#ben hanscom x reader

[shelbybyr]

When you run out of fics to read

[eternal-sunshine-222]

IT MASTERLIST

Hello! My name is Kandi and I am an aspiring author. In this masterlist you can find all my works for this series linked under their respective characters. I write for the characters listed but I will make exceptions if requested. Thank you and happy reading!

BILL DENBROUGH

-coming soon!

RICHIE TOZIER

-coming soon!

EDDIE KASPBRAK

-coming soon!

STANLEY URIS

-coming soon!

MIKE HANLON

-coming soon!

BEN HANSCOM

-coming soon!

BEVERLY MARSH

-coming soon!

HENRY BOWERS

-coming soon!

PATRICK HOCKSTETTER

-Infatuated (Patrick x Fem!Reader) (part 1?)

REGINALD "BELCH" HUGGINS

-coming soon!

VICTOR CRISS

-coming soon!

This masterlist along with my others will be updated any time a new fic is dropped or in the process of being worked on.

[tryingtofindava]

˗ˏˋ𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛Back to Main Masterlist

“So I guess I’ll stay and wait, you don’t even know I’m waiting.”

#Bill Denbrough

#Stanley Uris.

#Mike Hanlon

#Ben Hanscom

#Beverly Marsh

#Richie Tozier

#Eddie Kasprak

‧₊˚ MAIN ೃ⁀➷

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[edgessunflower]

Ben Hanscom Masterlist

In progress

[leighbaye]

— BEN’S BUNKER

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , losers club 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2300

summary. spending time the your bestest friends in the world, in ben’s surprise hideout for the losers club. a stronger bond flourishing inside!

labels. feminine reader, happy go lucky girl, shy cute girly girl reader, no definite description of reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is closer to richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. hey everyone! i was rewatching it 2019 and me being the self indulgent person i am, i started fantasizing about us (readers) being with the losers! lots of love.

summer days in derry had a special kind of magic, one that was even stronger when you spent them with the losers club. today, ben had promised a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. the air was thick with excitement as you all made your way through the woods, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

❝ are we there yet? ❞ richie’s voice rang out, filled with mock impatience. you were walking beside him, as usual, and his playful energy was contagious. you couldn’t help but smile.

❝ yeah, ben, how much further? ❞ eddie added, swatting away a mosquito with a grimace. you could tell eddie was getting antsy, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his nerves. richie noticed and nudged you with his elbow, his grin wide.

❝ you know, eds, (y/n) here could probably carry you if you get too tired, ❞ richie teased, earning a light smack on the arm from eddie.

❝ shut up, richie, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. you laughed softly, loving the way they always managed to make you feel at ease, even when they were bickering.

finally, ben stopped in front of a large thicket, and your curiosity peaked. he pushed aside some branches, revealing a hidden entrance. ❝ here it is, ❞ your eyes widened as you stepped through the opening. inside was a large, cozy space, bigger than you’d expected. there were shelves full of books, soft blankets, and a huge hammock strung up in one corner, large enough for several people. the place felt like a secret clubhouse, one that was just for you and your friends.

❝ ben, this is amazing! ❞ you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe. you turned to look at him, and he blushed slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

❝ yeah, ben, this is awesome, ❞ mike added, already exploring the different corners of the hideout. ❝ you really outdid yourself. ❞

❝ i thought it would be nice to have a place just for us, ❞ ben said, his voice warm with affection. ❝ a place where we can hang out and just be ourselves. ❞

richie immediately made a beeline for the hammock, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ❝ dibs on the hammock! ❞ he shouted, flopping down onto it with a dramatic sigh of contentment. you laughed and followed him over, sitting down on the edge of the hammock.

❝ you’re such an ass, ❞ eddie grumbled, but he couldn’t resist joining you both. he climbed onto the hammock, settling in beside you with a huff. you found yourself sandwiched between richie and eddie, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock as they playfully jostled each other.

❝ careful, you’re gonna tip us over, ❞ you warned, your voice filled with laughter. richie just grinned at you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders.

❝ don’t worry, (y/n), i’ve got you, ❞ he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. on your other side, eddie was muttering under his breath about how richie was being annoying, but you could tell he was just as happy to be there.

as you lay there, the three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. richie and eddie kept up their usual banter, tossing playful insults back and forth while you relaxed between them. their voices became a soothing background noise, and you found your eyelids growing heavy as the hammock rocked gently beneath you.

