hold me by the waist while my fingers played with his hair. We sat on the ground, me on top of him while he left kisses on my neck.

“If I’d known it would end up like this, I would’ve directly asked you for the notes in the first place.

I’m aware that the ending is shit, but I really wanted to post something about Stan as the series just came out. Follow me if you wanna read more. All love xx

#stanley barber #i am not okay with this #stanley barber imagine #i am not okay with this imagine #fanfiction #imagine #wyatt oleff #stanley barber x reader #sophia lillies #wyatt oleff imagine #wyatt oleff x reader

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stanleyitssummer · 5 years

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Rubik’s Cube

Pairing: Stanley Barber x Reader

Summary: Another boring day in your boring life. But when you happen to bump into none other than Stanley Barber, things just might become a little more interesting.

Wc; 749

A/n: ♡ Comments/Reblogs are very appreciated! ♡

Part 2

Beep Beep. Beep Beep.

Fuck. Me.

Beep Beep. Beep Beep.

Fuck. You.

Beep Beep-

“Fine!” You jolt up quickly, reaching over for your alarm clock, only... You miss the button, successfully knocking it out of reach. Groaning, you threw yourself out of bed and picked up the clock.

“Y/N Y/L/N! Turn that goddamn thing off, or I’m going to come in and turn it off for you!”

You weren’t exactly sure what that threat meant, but you figured when it came to your Father, it was better safe than sorry.

Finally turning the sound off, you sighed, throwing your head back.

Good morning Brownsville.

Alright, first order of business, get dressed. You liked getting dressed, it might, arguably, be the best part of your day.

Is that sad? You wondered. Could your life really be so dull that the part of your day that brought you the most joy was simply putting on clothes?

Maybe. Maybe not.

You decide to shrug it off for now. You really need to get out of your own head. You reach into your closet and decide on some mom jeans with a tee-shirt tucked in and some black combat boots. A simple, easy outfit. Plus it’s stylish and it’s comfortable. There’s something about putting on a good outfit that just... makes you feel good about yourself. And hey, feeling good about yourself can be nice for a change!

Okay. School. School sucks, but... It’s better than being in your crappy home (that doesn’t have a heater or air conditioning) and it’s better than being with your crappy Dad (Who doesn’t give a shit about anything you say or do). So yeah, school’s kind of an upgrade.

So here you are, walking to your locker, not knowing that your life is about to change forever. Is that dramatic? Who gives a fuck. Your life sucks, you’re allowed to be dramatic. As you walk, you take note of the people around you. The kids around you were being kids for the most part. Some just talking, some having full on make out sessions.

Yup. That’s high school.

Average, average, average. Wait... Hold on.

Somewhat interesting.You think to yourself.

Blinking, you see Stanley Barber (Your neighbor), Walking by with Sydney Novak (Also your neighbor, but not quite as close.) You’ve never seen them talking before. This is a new development. Stanley Barber is something else, that’s for sure. He’s so weird. But he’s funny, and interesting, and smart, and maybe kinda cute-

“Oof-”

You collided with something. Someone.

“Shit a-are you okay?”

What the fuck?

You look up to see Stanley, standing over you. Just standing. Blinking.

You stared at him as well, trying not to blush. This might be the very first time he’s actually looked at you. And he’s really cu-

“Jesus Stan, I told you not to use that stupid cube in the halls!”

You looked over and saw Sydney, smacking him upside the head.

She looked down at you, “Are you okay?”

Get it together, Y/n. Snap out of it!

“Oh- Uh... Yeah, yeah, I’m fine...” You started to push yourself off the ground.

“Ow-” You heard Stanley mumble. (Sydney must have smacked him again) “Oh... Sorry! Here!” He scrambled to offer you his hand, but by that time you were already halfway off the ground.

After you stood, a few awkward moments went by before Sydney stepped between the two of you, smiling uncomfortably.

“We better get to class. So... We’ll See ya’ around...”

“Y/N.”

That happened in unison. Unison! With none other than Stanley Barber. You blushed. Stanley Barber knew your name?

Stanley coughed when he realized that both you and Sydney were practically staring bullets into him.

“Yeah well- We uh... We have a few classes together and-”

“We’re neighbors!” You smiled.

“Right.”

“Well anyway,” Continued Sydney, “We gotta get to class. See ya around!”

Stanley gave you a small smile before being pulled away. So far away from you.

Whatever. Nothing new.

You stared at your peers, trying to make out their quiet muttering as they walked down the hall together.

“Huh.” You said allowed. You wanted to be annoyed, but, you couldn’t help but smile. Stanley Barber knew your name.

Looking at your watch, you realized it was way past the time you were meant to be in class. So you bent down to pick up your books. But while you were hanging out down there, you noticed something that was left behind.

Stanley’s Rubik’s cube.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Part two?

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

3/19/2020

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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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!

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kneedeepinfandoms · 5 years

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somebody write some more Stanley Barber x readers please. I just finished reading all the ones on Tumblr for him, and i need more.

Also i would write one myself but like I'm currently taking a break from writing imagines right now because of school. So please i need more IANOWT fanfics.

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #taking a break from writing imagines #writing break #stanley barber imagines #netflix #wyatt oleff #need more stanley barber #fanfiction #imagines

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barclaysangel · 3 years

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“Prom Queen”

I meant to post this ages ago but because I have only 2 brain cells, I completely forgot.

But I published a Stanley Barber x female OC fanfic on Wattpad!

I decided to share it on here as well (should I post it on AO3? I never go on there anymore) in case you guys might be interested. It’s hard af for me to write on my own but I’m really trying my best so if y’all like this, please let me know! Your comments mean the world to me!

I’ll post the links for the intro and first chapter from Wattpad down below, I hope you guys will like this :)

Chapter 1~First in Line at the Party

Tabitha Kent was exhausted.

But she wasn't supposed to be. She was supposed to be pretty, popular, perfect. The three p's.

And now, she just didn't feel like it.

Then again, she always lied about how she felt. It was easy for her to do so because to all of the boys and her friends, she was a flawless. They never saw how much she was breaking, not even her own mother.

Her relationship with her mother was...complicated.

Tabitha knew her mom loved her. She just wanted her to the best...no matter the cost.

"Do you really think you should be having a second plate, Tabitha?"

"I think you should skip dessert tonight, Tabitha."

"Put on some more makeup, we don't want anyone to see your blemishes, do we Tabitha?"

"Stop frowning and smile, the boys love it when pretty girls smile, Tabitha."

It wasn't her mother trying to be harsh. She put as much pressure as she could on her daughter to strive for her to be better, that's all.

But Tabitha's father was not like that. Whatever her mother wanted her to do, her father made sure that she did the complete opposite. She was such a different girl when her dad was around. Tomboy, wearing whatever she wanted, no makeup, playing sports.

It was all fun and games until her dad died when she was twelve. And then her mother fully came in and turned her daughter into her perfect little porcelain doll.

And as much as Tabitha to ignore everything that's happened, it began slowly breaking down at her soul.

Her friends didn't know how often she had panic attacks in the bathroom. They didn't know how often she cried herself to sleep. They didn't know how badly she hated herself and the facade she put up in front of everyone.

But they couldn't know. No one could know. Tabitha was the popular girl in Westinghouse high school. The boys and girls flocked around her. If they knew the truth about her, it would destroy her.

"Tabitha, you alive?" The voice of her closest and only real and genuine friend, Dina, spoke up and yanked the blonde right out of her thoughts.

She shook herself out of it, giggling before nodding. "Yeah, sorry. Got distracted."

"You've been distracted a lot recently." Dina pointed out with an eyebrow raised, leaning her back against her locker.

"What can I say? I always have my head in the clouds." Tabitha laughed it off just like she always does and went to class.

Everything after that was the normal routine. Boys and girls talking to her, the former wanting to date her and the latter wanting to be just like her. Hell, sometimes it was the other way around, but the blonde wasn't complaining. She liked the attention. But it was always the same old thing, leaving her more and more emotionally exhausted.

Maybe it was for the best. Change wasn't always a good thing. If Tabitha Kent just spent the rest of her life as everyone's royal queen, everything should be fine. She just needed to suck it up and accept it.

By the time school was finally over, Tabitha felt mentally drained. She just wanted to go home and rip the damn makeup off her skin before taking a long nap.

A shame that the weather didn't seem to get the memo, as it was now pouring down and she didn't have a ride.

"Ah, shit." She muttered, staying by the door of the school to avoid getting wet.

The Kent girl knew that she could always walk home. But that would be a disaster, walking home with her hair and clothes ruined, making streaking her cheeks. Her mother would be so pissed.

She could also ask one of the boys from the football team to walk her home. But they were so obnoxious and she really didn't want to deal with anymore incessant flirting for the day.

"Need a ride?" Tabitha jumped, having been distracted once again that she didn't see an old car pull up close to where she was hiding, the window halfway rolled down to reveal Stanley Barber leaning over the passenger seat when he asked his question.