❝ hey, richie, do you ever shut up? ❞ eddie grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. he was more focused on making sure you were comfortable, adjusting a blanket around you with a careful hand.

❝ only when i’m asleep, eds, ❞ richie shot back, his grin widening as he caught your eye. ❝ and even then, i’m sure i’m the most entertaining sleeper around. ❞

❝ if you say so, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked at you. ❝ (y/n), how do you put up with him? ❞ with an exaggerated sigh.

you just smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship surrounding you like a protective shield. ❝ i guess i’m just lucky, ❞ you replied softly, your voice filled with contentment.

eventually, the steady rhythm of their voices and the gentle sway of the hammock lulled you into a peaceful nap. richie’s arm was still draped over your shoulders, and eddie’s presence beside you was a comforting anchor. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely safe, knowing that your best friends were right there with you.

when you woke up, the sun had shifted, casting a warm, golden light through the small windows of the hideout. you blinked sleepily, realizing that richie and eddie had fallen asleep too, their heads resting against yours. the hammock was still gently swaying, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the quiet peace of the moment.

after a while, you carefully extricated yourself from the hammock, trying not to wake richie and eddie. they both stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, so you quietly tiptoed away, leaving them to their nap. as you looked around the hideout, you noticed bill, stan, and mike sitting together on a pile of blankets, engrossed in their books.

❝ h-hey, (y/n), want to j-j-join us? ❞ bill asked, glancing up from his book with a welcoming smile. you nodded, making your way over to them. you sat down beside stan, who gave you a small, shy smile as he handed you one of the books from the shelf.

❝ thank you, stan, ❞ you said softly, returning his smile. he nodded, his eyes already back on his book.

you opened the book and quickly became absorbed in the story, losing yourself in the world of words. the four of you read in companionable silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft murmur as one of you reacted to something in the story.

after a while, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. looking up, you saw beverly smiling down at you. ❝ hey, (y/n), can i steal you for a bit? ❞ she asked, her voice warm.

❝ okay, ❞ you replied, closing your book and setting it aside. you stood up and followed bev over to where ben was working on some project with a hammer and nails.

❝ we could use some extra hands, ❞ bev said, handing you a hammer. ❝ ben’s been teaching me how to build stuff, and i thought you might want to join in. ❞

you smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for beverly’s thoughtfulness. ❝ i’d love to help, ❞ you said, taking the hammer and kneeling down beside ben.

❝ thanks, (y/n), ❞ ben said, giving you a grateful smile. ❝ we’re just reinforcing some of the shelves and adding a few more. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. ❞

❝ definitely, ❞ you agreed, already feeling a sense of accomplishment as you began hammering nails into place. as you worked, bev chatted with you about all sorts of things—clothes, movies, and boys. it was nice to have some girl time, and you found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn’t before.

❝ you know, (y/n), ❞ bev said, her voice turning a bit more serious, ❝ i’m really glad you’re part of the losers club. you bring something special to the group, and i just want you to know that you’re really important to all of us. ❞

you felt your cheeks flush with warmth at her words, and you looked down at the hammer in your hands, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ❝ thanks, beverly, you said softly. ❝ that means a lot. ❞

she smiled at you, her eyes filled with kindness. ❝ it’s true. don’t ever doubt it, okay? ❞

you nodded, feeling a swell of affection for your friend. as the two of you continued working, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bond you shared with the losers club. they were more than just friends—they were family, and you knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs.

after finishing up with the shelves, you and bev stepped back to admire your work. ❝ not bad, ❞ ben said, clearly pleased with the results. ❝ this place is really coming together. ❞

❝ it really is, ❞ you agreed, feeling a sense of pride in what you’d accomplished. ❝ i’m glad i could help. ❞

❝ you did great, ❞ bev said, giving you a friendly nudge. ❝ now, how about we take a break? i think we’ve earned it. ❞

you nodded, feeling a bit tired but happy. as you made your way back to the main area of the hideout, you noticed that richie and eddie had finally woken up and were now bickering playfully as usual.