Stanley was...weird, she supposed. Always listening to music and getting high, never really had any other friend to hang out with. If the girl thought about it, she didn't think he actually did have friends. But he was definitely someone she shouldn't be affiliated with and she had never even talked to him before:

Then why was Tabitha actually feeling tempted to accept his offer and get in his car?

"I-it's okay, I can walk." The blonde said after a moment, cringing internally when she stuttered because Stanley could easily tell that she didn't want to walk.

"Really, it's no problem, Tabitha. We live a couple blocks from each other." He pointed out with an eyebrow raised, clearly making a point. She hadn't realized that they live so close to each other. "I promise you won't melt, your highness."

The last comment made her roll her eyes in annoyance but she did notice the teenage boy crack a smile when she did.

Tabitha should not be doing this. She knows she shouldn't be. This was probably almost social suicide, being affiliated with someone like Stanley, even if she was desperate for a ride.

But she just wanted to go home. She didn't want to deal with anyone else and honestly, it didn't seem like he would be so annoying like the other boys have been all day with her.

And maybe, just maybe, she felt like breaking the rules just a little bit. It was just a ride, how bad could it be?

So as if she had shook hands with the devil himself, she made her decision. The blonde ran over to his car, her hair only getting a little bit wet and pulled open the door before getting in.

She was almost immediately greeted with stench of weed, a smell she wasn't used to and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell.

"You ready?" The boy asked and Tabitha nodded just before Stanley started the car and drove away.

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fight-me-wyatt · 7 years

Text

Wyatt Oleff ~ Coffee Stains

Request/Prompt: "Hellooo since you are taking request's can you do a fluffy Wyatt x reader imagine?ily💝💝💘🎈" from @nctzenaf on Tumblr.

Ship: Wyatt Oleff x fem!reader

Summary: Wyatt accidentally bumps into the reader on the street, spilling coffee all over her. They part ways not expecting to see each other again, until the reader goes to her favourite cafe and gets coffee spilt over her again... by the same handsome stranger.

Type: fluff... not super fluffy though, sorry x

Warning: Only warning is swearing

Word count: 4538 (including A/Ns) I swear these are getting longer and longer. Let me know if you want them shorter!

Hope you enjoy it. Let me know! Oh, and an update on me doing ships, I've decided to split them up with imagines in between, so no, they aren't closed, but it'll just take a long time to do them all! Hope this is okay!

Gif credit to @beep-beep-reddie

Y/N POV

8:14am. I was already late.

To make matters worse, I hadn't had my morning coffee yet, so I was tired and ready to snap.

I walked briskly down the reasonably busy sidewalk. The Autumn air was crisp and sharp, a slight wind blowing against my cool face. I had a loose scarf around my neck to fight off the cold and look stylish while doing it.

I checked my watch again, only to find that time hadn't unwound for me. I was still late.

My sister had been out late last night and had woken me up multiple times during the night, calling me every hour. And she wasn't quiet coming back home either. It was 2am when she crashed through the door, waking me from the short doze I had since the last time she disturbed me. I had decided to help her get into bed, so that it was faster and quieter, giving me more time to sleep. That didn't work in with her plans though. It took an hour and a half to get her ready for bed, and another hour to get her to finally fall asleep. Falling back into bed at 4:30am, I was knackered. I was so tired that when my alarm started blaring at 7am, I slept through it. It wasn't until 7:55am when my sister woke me, complaining about the screaming alarm clock and her pounding headache.

I had jumped out of bed, chucked on clothes, deodorant and shoes, grabbed my purse that contained my work badge, my money and house keys, and rushed out the door.

I worked at a cute bookstore which i had visited so often that they offered me a job. It was the perfect holiday job while school was out. I started at 8am and worked until closing time at 6pm. I did this Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, although it would vary.

Except it was a Monday, past 8am, and I wasn't at work. Because I was getting later by the second.

I looked down at my watch once again, as if this would slow time down.

All it did was slow me down. Even further.

Because I wasn't looking where I was going for approximately 7 seconds, I slammed into someone going in the opposite direction.

I got soaked with hot liquid that had spilt from the other persons takeaway cup. Well, at least I got my coffee.

I let out a sound of disgust, stumbling backwards. The other person caught me by the arms, preventing my fall. I looked up, about to give them an earful about watching where they were going when I saw who had hit me.

He looked like he was around my age, tall, and super handsome. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes stared down at me with concern, he had an apologetic smile on, giving him a dimple on his left cheek, and his brown hair was adorably curly. I promptly closed my mouth.

"I am so so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going! Lost in my thoughts. Are you okay?? Did I hurt you? Oh god, I spilt coffee all over you! I am incredibly sorry. Shit, did it burn you?" He searched my face with concern, biting his lip.

I managed a smile and shook my head.

"No no, it's fine! I wasn't looking either, checking my watch, I was. I’m okay, are you? Don't worry about the coffee, I hadn't had my morning one anyways! It's mostly on my clothes so it doesn't burn. I would buy you a new one since I'm wearing all of yours, but I'm actually in a rush. I'm late to work, you see..." I talked fast, annoyed that I would have to cut the conversation off short.

His eyes widened and he went into another round of apologies.

"Oh, jeez, you're late! I am so sorry! I've made you even later. Don't worry about me, just go! I'm so sorry about this!"

I shook my head, smiling.

"Nah, it's okay. It's not your fault, but I really have to be going. Sorry about your coffee!" I waved goodbye and hurried off.

He nodded and waved goodbye to me.

"Goodbye! Have a nice day at work! Sorry, again" he called after me.

After I had arrived at work at 8:28am, explained to my boss why I was late, showing him my coffee soaked clothes as proof, and started shelfing books, I realised I was incredibly fortunate to have been running late, for if I hadn't been, I never would have run into the cute stranger who spilt coffee over me.

The thought of his eyes and his smile made my day a lot brighter, despite the horrible start. All day, I thought about him and how we would probably never meet again, much to my sadness.

Every time the bell would ring, signalling a customer entering the shop, I looked up hopefully, wondering if, by some miracle, he'd found where I worked and come to see me. Of course, it was never him that walked through the door. It was obsessive and unhealthy, and I knew that, but that didn't stop me from glancing up from the counter when the trill of the bell sounded.

For some reason, I couldn't get him out of my head. Even after several days had passed with no sign of him, he was still lingering in my mind, and stuck in my heart with a pinch of hope.

I tried my best to dismiss the thought of his brown curly hair, his sparkling brown eyes, his cute smile.... but no matter what I tried, he remained in my heart and mind, much to my disgust.

It was now Saturday, and I had managed to push the thought of the cute - coffee spilling - stranger to the back of my mind where it lingered. I had been asked to come in for a few hours today, to cover for another coworker, and I had willingly agreed with nothing better to do.

My coworker finally showed up for her shift at 2:30pm, freeing me. I decided to head for my favourite cafe, where they made the best coffee (in my opinion), where I could read my book with an afternoon coffee.

I wrapped my scarf around my neck, shoved my hands in my deep pockets, and started walking into the sharp whistling wind and towards the cafe.

Today was particularly cold, so I spent no time taking in my surroundings as I usually did. Not even the coldness of the air biting my exposed skin could stop me scanning the bustling crowd of people, all with their own destinations in mind, for that familiar, yet unfamiliar face. I had only seen it once, but I saw it many times after, in my mind.

I kept my pace up, turning my head to curiously look at the many faces of the city. People watching was one of the great things of living in such a busy city. There were thousands of people, all with different life stories, backgrounds, thoughts and experiences. It fascinated me. You could be walking down the street and see an elderly man in a very formal suit, and a teenage girl with spiky green hair, tattoos and leather clothing could be a few short steps behind him, travelling in the same direction in a weird coincidence.

I reached the glass door, with the vine, flower and coffee bean logo, and something nagged at me. Why, after the many, many trips to the cafe, had the familiar logo pulled at something in the very far retches of my mind? I shook my head and pushed the door open, instantly greeted by the high pitched ring of the bell above me, the flood of warmth, the chatter of other customers, and the smell of caffeine and sugary sweet pastries baking. I took a deep breath in and sighed happily.

Letting the door close behind me, I unwrapped my scarf, stuffed it in my bag, and started weaving my way through the people. The cafe was busier than usual, it was a popular place and in the cold weather everyone had gone seeking the warmth of coffee and baked goods.

I made my way to the back of the long line leading up to the counter.

I peered past the person in front of me, to see about ten people fidgeting restlessly in front of me.

Confirming my suspicions of having to wait a while, I dug through my bag and grabbed out my phone. I aimlessly scrolled through tumblr as the line progressively got shorter. The people in front of me slowly broke off as they placed and received their orders, while additional people were always coming to the back of the line.

It was the guy-in-front-of-me's turn, so I quickly stowed my phone away.

He was dark skinned, with broad shoulders and very toned muscles that he didn't even have to flex to prove their worth. He wore glasses and a simple white shirt and jeans.

I peered behind me to see an older lady who was of Japanese descent, by the looks of the strokes of the characters printed onto her wrinkled skin. That, and the fact she was carrying a Japanese to English translation book, pointed me in the direction of her ethnicity.

I smiled at her, embarrassed, realising I was staring. She smiled back kindly. I was about to open my mouth when I was brought back to the task at hand.

"Next please." Called an ever so slightly irritated voice.

I turned back to the teenage boy at the counter and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry... um, can I please get a chocolate mocha and a Danish pastry please?"

The boy nodded and wrote everything down before ringing it up on the cash register.

"That will be $9.50. Your name please? And will you be having it here or to takeaway?"

I quickly handed him the money, awkwardly putting the change back in my wallet, worried about holding up the queue.

"Oh, ah, have here, thanks. And my name is Y/N." I spelt it out to him before making my way over to the group of people who were also waiting for their orders.

"Y/N?" A voice called out, the owner of said voice looking around questioningly.

I muttered 'excuse me's as I made my way up to the counter. I quickly thanked the girl and grabbed my tray, bee lining for one of the only spare tables I could see.

I made it there just before a teenage couple. The girls face turned up in disgust, stomping away with her girlfriend trailing behind quietly, pulled along by their entwined hands. I shrugged apologetically and sat.

I ate my danish first, glad of the soft, warm pastry filling my mouth.

Lifting the coffee cup up, I tentatively took a sip of the hot liquid, not wanting to burn my mouth. I put it back down, wanting it to cool a bit further.

Something tugged at the back of my mind again, as I looked at my coffee and the cup it was in. There was something I couldn't put my finger on, and it was starting to really bug me.

Simply shrugging, I pulled out my current read out of my bag; John Greens latest book. I quickly fell in between the pages, getting lost in the story.

Tuning out the bustling cafe was easy, despite the constant noise of chatter, coffee cups, plates, and spoons clanking against each other, the bells at the counter and on the door, and the familiar sound of the coffee machine.

I had gone through several chapters steadily, the outside world blocked out, when there was a commotion that caught my attention.

I turned and looked just in time to see a women get accidentally shoved into a guy walking past my table. The two hit each other and bounced off; the women into a man who managed to catch her before she fell, and the guy into my table.

The coffee cup he was carrying slipped from his fingers as he hit the table, and the steaming liquid went through the air, almost in slow motion, and landed everywhere.

I was soaked from head to toe.

In coffee.

Again.

Even my book had coffee over it.

I simply sighed, screwing my face up slightly. Wiping the coffee out of my eyes, I finally got a good look at who had spilt the coffee.

There, standing rather sheepish, was the cute stranger. The one who had spilt coffee on me in the street.

I burst out laughing, looking at his mortified face.

"I'm starting to think I must have done something to anger you, due to the amount of drinks you've dumped over me" I teased, grinning.

He laughed, relief washing over his face as he realised I wasn't mad.

"How could you!? Don't act like you don't know." He said clutching a hand to his chest, going along with the act.

I giggled. Cute, funny, and slightly dorky. How was this boy real?

"But, I am extremely sorry. I mean it was bad enough spilling it on you once, when you were running late, but again? When you were just enjoying your book," he gestured down to the book and winced, "and I managed to get coffee on it as well... I am so so sorry." He apologised wholeheartedly.

I smiled and shook my head.

"Don't worry about it. Any of it. I mean the first time woke me up, which I was glad for, and the second time meant I was able to see you again..." I said the last part shyly, blushing, before rushing on, " and as for the book, it's only a couple of coffee stains. It adds character." I grinned, grabbing a napkin to wipe the rest of the coffee off of my face.

He smiled softly, rubbing the back of his neck and biting his lip. "I-uh- um, is this seat taken?" He asked shyly.

I grinned and shook my head, gesturing to it to let him know he could sit. His eyes widened and sparkled, and once again I was transfixed by them.

He sat down across from me, setting his now empty coffee cup on the table.

"I'm Wyatt, by the way, Wyatt Oleff." He said grinning, holding out his hand.

I reached across the table and shook his hand, smiling softly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Wyatt, despite the fact I'm covered in coffee," I teased kindly, "Im Y/N. Y/F/N." I replied.

He nodded, holding my hand a couple of seconds longer.

"Y/N. Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl" he murmured softly before blushing madly.

I blushed and stammered, surprised by his comment.

"O-oh, uh, th-thank y-you..."

He cleared his threat and looked down at his cup, trying to hide his ever growing blush.

"Uh, I'm just going to go get another coffee, since you're wearing mine" he chuckled awkwardly and rose.

I nodded, looking down at his empty cup also. As he walked to the counter, and I kept my eyes on the cup, the thing that had been nagging me clicked.

The shops logo. I had seen it on Wyatt's takeaway cup the first time we meet. He must come here often.

I smiled, thinking about the chances of us running into each other. And how we both happened to be at the same small cafe at the same time. It seemed as though fate was on my side.

As I waited for Wyatt to return, I couldn't stop smiling as I thought about him.

In the time gone by, I managed to clean up most of the spilt coffee, although I still smelt very strongly of coffee. Not that I minded, it was a welcome smell.

Wyatt returned with a smile on his face.

We chatted for several hours, getting to know each other. Neither of us had places to be, neither of us wanted to leave.

We instantly clicked. We had many of the same interests, and we enjoyed each other's company.

As he talked enthusiastically about Zelda, I rested my head on my hand and smiled. He was gesturing madly, his eyes wide and sparkling as he described it. He grinned while talking quickly, rambling cutely. God, I could feel myself falling for him already. What a fucking idiot. But I couldn't stop myself.

His noodle curly hair shook as his head fell back and he laughed at his own joke. I giggled uncharacteristicly, smiling and shaking my head. I wasn't laughing because of his joke, I hadn't even heard it because I had gotten distracted by his handsome looks... but I was laughing at how adorable he looked and how focused on the topic he was.

His eyes settled back onto mine and there was a moment of silence. His eyes searched mine until he realised he was staring and promptly looked down, blushing.

"So, uh... do you come here often?" He winced at how he sounded, looking up at me with a sheepish grin.

I chuckled and took a sip of my 4th? 3rd? coffee, nodding.

"Yeah, I do actually. It's my favourite cafe. Best coffee for miles and miles," I leaned in to say the next part, "even if it's being poured on you" I teased him with a grin.

He blushed and chuckled, sipping at his own current coffee before setting it down and leaning towards me.

"Well, maybe, we should do this again. Have coffee and chat here. And although I can't promise I won't spill my coffee on you, I will certainly try not to." He said with a grin, his eyes hopeful and nervous despite his confident demeanour.

My eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the invitation. I smiled shyly, fiddling with the teaspoon I had been given to stir my coffee.

"Are you... asking me on a date, Wyatt Oleff? " I asked grinning.

He looked into my eyes and I was once again mesmerised by their soft beauty.

"Indeed I am, Y/F/N." he said with that cute smirk of his.

I nodded slowly, tapping my finger to my chin and screwed up my face, as if I had to think very hard and long about the proposition.

"Well, in that case, Mr. Oleff, I think that we should do this again, although I might have to wear a rain poncho to save myself from the dangerous risk of coffee stains again." I teased, smiling.

Inside, my heart was beating 1000 miles a minute and my mind was screaming at me in excitement and disbelief. He nodded and smiled at me triumphantly, and I could see that he was glad of my answer. This made me soar even higher over the moon.

"And so it's settled, Miss Y/L/N. and that is a fantastic idea, rain ponchos are highly recommended. So, uh, can I get your number?" He said the last part shyly, worried I would decline him and cancel the date-to-be.

I nodded happily and slid my phone across the table to him, open on a new contact. He grinned and picked up my phone, quickly putting his details in and sending a text to himself so that he'd have my number.

After he had passed my phone back to me, I checked to see what he'd put his contact name as.

'Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy' stared back at me.

I burst out laughing and nodded.

"Good name choice. Very suitable."

He grinned and winked. I gently plucked his phone out of his hands.

"Now I get to choose my contact name."

He nodded and held his hands up in mock surrender, waiting patiently.

After thinking briefly I typed in: 'Cute Coffee Wearing Girl' And handed his phone back to him.

I laughed as he read it and nodded.

"Another very accurate name. I love it." He grinned before turning towards the girl wearing an apron who was standing by our table.

I hadn't even noticed her, much less the practically empty cafe.

"I'm so sorry to disturb the two of you, but I'm afraid we are about to close up." She said smiling awkwardly.

My eyes widened, only just realising the time.

"Shit. Time flies when you're having fun I guess." I said quietly, sneaking a look at Wyatt as we both collected our things.

Once we were both out on the street and the shy employee had locked up behind us, we turned to each other, both smiling shyly.

"Well, uh I better get going... it's my turn to cook dinner for my sister and I still have to buy everything... but I'm really really glad you spilt that coffee on me. I enjoyed talking to you..." I said shyly, looking down at my feet.