❝ hey, sleepyheads, ❞ you called out, giggling as you approached them. ❝ have a nice nap? ❞

❝ the best, ❞ richie replied with a wink, stretching his arms above his head. ❝ but we missed you, (y/n). it’s not the same without our favorite girl around. ❞

❝ yeah, we woke up and you were gone, ❞ eddie added, his voice mock-petulant. ❝ don’t do that again. ❞

you laughed, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a cozy blanket. ❝ don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. ❞

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. by the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the hideout, you felt completely at peace.

as you all gathered together in the hideout, huddled close on the blankets and bean bags, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. the losers club wasn’t just a group of friends—they were your home, your family, your safe haven in a world that could be so full of darkness.

and as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d always stick by their side as much as they stuck to yours.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns out to be longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

1984 Derry, Maine

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

masterpost☁️

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[nightfang22]

Patrick Hockstetter Brainrot

A/N:I can't get the thought of Patrick out of my head at the moment so I'm leaving some of my brain rot here as a paper trail for when I eventually become delirious from the amount of shit I think about this character.

-Let's get two things straight and one thing gay:Patrick struggles with feeling anything in general so when he feels sexual desire?You bet your ass he's clinging to it for dear life.

-Patrick Hockstetter is not some kind, gentle soul so do not expect him to act as such if you engage in any kind of activity with him.Especially if it's sexual in nature.

-Patrick likes to play rough and I do mean rough.

-He obviously has some pyromaniac tendencies so it's only natural to expect that to transfer over into the bedroom.

-Watching your skin blister under the flame of his lighter gets him rock solid in his jeans.

-He loves watching you squirm away from him in fear.And it's not the safe, playful kind of enjoyment either.He gets off on seeing genuine fear in your eyes and intentionally hurting you.

-A thing to remember about Patrick is that he's going to take what he wants from you either way so willing or unwilling, you're still going to belong to him.Mind,body,and soul.

-I think Patrick would also be a knife play kind of guy but you'll have to be good at holding your own if you don't want him to cause too much damage.

-Bondage,too.The less chance of you getting away, the better.

-Patrick thinks the post orgasm glow is more vivd when he sees the rope burns on your wrists and ankles after he unties you.

-Bonus points if you squirm so hard the marks peek from over the restraints.

-But with all that being said?

-He loves a willing participant.

-While Patrick is more than happy to stick his dick in you while you're just dissociating and taking it silently,he'd much prefer if you were actively interested in the activity.

-Now that doesn't mean he's going to give you any control.

-No,ma'am.

-But seeing your face contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure?He didn't know such a beautiful image could exist.

-Even more bonus points if you just wanna suck him off.

-He loves watching your throat swell with the size of his cock as you give small, vibrating moans while you deep throat him.

-The image of your pretty eyes filled with tears makes his stomach tighten at the pit of an orgasm.

-He might just blow his load down your throat right then.

-A total dom.

-Dirty talker too.He loves growling filthy shit in your ear while he fucks you from behind.

He's got your hair in a tight grip as his hips crash against yours with bruising force, your screams completely muffled as he leans over while he fucks you like he wants to break you.And he does.

"You're takin' me like such a good girl.Wish you could see how fuckin' hot your cunt looks clenching around my cock like that.Fuuuuck."

He hears you whimper and whine as tears stream down your cheeks and you can feel his dark laughter before you hear it.

"Aw,look at you cryin' out for my cock.Fuckin' pathetic."

His thrusts punctuated his words.

"So.Fuckin'.Needy."

[misswqrld]

Dating Stanley Uris (Head-cannons)

-When you guys started dating he was so nervous!

-He protest against you telling his and your friends, like he would stand outside your house with signs

-Such a sweetheart, will by you gifts whenever

-If you are ever sad Stan will show up at your house with a tub of ice cream and two spoons

-Of course he will cry with you

-Richie will always bully him

-"I could so pull Y/n if I wanted to."

-"Yeah, no"

-You kiss in front of the Losers?

-The losers will pretend to wash their eyes out with soap and vomit

-He absolutely loves calling you darling, honey, little miss sassy, and pumpkin

-You on the other hand betch, sweet cheeks, little jew, and babe

-You always go one dates at parks

-You enjoy the silence and he likes the birds

-He tries his hardest to draw you and they turn out beautiful

-He says they never capture your beauty but you think there to pretty

-If you get hurt Stan will be the first by your side

-He is the most protective thing ever

-Someone hits you to hard with a dodgeball?