Wyatt nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah no worries, and to be honest, I'm very glad I managed to spill coffee on you twice, because if I hadn't, I never would've been able to talk to you and ask you out on a date... speaking of, I'll text you tomorrow to see when you're free?" He smiled, almost embarrassed by the confession.

I nodded quickly, over the moon with happiness. I stood up on my tippy toes, leaned towards him and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Can't wait." I whispered before quickly walking down the street to hide my reddening cheeks.

Wyatt cute, surprised lopside smile stared after me.

"See yah!" Wyatt called out after a few seconds of shocked silence.

I glanced behind me to see Wyatt waving at me, still with that cute smirk on his face.

I grinned and waved to him, almost running into an older man walking in the other direction.

I apologised profusely, catching the sight of Wyatt laughing out of the corner of my eye.

I turned and walked in the direction of the supermarket with a large smile on my face and a spring in my step. I got a couple of questioning stares, but I was far from caring.

My smile only increased when the familiar 'ping!' of my phone alerted me of a text.

New Text Message From: Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy

'I'm beginning to think you've got a habit of (literally) running into random guys in the street😉'

I giggled down at my phone, reading and rereading the text.

I was so focussed on my phone that I ran into a teenage boy and almost fell on my ass. My eyes widened and I bit back a laugh as he glared at me.

"Sorry!" I called out to his already retreating back.

I burst out laughing as I started to reply to Wyatt.

'I'm beginning to think you're the one making me run into random guys, since you've been the cause of them all! A brilliant example would be the fact that I ran into a guy on the street because I was reading your text😂'

It was only a minute later that he replied.

'A women with kids just stared at me confused and scared when I started reading your text 😂 You really should look where you're going ya know, even though it's hard not to be distracted by me😉'

I spun around on the street happily, a small squeal escaping my lips. I must have resembled Hermione Granger at the Yule Ball in 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' the movie, when Victor Krum kissed her hand and leaves. Here I was, talking to the cute guy that I never thought I'd see again, and he was flirting with me.

'😂 terrorising little kids now are you? Shame you don't have coffee on you to throw at them😏 I swear you're distracting me on purpose at this stage😂'

I pressed send and bit my lip. I shouldn't have sent that. It was weird and not funny... he'll probably never text me again now...

My phone buzzed again, disturbing my thoughts.

'Damn it, you caught on! I knew I should've gotten a cup to takeaway before we got kicked out! And of course I'm distracting you on purpose, the only way to get your attention is to distract you or pour coffee on you! 😉'

I held back an excited scream, reading his message.

'I'm sure you would've grabbed one if they hadn't ushered us out in ten seconds flat!😂 hmmm hadn't thought of that... have you tried just asking for my attention?'

I bit my lip before looking up and realising that I was at the supermarket.

I went around, gathering everything I needed for dinner in a daydream, all the while chatting to Wyatt.

We continued texting for the rest of the night throughout cooking and eating dinner and I didn't even notice the teasing comments from my sister.

We were still talking as I climbed into bed, and we continued to talk as my eyes grew heavy.

I warned him that I may fall asleep at any moment, and a couple of messages later I couldn't keep my eyes open.

I fell slowly into a pleasant sleep with no dreams that I would remember in the morning.

It may have been a different story if I had seen the text Wyatt sent me 10 minutes later when he realised I had fallen asleep.

My phone lit up and buzzed on my bedside table. In my sleeping state, I stirred, but did not wake, and settled back in again. The bright phone screen illuminating the room announced the text from Wyatt.

New Text Message From Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy:

'It seems like despite all that coffee you wear, you've fallen asleep. So you won't see this until the morning, but I just want to say that I really really enjoyed today, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night? (That way the threat of coffee being poured on you is lowered) I totally understand if you don't want to, but I would love to take you on a proper date. '

Ahahahahahahaha I'm terrible at endings. I always rush them sooo much. Also, does this count as fluff? I'm hoping so. Feel free to request more parts of certain imagines I've written, I may get around to them ages after, or I may decide not to continue them, but if you let me know that you want them, I'll definitely consider it!!

Taglist:

@alwaysmebeforeyou

@thedillpickleisnotafruit

@that-kitty-dork

@finnie-wolfhard

@anevenstrangerblog

@it-reader

feel free to ask to be on the taglist!

490 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 5 years

Text

Stay

Pairing: Stanley Uris x reader

Warnings: Suicide attempt, suicide mention, stuff to do with suicide, swearing, short story, Spoliers, Stan doesn’t die, slight angst

masterlist

Y/n saw Stand’s eyes and shaky hands when he answered the phone. She knew of his friend Bill and she knew of Bill’s stories...and their horrible endings. Anyways, he kept calm and when he ended the call, then looked over to Y/n. She was already halfway over to him with the look.

“Who was that?”

“No one, it’s okay.” She knew when he was lying. No one could lie to Y/n.

“Stan. I love you, but seriously. Who was that?”

“It was...an old friend. Mike.” Her being able to see that he was lying also came with her being able to get him to tell her what he was lying about. Pretty handy if she ever wanted to be a mom.

“What did he want?”

“For me-” He inhaled. Stan often did this when he was caught lying by his wife. She grabbed his hands and rubbed her thumb against his skin softly. “For me to go back to Derry.” She pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back softly. He spoke little about Derry, but he had stated that he never wished to return.

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can stay here with me.” Y/n rested her head on Stan’s shoulder.

“I can think about it, my love. Do you mind if I take a bath before dinner? I’m not feeling too well.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows but nodded. She didn’t know what Stan was planning, but she knew that the man didn’t take bathes too frequently. This was what she dubbed, “suspicious”. The mental note of sneaking in on him was made right away.

He got up from his puzzle and walked over to Y/n, who was putting some of the dishes away. Stan waited for her to be finished, then connecting their lips with a small chuckle. He said he’d see her after his bath and left for the bathroom.

She cooked dinner until she heard the water start poring in. The signal for her to start making her way over. She opened the door slightly. In the tub sat Stanley with a razor blade. He didn’t cut himself yet, but he was damn close to. His wife darted over to him and knocked the blade from his hands.

“WHAT’RE YOU!? FUCKING CRAZY?!” Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wide and darting around, trying ever so hard to find the ones that she loves. “YOU...you...you would’ve left me alone...” Behind his tough and badass wife was a shy and cautious girl. A girl who disliked being without another and afraid. A girl who couldn’t live without her husband.

“I’m so sorry...”

Sure, he was naked, but it didn’t matter. His wife had picked up the blade and tossed it out of the tub, clinging to her husband’s hands. One of which, came up and caressed her cheek. Their eyes met with love and adoration.

“Please...please don’t leave me here. Just stay with me. We can call your friends and say that you died, anything, just please! Please don’t do this to me!”

“We made a pact when we were younger...”

“So!? You were just about to off yourself so you wouldn’t have to go, please just stay here with me!” Her sobs broke his heart. He hated seeing his wife hurt, just as much as it hurt her seeing him the same way.

“Fine...promise you’ll make up something?”

“Stanley Uris. I promise...just as long as you promise you’ll stay.”

“I promise.”

“I love you, Stan...”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

. . .

“Hello? Mrs. Uris, I’m Beverly Marsh, I’m an old friend of Stanley’s. Is he okay?”

He was. He was sitting next to his wife with an anxious look on his face. “No... he has unfortunately passed.” Stan gave his wife a thumbs up. She sounded so sad and distressed, it was perfect. “Yeah... he... the bath... Oh god...”

She finished her call with Beverly. Of course they felt bad about lying, but if they had told the truth, Stanley would never be able to stay with Y/n. Would the clown know? Probably? Maybe? It didn’t matter to the two because it wasn’t the present. It was the future and something that could be thought about when it was considered the present.

Stanley hugged his wife, rubbing her arm in reassurance. “Stanley?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really glad you chose to stay.”

“Me too.”

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dreamdaydreamer · 5 years

Text

27 Years [Adult Stan Uris]

A/n: This is over 2000 words, I got carried away, sorry about that! But anyway, hope you enjoy. Requests are open! :)

***

Twenty-two years. That’s how long it’d been since you’d last seen Stanley Uris. He left Derry in 1994, just like you, to go to university. You promised to keep in touch, to see each other as often as possible, you were in love after all. But for some reason that had never happened. At first you would call each other as often as possible. Then it slowly became less and less. Until one day you just stopped speaking. Stopped meeting up. Stopped everything.

Soon after you finished your degree, you ended up back in Derry, having to move back there when your father died and deciding to stay. Until then, you’d forgotten all about Stanley Uris, it was only when you had gone back to Derry that you started to remember. Started to remember him, and the days you would spend together, bird watching, playing board games, studying. You had a lot in common with him, at the time you had believed that you were soulmates, but you didn’t believe that anymore. You didn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.

You’d tried to pursue some sort of happiness in Derry. You dated a few guys, no one special though, no one like Stan. You never fell in love with anyone like you had been when you’d been in love with him. So instead you settled by yourself, opening a little book shop in town, quite popular with the locals. You lead a quiet life, and for the meantime, you were happy with that. You attempted to push Stan to the back of your mind and, although you really did try, it proved very difficult, seeming to be able to relate anything to memories of him.

The autumn season had started to come into its own. The weather cooling down from the blistering summer, breezes whistling through town although it still wasn’t cool enough to wear a coat, orange and gold leaves scattered the path.

It was just a routine day in your simple life, stocking shelves and serving the few people who came in. It wasn’t really the shopping season yet, most of your customers came closer to Christmas, burdened with the rush to buy presents for others. And so today you mainly sat behind the counter, reading a copy of one of your own books, sighing to yourself from time to time when the reading strained your eyes too much and you had to put the book down, boredom overtaking you once again.

Stan made his way through the Derry streets, reminiscing about all the time he’d spent there as a kid. When Mike had first called Stan, memories of Derry had come rushing back to him. Mostly the Losers Club, what they had faced together, as well as the good memories they had made over the years. And then he remembered you. He wondered how he could have ever forgotten about you. You were his first love, his only love. Quite possibly his soulmate, Stan realised this was probably why he had never married over the past twenty-two years. He had tried to settle down, to be in a serious relationship, but he never could. The people he had dated were nice but there was always something that wasn’t quite right, Stan could never put his finger on it. Until now.

Throughout his short time back in Derry, Stan had wondered whether you were here. He knew that you’d gone to university, and he knew that you had bigger dreams outside of Derry, but maybe, just maybe you were here. Maybe he would get to see you again.

Derry hadn’t changed much since the last time Stan had been there. The shops were mostly the same. The antique shop, the pharmacy, the ice cream shop, all stood exactly where they had done twenty-seven years ago. It was like Derry was its own time capsule. History trapped in modernity. The buildings looked more derelict than Stan could remember, but the signs and decorations stayed the same, paint peeled off them now. There was something new though. A bookshop. A bookshop that stood on the corner of the street, the most recent shop to open judging by the appearance of it. The oak wood hadn’t faded, the windows were sparkling clean and the signs hadn’t started to peel off. Stan had to double-take when he saw the name of the shop. Y/n’s Corner. His mind instantly thought of you, you had always loved books. He crossed the road, moving to stand in front of the window, peering in. At first, he couldn’t see anything, and his heart sank. Of course, you wouldn’t be here, you were probably out living your best life, successful, married maybe, a family. The thought chewed Stan like a dog would a bone, sinking its teeth into his flesh. It’s not that Stan wouldn’t be happy for you, he would, he would just wish that it would have been him you had married, him that you’d chosen to settle down with. As he flipped the idea over and over in his mind, he caught a glimpse of someone at the counter of the shop, and with a closer look, he knew it was you. Even though it had been so long since you’d seen each other, he recognised you immediately, you were still the same beauty he had been in love with twenty-two years ago. You disappeared into the back of the shop as Stan entered, the little bell above the door chiming.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” God, Stan thought, even your voice is the same. Lilting, and made Stan’s heartbeat twice as fast. In a few moments, he would be face to face with you, after all this time. What would he say to you? He had too much to say, not sure where to even start. He wanted to apologise for being away for so long, for forgetting, he wanted to tell you that he’d missed you, even if he hadn’t remembered you, there was always a part of him missing, and that it was you, he wanted to tell you how much he loved, loves, you, and how, even now, after all of this time, his heart beats only for you. How when he hears your voice, a smile makes its way onto his face subconsciously, how when he sees your face, he can hear the blood pumping round his body, he becomes light-headed and his knees turn weak, just like they had done when he saw you for the first time. He feels like a teenager again, feelings all jumbled and messy but it’s perfect and he feels liberated for the first time in years. He’s planned a speech in his head of everything he wants to say and how he wants to say it, maybe it will be just him spilling out his thoughts and feelings into one big sentence, the words tumbling out of him before he’s able to pull them back into his mouth. But they’ll be there, out in the open, no matter how they get there, then you’ll know. You’ll know how much he loves you. But how will you react? What if you hate him? What if you resent him because he forgot about you? What if you don’t love him anymore? Stan wouldn’t know what to do. What would be the point in carrying on when all he’s lived for is gone. You’re the reason he forced himself to come back to Derry, to face this clown, the hope that he will finally be able to live the life he’d always wanted too, with you. Even so, he’s ready to tell you all that he feels, no matter the outcome.

But then suddenly you’re stood in front of him. And everything he had planned to say, everything he wanted to tell you, runs away from him so fast that there’s no point chasing after it. Neither of you say anything, there was no reason too. Everything that the both of you wanted to say hung in the air between you, hidden in the irises of your eyes, pushed out in the short breaths. You couldn’t believe that he was there, in front of you, and your face paled, like you were seeing his ghost. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. And to him, you are. You’re every star in the sky, every pearl in the sea, every flower on the land. You’re every breezy spring day and romantic winter night wrapped up into one, emitting warmth and light and love with every movement. He’s looking at you in awe, he’s making you feel like he used too twenty-two years ago. He’s making you feel loved.

Twenty-two years ago, you had been in love. Twenty-two years later, you were still in love. You wondered whether it was Derry, everything here always stayed the same, maybe that meant the people within it too, maybe the reason why you still loved him was because Derry had frozen you in time. Still ageing, but always the same. But you also wondered whether it was just Stan. Stan. The man you’d loved for so long simply because of who he was. Maybe you were still in love with him because it was too hard to fall out of love with a man like that.

Then he smiles at you shyly, almost like he’s embarrassed, and in that moment, he looks younger, much younger. Like when you first met and he was looking up at you from the floor of the school corridor, after you’d shouted at Henry Bowers for pulling Stan’s Kippah from his curls. Any thought that the man in front of you isn’t Stan, that he’s some kind of imposter, fades away from you as realisation sets in. It is him. For some reason the thought shocks you more than his presence, after believing for so long that you would never see him again, the fact that he’s here, before you, makes you violently shiver and you wrap your arms around yourself as a tear slips down your face. You don’t know why you’re crying; you’re feeling too many emotions at once. Elation, love, relief, but also sadness too, sad that you’d missed out on so much time with him.

Stan doesn’t know why you’re crying either, so he panics, maybe he shouldn’t have come back. Maybe you really do hate him. He’s hurt, of course, but he only wants the best for you, only wants you to be happy.

“I…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come. You must hate me, and I understand, I mean I…” Stan continues to ramble, listing all of the reasons why he should leave, and then he is. He is leaving and you’re pulled out of your trance. You can’t let him leave again. Stan makes his way to the door, but he’s stopped by a small tug on his woolly cardigan, when he turns, he sees you stood there, tears streaming down your face as you continue to cling to him.

“Please don’t leave me again, Stan.” You push yourself into his arms, burying your face into his chest and crying even harder than before. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around you as he immerses himself in your scent. Your hair still smells heavenly and your scent takes him back to when he was young, warming him from the inside out and sending tingles down his spine, a feeling of safety blooming in his stomach. Stan doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is right now, knowing that you’ve missed him as much as he’s missed you.

The past twenty-two years Stan had been frightened, frightened of his past. And sure, he has good reason, he was traumatised by a child-killing clown. He almost nearly skipped out on returning to Derry altogether, not sure whether he was brave enough to face his fears again, but now he’s glad that he did. Now, Stan’s more motivated than ever to kill IT, so that he can have the life he’d always wanted, with the person he’d dreamt about could never quite remember.

You and Stan spent the next hour catching up in the back room of your shop. It served as a mini kitchen, small but practical, with a little breakfast table pushed up to the wall. You both sat, sipping from your warm mugs, as your hands intertwined on the tabletop, neither one of you wanted to let go now that you had found each other. The way that you both talked, it was like you’d never been apart. Stan tensed up after you asked what he was doing back in Derry.

“It’s…a long story. A story I don’t think you would believe. Hell, I don’t think I believe it myself.” You nodded, in slight disappointment, Stan had never been the type to keep anything from you. “I want to tell you, I do,” Stan rushes out, “I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy!”

“You know I would never think that about you, Stan.” You try to reassure him, but he wouldn’t crack.

“When this is all over,” he starts, unsure that it ever would be over, “I’ll tell you, I promise.” You nod slightly. “I need to go. Duty calls.” A small chuckle escapes the both of you before Stan pulls himself out of the chair, reluctantly slipping his hand out of yours. He reaches the door, but then turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I’ll come back, if that’s alright with you?”

“Be careful, Stan.” You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew that this thing, whatever it was, was serious. Dangerous, even. “Promise me I’ll see you soon?”

Stan’s heart flutters, you did want to see him again. He nods,

“Very soon. I promise.”

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glazslippers · 4 years

Text

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Pairing: Stanley Uris x OC (female) Warnings: cursing

Summary: Quinn had spent her whole life protecting other women from the dangers of men. When she met Stanley, she thought he was just like every other boy she had come across, sex craved and egotistical. Although one of those was correct, that didn’t stop the feelings she felt towards him form.