-He will smack them right back until they bleed

-He will send glares their way until you tell him to stop

-He is a complete golden retriever boyfriend

-Stan dies when you wear light blue

-Doesn't matter what it is as long as its blue

-Want to annoy him?

-Pineapple on pizza

-Insult his favorite games

-Call him a stupid jew

-You think bird watching is his favorite?

-You watching is

-Not in a creepy way but sometimes he gets lost in your beauty

-The bowers gang will never be able to touch you

[damicxyy]

The losers being losers..

~~~~~

Eddie: richie your a mother fucker

Richie : you know eddie being a mother fucker is a good thing since-

Eddie : okay yeah no just shut up

~~~~~

Bill and bev: *cassually making out*

Ben: damn.. * heart broken , hes now emo 😭����👿👾🌛🖤🩶🦴💀🌑*

Mike : is okay lil bro you'll get her soon

~~~~~

Stan: *reading a book*

Richie : daddy issues

Stan : trash mouth

Richie: as long as i dont have daddy issues i will be happy

Stan : go fuck your self richie

Richie: already did

Stan: 😨

~~~~~~

Bill : bev...are you gay?

Bev : i dont know? Why?

Bill : you've been looking at that girls ass for a while now...

Bev : bill...you did that too

~~~~~

Mike: can't believe richie has a girlfriend

Stan: i know right Like how can he pull someone with that mouth of his

Richie : ACTUALLY ITS NOT A GIRL

mike: ITS A DUDE‼️

richie : no...

Stan : ITS A ALIEN

richie : what no...

Mike : then..that means...

Richie: yeah no i dont have no one...

Stan : *laughing to death*

[lavenderstarsx]

The Drawing (Bill Denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: One day when you were in the library a drawing falls out of a book you were reading- and the drawing eerily looks exactly like you.

Word Count: 1.5k

——————-

You made your way slowly to The Derry Library. The fall weather was now in full effect and you couldn’t help the feeling of the slight chill you felt while you walked. You were looking for more interesting books at the library- currently you were reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ which you knew was a classic- but it was required reading so by that criteria it made it fairly boring. You opened up the door to the brick building and stepped inside. Almost no one was there. It was in fact a weekend so not a lot of people liked to spend their two free days in a dusty old building that probably had a rat infestation. You did see someone you recognized there. The boy you saw was Ben Hanscom. He had his head in a book. You barely knew Ben- the only reason why you even recognized him was because he sat with Bill Denbrough at lunch. Ben had just joined the little friend group that called themselves ‘The Losers Club.’ Bill was in many of your classes. You pretended not to notice him but- man was it hard to. Bill took up most of your thoughts. You memorized the way he laughed- even though it was rare and almost only came out when the Tozier boy whispered an inappropriate joke into his ear during a lesson. Your friends didn’t approve of Bill. They usually called him a ‘freak’ or ‘weirdo.’ You mostly ignored them because in your eyes, Bill was perfect. He was kind, caring, and respectful. Something that half the school wasn’t. Then you snapped back out of your thoughts. You headed towards the fantasy section. You read a lot of fantasy books now ever since you rewatched The Princess Bride a couple weeks ago. You looked through a ton of books but none of them seemed good enough for you. Then you saw one- it looked rather basic. The book had a huge red dragon on the front with a knight giving a cheesy smile next to it. You quickly read the blurb on the back before slightly opening it. A medium sized piece of paper comes gracefully falling from the book. You quickly look around before picking the paper up. You froze. The drawing looked exactly like you. It had your signature y/h/c colored hair. It was like looking into a mirror. The drawing wasn’t signed but it did look weirdly familiar.

“Do you need any help, dear?” An older librarian woman asks you. You practically jump out of your skin when she says this.

“No ma’m i’m fine.” You say gingerly. You try to hide your blush as you find a table to start reading on. You picked the table behind Ben. You thought it would have been too awkward or weird to sit right next to the boy. You could barely focus on your book, you kept finding yourself staring at the drawing of you. You were terrified but also mesmerized at the same time. You decided to leave the library not long after. You held the drawing and your book close to your chest. On your way out of the library you gave Ben a small smile before opening the door back into the chilly air. You walked back home, and when you got to your room you quickly put your new book down and flopped onto your mattress. You stared at the drawing for a while. The detail was so intricate that it got your exact eye color down too.