A/N: this is my first fanfic i’ve posted on here and i honestly feel like a mom on snapchat. if you like it please let me know and i might continue writing things like these in the future! (i’m really sorry if this sucks)

Even though Quinn Macey had moved to Derry less than three months ago, that didn't stop her from making tons of friends. They loved her outgoing and sarcastic personality and the fact that she didn't take shit from anyone. She wouldn't constantly stick up for them at school and in town if there was a guy trying desperately to get into their pants. She was often nicknamed spitfire or hot head or a string of other names, drawing inspiration from her short temper and red hair.

It was no secret that in the three short months she'd lived in Derry, she gained a string of female friends partly because she refused to talk to any of the boys at school or on town. It was her own personal grudge that she held against every living male. They didn't cause anything but trouble in her opinion and the only thing on their mind was sex.

Because of her refusal of boys, many of them and even a few girls had coined her as lesbian, not that she minded. She dressed girly enough, but when she wanted to she could get down and dirty, playing a variety of sports. In her old town, she played on a softball team that won a few state-wide games. She had also dabbled in football and soccer. Though soccer wasn't her favorite, she played it anyway.

When she moved to Derry, she had to quit her team and say goodbye to her friends, which she probably won't hear of again. Starting at the end of the school year might have been hard for anyone else opposite of Quinn. She decided to start out nice, warming up to everyone but when a few guys tried hitting on her, she quickly put her in their place and made it clear she wasn't interested. They had bugged her over and over. If it was just some one time thing she might have looked passed it but since they kept on pestering her, she had to take matters into her own hands.

The last day of school was nearing an end and Quinn found herself eyeing the clock. Her reasoning behind staring at the gadget was nothing more than "maybe if I stare hard enough it'll tick faster." It obviously didn't get the memo, and continued ticking at its agonizingly slow pace.

Maybe it was the sun shining from outside through the classroom window onto her skin, or the fact that she couldn't wait to get out of the retched classroom and was bouncing her leg up and down so much that she had broken out into a small sweat but one thing was certain: today had to be the hottest day of the year.

Quinn thought of the regret she had for wearing jeans and had her hair down while she fanned herself off with her right hand. She had already tied her shirt up as high as the school would allow but it didn't help because of the broken AC system in the class she was in. She looked outside, seeing the seniors leave school early, being dismissed by the teachers because they were upperclassmen and did the calculations in her head. If the seniors already walked out, they must have been released by the teachers, like everyday, five minutes before school let out. Quinn started counting down from 300 in her head.

297, 296, 295.

She couldn't focus on whatever the teacher was saying. The small heat stroke she was having didn't help with focusing either.

230, 229, 228.

She leaned her head back, fanning her neck and wrists. Her once ice filled water bottle became a lake of boiling lava in her metal cup.

134, 133, 132.

Quinn wondered if she had gotten to the halfway mark or already passed it while she was counting. She didn't think she could take one more minute of being without air. Black spots clouded her vision and she lied her head against the window.

97, 96, 95.

She was getting so close. Less than a hundred seconds to go until she could escape the body heat filled room and into the hot summer air. At least she would feel something other than hot.

Quinn was two seconds away from ripping her shirt off and using it as a noose when the bell rang. She sprung up as fast as she could and bolted out of the door. One of her friends, Savannah, walked by her and Quinn grabbed her arm.

"I'm dying," she said in between pants.

Savannah raised an eyebrow at the dramatic girl in front of her. "You good?"

"Do I look good?" Quinn retorted. "I am the definition of lava. If you look it up in the dictionary you'll see a picture of me melting."

"I take it you're hot?"

"How are you not? It's literally two hundred degrees out!"

Savannah rolled her eyes and closed her locker. Ah head just cleaned everything out and placed it all into her book bag. With an amused smile, she looked down at Quinn who had her head against the tall blue lockers. "Wanna go swimming?"

The words sparked energy into Quinn's body. Suddenly, she didn't realize that she had drops of sweat rolling down her face or the bottom of her hair had stuck to her neck. All she cared about was the cool release of hitting the cool body of water and cooling off.

At the mention of swimming, Savannah watched Quinn's eyes widen and laughed. "I'm guessing that's a yes?"

"That's a hell yes!"

Quinn and Savannah hopped out of Savannah's car and Quinn had never undressed herself so fast in her entire life. She stripped down to her underwear and immediately ran and jumped off the cliff that towered over the river. Savannah looked over the edge, worried when her friend didn't pop back up but let out a sigh of relief when Quinn's head poked its familiar red hair out of the water.

"Come in it feels so nice!" She yelled up at the brunette looking over the rocks.

"I don't know, Q. It's pretty high up."

"Just jump! It'll be over in an instant!"

Savannah shook her head and backed away from the edge. "I can't do it."

Quinn rolled her eyes and swam to land. She crawled out of the water and hiked back up to where Savannah was standing. Her wet body weighed her down but the second she rang her hair out it felt as if she lost five pounds.

"Here," Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand. "I'll jump with you."

"Quinn," the brunette whined.

"Don't whine, you baby. It's just a few feet."

"A few feet?" Savannah yelled with wide eyes. "Girl, that is at least three hundred feet."

"Maybe, but once you jump you'll realize it's not that high at all."

"Yeah, but I'm not jumping."

Quinn groaned. "Sav, I'm gonna day this in the nicest way possible: stop being such a pussy and jump."

Savannah frowned. "That was you being nice?"

Quinn shrugged and cornered Savannah where she was back to the edge. "You're either gonna hump or I'm gonna push you. You're choice."

"Quinn," Savannah warned. "You better back up." The ginger smirked and an evil glint shone across her eyes.

If it weren't for a group of teenage boys pulling up on their bikes behind them, Savannah would've been done for. The girls' head snapped around to see who had joined them. There were four boys, obviously outnumbering them and probably had the same idea they had after school let out. They threw their bikes to the ground and some removed their shoes while the other removed their shirts, obviously not noticing the two girls half naked in front of them.

Stanley turned his head to the direction of the cliff, sprinting over to it but stopped when he saw the girls. "Um, what're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Quinn said with a little more attitude than she meant.

"Well, obviously we're gonna swim. So, why don't you too head home and play with some Barbies or whatever."

Quinn scoffed and Savannah sighed, knowing what her friend would do in this situated. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Stanley rolled his eyes. "Get lost."

"I'm sorry, who was here first?"

By now, the rest of the boys came over to their friend, backing him up against the girls or one girl in particular. "We come here every summer so it's our hangout," Richie said.

"Oh, sorry. Well just be on our way then."

Stanley crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows when she didn't move.

"What, you thought I was serious?" Quinn bitterly laugh. "I knew boys were dumb, but I didn't think they were that dumb."

"W-We're not d-dumb!" Bill replied.

"Well?" Stanley said.

"Well what?"

"Leave already!"

Quinn put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "No. We were clearly here first. Doesn't matter if you guys come here every summer or not."

"You must be new around here cause this is our space," Richie spike.

"And so what if I am? I don't see your name on this cliff."

Stanley glared at the girl in front of him. "Who do you think you are?"

"Quinn Macey." She smiled almost taunting him to keep bugging her, which he gladly did.

"Well, Quinn Macey, why don't you and your friend head home before you get yourself jumping off this cliff."

Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand protectively. "Her name is Savannah and I've already jumped it. But you pretty boys are probably too chicken to jump aren't you?"

Stanley scoffed and walked forward, making the friends behind him walk forward too. "You think we can't jump it?"

"Nah I don't think that's it. Maybe it's the fact that you're just threatened by two girls who rightfully deserve to stay at your precious little river."

Stanley laughed. "You think we're threatened by you? A spoiled brat that can't stand not getting what she wants?"

"You little-" Before Quinn could get close to Stanley, Savannah held her back by her arms. Quinn obviously struggled against Savannah's grip but the brunette wasn't looking for a fight, she just wanted to swim.

"Stan, maybe we could just share it," Eddie whispered to the curly headed boy in front of him. He also wasn't looking for a fight and wanted to remain peaceful, knowing Stan was too stubborn to give up and Quinn probably was the same.

"Share? Ed, have you gone crazy? Why would we share the river with some random girls?"

"Well, I don't really wanna fight over it and it seems like the best option. We both get what we want," Eddie shrugged.

"I-I'm fine w-with sharing," said Bill.

"Not you too," Stan sighed and looked at Richie. "Rich, tell them sharing's not an option."

Richie looked away from Stanley, kickoff the dirt underneath him. "I mean, all I want to do is swim. I guess it wouldn't matter if there are chicks in the water or not."

Stanley groaned. "Fine."

"So you guys are leaving?" Quinn asked, crossing her arms.

"No, we're gonna share," Eddie explained. "That way we both can swim."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "No way. There's no way-"

Savannah cut Quinn off. "We'll take it!" At the ginger's gaze she shrugged. "What? I want to swim."

"Good." With that the boys finished taking off their clothes, leaving them in only underwear.

"So, are we swimming with strangers or..." Savannah trailed off.

"That's Bill, Eddie, and Stanley," Richie introduced, "and I'm Richie."

"Savannah and Quinn," the brunette formally introduced.

Stanley and Quinn kept glaring at each other during the introductions as if the first person to look away would lose their little mind game between just the two of them. During this time, Eddie, Bill, and Richie had already jumped from the cliff. Quinn obviously had no intention of moving her gaze until Savannah grabbed her arm. She cursed herself when her head turned to meet Savannah's gaze. Stanley held a satisfying smirk on his face because he had won their staring contest.

"Q, I'm just gonna take the long way down."

Quinn frowned. "No jumping?"

"You know I'm terrified of heights."

"Fine. I'll be down in a minute."

Savannah walked away leaving Quinn alone with Stanley. Stan walked up next to her and got into position for a running start. Quinn followed his actions, giving him a challenging smirk. Stanley narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze ahead. They took off at the same time, another wordless challenge adapted to see who could jump the farthest.

Quinn thought for sure she jumped farthest and swam back up to the surface with a satisfying smile on her face. That was until she saw Stanley pop his head up and flip the hair out of his eyes. He was just a few feet in front of her and a frown formed on her face when she saw the teasing glint in his eyes as if he was dying to annoy her by saying he had gotten farther than her.

With a huff, Quinn swam over to where Savannah had gotten in at and began chatting with her, occasionally swimming further out to get away from the boys.

Stan tried his best hiding the looks he gave Quinn from afar but the boys had caught on since he wasn't that good at hiding. Richie splashed Stan's face to stop him from staring.

Stanley wiped his face and glared at Richie. "What was that for?"

Richie smirked. "You were staring."

"Was not."

"We're to."

Eddie joined in. "It was kind of obvious that you were staring, Stan."

"Stan l-likes Q-Quinn," Bill teased.

Stanley splashed Bill in the face to shut him up. "No I don't. I'm just annoyed that they're here."

"I'm not," said Eddie. He turned to the girls that were a little further out than they were. "Hey, guys!"

Their heads turned to the voice shouting at them. Stan's eyes went wide as he hit Eddie in the arm. "What are you doing?" He whispered.

Eddie shrugged. "Inviting them over for a game." He turned to the girls that started swimming over, led by Savannah. "Wanna chicken fight?"

"How do you play?" Savannah asked. The boys stood on the shallower end so when the girls came up, the water was up to their chests. Quinn stood behind Savannah with her arms crossed, not particularly wanting to be around Stanley.

"One person gets on another person's shoulders and fights the other team. The first first to knock the other off, wins," Eddie explained.

"Okay, who's gonna get on who?" Quinn questioned.

"We'll switch it up so it doesn't really matter right now."

"Okay, Savannah. Hop on." Quinn went under water and let Savannah climb on top of her shoulders. When she was on, Quinn went back above water and grabbed onto Savannah's thighs so that she wouldn't go anywhere.

"How the hell did you-" Richie started but was interrupted by Quinn.

"Sav's a twig. She weighs, like, two pounds."

Richie got on Bill's shoulders while Eddie and Stanley watched. Richie and Savannah grasped hands and started fighting. Bill and Quinn navigated to help better their team's chances at winning by moving from side to side or forwards and backwards. It was a tough fight, but eventually Richie was the victor. Richie yelled how proud he was and Bill shook him off his shoulders.

"Who's next bitches?" Richie asked, ready for another round.

"I wanna go," Quinn announced. Savannah seemed to have a lot of fun and it would be extremely satisfying to knock one of the boys off. "Sav?"

Savannah's eyes widened. "Um, no offense, but I'm not as strong as you."

Quinn playfully glared at her. "Are you calling me fat?"

"Don't worry, Quinn. Stan's pretty strong, he'll be able to hold you," Richie winked.

"I'm not fat!"

"Alright, Eddie get your ass over here so I can get on your shoulders. Quinn you get on Stan's shoulders," Richie instructed. Stan and Quinn's eyes widened at the boy's words.

"No way!" They yelled in unison.

"Everyone else has gone. Stop being losers so we can play the game."

"Fine," Stanley huffed and went under water so Quinn would have an easier time of getting on. After a few seconds, he still didn't feel her weight on his shoulders and popped back up. "You just gonna let me drown?"

"That was the plan," Quinn admitted with a smirk on her face.

"Will you just get on, brat?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Stanley dipped back under water and Quinn crossword over his shoulders. He came back up and placed his hands a little too high up for Quinn's comfort. She smacked them away but the second she started falling back tugged on Stan's hair. His neck got hot and the tips of his ears went red. "Got a thing for hair pulling, pretty boy?"

"I won't hesitate to let go," Stanley warned.

The truth of the matter was that Stanley was beet red. Only Eddie and Richie could see him like this and to anyone else they would've thought that Stan was just having a tough time keeping Quinn up. Except that was the opposite of what was happening. Stanley was quite strong as he used the muscles in his legs to hoist them up out of the water.

It just so happened that the mix of hair pulling (one of his turn ons), the fact that her stomach was up against his head, and the his touch on her thighs made him blush all over. Oh, and also because her crotch was sitting on the back of his neck.

Quinn and Richie joined hands and the boy knew that if Stanley was in his place he would've had a field day at what he was witnessing. Because Quinn was bent over and her arms had squeezed to the sides of her breasts to meet Richie's arms, her boobs had smushed together. Richie didn't dare look but he could still see them from where he looked on her face.

They fought back and forth, Quinn pushing at Richie and the other way around. She would occasionally grab onto Stan's head to regain her balance and when she did, Stanley backed up so that Richie wouldn't take the opportunity to knock her off. After a few minutes of struggling on both ends, Quinn eventually pushed Richie off Eddie's shoulders.

The boy went down with a loud yell and defeated, emerged from the water with a frown. "I really just got beat by a girl."

Quinn had a proud smile on her face. "Don't take it personal, I'm just stronger than you." She patted Stanley's head. "You can let me down now."

Stanley went under water and released his grip on Quinn's thighs. Once he didn't feel her on him anymore, he returned to the surface, almost bumping into her. Neither said anything, but both had a small blush on their cheeks as they swam to their separate groups.

Savannah didn't miss the pink tint on Quinn's cheeks and shared a knowing look with Eddie. She and Eddie walked onto land that was about two yards away to get away from the others.

"So, are they in love or are they in love?" Savannah laughed.

"All of the above," Eddie responded with a smile similar to the girl in front of him and looked at Quinn and Stanley who were hiding behind both Richie and Bill.

"And what are we gonna do about it?" Savannah asked, rocking on her feet.

"What do you mean?"

Savannah rolled her eyes. "Well, if we're gonna set them up we gotta have a plan."

"Oh, right. How about we all go to the movies and make them sit next to each other?" His eyes suddenly went wide at the thought he had. "And they can share a bucket of popcorn!"

"Shh," Savannah shushed him. "That's a good idea. But what movie are we gonna see?"

"How about a horror movie?" Eddie suggested.

"That's genius! I know Quinn and she gets scared easily. A scary movie will have her jumping into his arms."

"The theater's doing a rerun of all the eighties scary movies on Saturdays. So tomorrow they'll be playing A Nightmare on Elm Street."

Savannah nodded. "We'll be there."

"Are you gonna be scared?"

Savannah laughed at his question. "Hell no. If there's one thing I have over Quinn it's scary movies. I love them, she hates them."

"Alright, we'll meet you guys there at six, okay? By the time we get out, it'll be dark."

"I'll make an excuse on why I can't take her home and then Stan'll have to walk her." She wiggled her eyebrows.

After a few more hours in the water, it started getting dark out, which meant it was time to leave. Quinn decided against putting on her jeans and instead slipped her shirt over her head and put on her socks and shoes. Her shirt was rather large because it was her mom's so it came down a little above the bottom of her butt, still showing the underwear underneath.

Savannah didn't miss Stanley's stare directed towards Quinn's body and held a big smile on her face. Once in the car, Quinn questioned why Savannah was smiling so large.

"Cause I have a huge crush on Stanley Uris."

Quinn didn't sense the joking tone in her voice and replied with a simple, "Oh."

Savannah snorted at her friend who stared out the window like her soul had just collapsed. "I'm just kidding, he's all yours."

Quinn's head snapped to the driver and scowled. "I do not have a crush on Stanley. Did you not witness what I witnessed today? He was an ass."

"Or maybe, he was having a bad day."

"Or maybe, he's an ass."

Savannah rolled her eyes and continued driving. "Wanna go see a movie tomorrow with the boys?"

"Is-"

Savannah interrupted Quinn's question. "Is Stan gonna be there? Yes."

Quinn glared. "That's not what I was gonna ask. Is someone gonna pay for my ticket? Cause I don't have any money."

"I'll pay for you, sugar baby." Savannah winked.

"Thanks daddy." The girls erupted into laughter.

The next day, Savannah showed up at Quinn's house just before five. Quinn was still getting ready as Savannah walked into her room. She was contemplating whether or not to wear her smaller hoops or go bold and wear larger ones. "Which ones?"

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Quinn's attire. She wore a short blue sundress that had no sleeves and reached just above her mid thigh. It might have been one of the shortest dresses she owned but it definitely wasn't number one. She didn't wear any makeup, like always, but had lip gloss on her lips.

"The small ones," Savannah decided and watched Quinn put them on in the mirror. "Is all this for Stanley?"

"Will you shut up? It's hot outside and I am not making the same mistake as yesterday."

"I'm guessing that's the same for the earrings, lip gloss, and perfume?"

Quinn have her a look. "We're going to the movies with a group of people. Why not get a little dolled up?

They hung out for awhile at Quinn's house until it was time to leave. They both hopped in Savannah's car and drove into town where they would meet the boys at the movie theater. Savannah had yet to tell Quinn what movie they were going to see but she could only assume it wasn't something sappy if the boys were tagging along. Or maybe they were tagging along with the boys. Either way, they were going to see a movie and Quinn hoped it was going to be good.

The boys were already waiting for them as they pulled up and parked. Quinn noticed there was one less male from yesterday and furrowed her eyebrows as they neared the group. "Where's Stanley?"

Eddie and Savannah looked at each other knowingly while Richie responded. "He's inside away from the heat. We've been here for awhile."

"It is pretty hot out," Quinn admitted. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Since four thirty. Eddie forgot what time we needed to be here so we've just camped out waiting for you two," Richie explained.

"Well, lets go in and buy our tickets."

Savannah bought her and Quinn's ticket while the boys bought theirs. When it came to who was getting popcorn, Bill and Richie would share a bucket, so would Savannah and Eddie and Quinn and Stanley.

"Wait, why can't we share a bucket?" Quinn asked Savannah as she took the bucket of buttery popcorn in her hands. Movie theater popcorn was her favorite kind of popcorn. It was popped fresh in front of you and you could determine how much butter you wanted on it.

"Cause I'm not sitting next to you. I'm sitting next to Eddie," Savannah said as they walked into the theater where the movie was playing.

Eddie sat next to Savannah, who was adjacent to Bill and Richie. Quinn found herself sandwiches between Richie and Stanley. A duo she didn't know if she could handle without her open minded friend. Reluctantly, she handed the bucket of popcorn to Stanley. If she wanted some later, she'd grab it herself. When she usually shared, Quinn would set the popcorn on the arm rest but right now she wanted to rest her arm on it.

After what seemed liked a thousand previews of every movie other than the one they were watching, the movie started. The theater went black and the only lights were the emergency ones and the big screen in front of them. Quinn grabbed popcorn and shoved it in her mouth, almost chocking when she saw the title come up on the screen.

THE NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

Quinn watched in horror with wide eyes then turned to her left, looking over Richie and Bill and scowled at Savannah who was happily eating popcorn. Resting her back into the chair, Quinn sank down and mentally groaned.

"What is it?" Stanley whispered.

"I wouldn't have come if I knew we were watching this," Quinn responded. She would rather puke her own guts out than watch anything gruesome or filled with jump scares. Unfortunately for her, it would be a long night full of violence and scares.

Quinn wasn't expecting a sex scene to show up and the moment it did, she immediately became uncomfortable. Thankfully, it passed by quick enough and she was left with more agonizing jump scares. One scene in particular made her grab onto Stanley's hand that was resting on the arm rest.

The movie continued with little touches like that. Sometimes when Quinn stuck her hand inside the bucket of popcorn, Stan's hand would be there too and they would brush up against each other.

Then there were times when Quinn got really scared and hid herself in Stan's shoulder to stop herself from watching the screen. Stanley was more than okay with the times she got scared. He didn't want to seem too forward and comfort her back but he let her continue hiding in his shoulder.

When the movie ended, Quinn bolted out of the theater to finally get air and leaned against the wall, the rest following shortly after.

"S-Scared of a m-movie, Q-Quinn?" Bill teased.

"Not at all. I was just getting a little hot," she lied. The group walked to the front of the theater and Quinn looked out the windows with wide eyes. "Oh, it's dark."

"That a problem?"

"No," Quinn snapped a little too harsh at Richie's taunt. "I think we should head home, Sav."

"About that, mom said I needed to be home at eight and it's already seven fifty-two. Could you walk home?"

"A-Alone? Out there?" Quinn's gaze went from Savannah to the pitch black outside.

"Stan can walk you home," Eddie suggested and nudged his friend. "Right, Stan?"

Stanley's head shot up at the mention of his name. "What?"

"You'll walk Quinn home, right?"

"Uh," Stanley looked at Quinn who seemed nervous about walking home alone. His expression softened. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, well I had fun guys, but I should go so my mom doesn't rip my head off and feeds it to the dog." Savannah waved goodbye and got in her car and left. Richie, Eddie, and Bill all left together, leaving Stanley and Quinn alone.

"So, did you like the movie?" Stan asked.

"Hell no."

Stanley laughed and Quinn felt her heart beat a little faster when he did. "I take it your not much of a horror fan?"

"I avoid them like the plague." Quinn crossed her arms and continued looking outside, almost as if she was looking for any supernatural creature or serial killer hidden behind street lamps or alleyways.

"Where do you live?"

"The culdesac off Baker Street," Quinn responded. When they started to walk, she noticed her shoe was untied and told him to wait as she bent down and tied it. "Okay, we can-" Quinn gasped and froze when she felt a hand come in contact with her bottom.

Stanley's eyes widened and his head shot to the culprit. It was some teen who didn't go to their school. Luckily, he was Stan's height so when the Jew grabbed hold of the boy's collar and lift him up, he didn't have to move far. While up in the air, Stanley pinched him in the face and threw him on the ground. Some of the people in the same area witnessed it happen and also saw that when the manager came out, Stan grabbed Quinn's hand and ran outside. They didn't stop running until the theater was out of sight.

Quinn was in shock and confusion by what had just happened and who she had froze instead of beat the boy to a pulp then and there. Maybe when you've defended other girls your whole life, it comes as a shock when it actually happens to you. Quinn was extremely lucky to have had Stanley there beside her in her vulnerable moment and snuck a glance in his direction.

His forehead glistened under the lamp's light because of the sweat from running and he stuck his hands into his pant pockets. He looked down and tried to regain his breath. They walked in silence for a few paces until Quinn finally spoke up. "Thank you."

Stanley looked over at her. He wasn't going to push the subject on her so he let her speak first before asking any further questions. "It was nothing. Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded and frowned. "I should've chopped his dick off and made him eat it right there." Stanley raised and eyebrow and Quinn huffed. "All I've done my life is try to protect other girls from men like that but the second it happens to me I freeze? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic. It's just different when it comes to protecting yourself. Instead of an offense attack, it's defense. Two different tactics."

"Then I guess I need more practice on defensive strategies."

They walked through the dark with only the light of the street lamps over their heads. From her left, Quinn heard a bush shake quickly and pounced onto Stanley's side, grabbing onto his arm for dear life. He looked down at her and the second she realized there was no danger, she looked at him. It was only for a second before she jumped back to where she was beside him earlier.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I-It's fine." He looked down at her and bit his lip. "If you weren't just sexually assaulted, I'd ask to kiss you."

Anger rose in Quinn's body until his full sentence registered in her mind and her face softened. "Y-You would?"

"Yeah. You're pretty and confident and when you jump into me it makes me feel more like a man."

Quinn rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I wouldn't mind if you asked."

"Really?" Quinn nodded. "So, can I kiss you?" Quinn nodded again and Stanley bent down and placed his lips on top of hers. Even with the limited knowledge about these encounters didn't stop her from kissing back. Her hands made their way up his neck and while one stayed there, the other trailed up into his hair and twirled it around her finger. Stanley placed his hands on her sides and pulled her in closer so that their hips were touching. He was bold enough to run his tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entrance and she was fine with it, letting him in.

Their little kiss had turned into a make-out session in the middle of the sidewalk until a sound from behind Quinn made her break away and dart her head towards it. It was just a bird flying out from the bush but that didn't stop her heart from pounding fifty miles an hour. Stanley's puffy lips turned up into a smile as he grabbed hold of her hand, reassuring her that it was alright.

"Sorry," Quinn apologized and under his gaze, blushed. He was the only one that had ever made her blush and she didn't know how to act.

"It's fine. Come on, we're almost there." They continued to walk, neither one talking about their shared moment just a few steps ago and fell into a silence before Stanley broke it. "You know, as a man, I don't claim him as part of my gender."

Quinn chuckled. "'As a man,' huh?"

Stanley scoffed in shock. "I am eighteen. Legally I am a man. And I look like one, too." He flexed his muscles.

Quinn let her eyes sweep over his body. "Whatever you say, pretty boy."

"Pretty man," Stan corrected with a smile and Quinn just rolled her eyes.

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