Finally it was the end of the day, you were now in your pajamas and you were now ~finally~ reading the book you had gotten from the library. You found yourself enjoying the book a lot more. You slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you had to get ready for school. You chose a pair of jeans and a navy blue long sleeved shirt. You quickly brush your hair before rushing out the door. You made sure to grab the new book that you had just gotten and stuff it into your backpack. The bike ride to school was nice. You thankfully didn’t run into anyone from The Bowers Gang and you made it easily to school. The drawing was still in the back of your mind.

“Hey y/n!” You hear your friend, f/n shout to you. You quickly lock up your bike and rush towards them. You smile at them. They start talking about their weekend- which was not truly THAT interesting but you still smile and nod your head. You were more of a listener type. You and your friend walked to class together. But that’s when you saw him. Bill was walking to the same class as you. He was walking with Stanley Uris. Bill then had decided to hold open the door for you and f/n. You tried to hide your blush as you say,

“Thanks Bill”

“No pro-b-le-m y/n.” Bill then gave you a smile which made your heart melt to the core. You and f/n quickly went to your seats. You sat exactly behind Bill. The teacher started teaching the class but it was terribly hard to focus. Bill Denbrough, had given YOU a smile. You couldn’t help but to smile yourself. Bill also didn’t seem to be focusing. He seemed to be writing something in his notebook instead, you narrow your eyes to see if you could read anything of it. You didn’t want to seem stalker-ish so you pretended to be looking at the chalk board. But that’s when you see what Bill was doing- he wasn’t writing he was drawing. Bill wasn’t doing much to hide what he was doing. He seemed to be drawing a girl. Suddenly you feel Bill’s eyes shift. You and him caught eachother’s eyes. Shit. Bill then turns a bright shade of red and hides the notebook away from you.

That was odd.

The class went by quickly. In your head you tried to connect the dots. And that’s when you realize- what if Bill was the one to draw that picture of you? He had to- the style of drawing looked exactly like the picture of you did. Why would Bill draw you?

Throughout the day, you found yourself distracted. The thought of Bill and his drawings lingered as you walked to your next class. You kept replaying the events of the morning in your mind. Bill’s drawing, and the drawing from the library looked all too familiar. It was too much of a coincidence. Right?

Finally it came time for lunch. You spotted Bill with his friends. They were all gathered together. You feel a pang of jealousy as you sit with at your own lunch table. You glanced at Bill. He seemed distracted in thought. You decided to gather your courage and decided to walk towards The Losers’ table. When you reached the table everyone went silent. They all gave you a weird look. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Hey uh- Bill can I talk to you- for just a quick second?” You say.

Bill gave you a surprised look before nodding a yes. You and Bill find a quiet place on the stairwell that led to the cafeteria. You tried to ignore the curious stares of all of Bill's friends.

“Wh-at is i-t y/n?” Bill asked.

You take a deep breathe before pulling the drawing from your backpack.

“I- i found this in a book at the library yesterday,” You held out the drawing to Bill. “Did you uh- well draw it? I saw you drawing in class today and it looks alike to this one.” Bill’s eyes widened as he studied the drawing.

“Ye-a-h I did.” Bill admitted- he did look very embarrassed. You felt weird. You felt every emotion possible and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“But why did you draw me?” You said the sentence quickly. Bill blushed.

"Be-because I… I like you," Bill replied, looking down. He was clearly embarrassed.

You froze as blood rushed to your cheeks. "You do?" you asked.

"Y-yes. And I, uh, have for a wh-while," Bill stuttered.

"I like you too, Bill," you revealed. You felt as though you were going to pass out, you were so happy.

Bills eyes widened again. He looked down meeting your gaze.

“Re-ally?” Bill questioned. A very small, shy smile formed on his lips.

You smiled, unable to control the large grin on your face.“Yeah, really.”

For a moment both of you stood there like time itself had stopped. Bill took a tiny step forward.

“So- u-h wh-at now?” Bill asked sheepishly.

You let out a small laugh trying to ease the tension,

“Do you want to go to the movies with me this weekend?” You replied.

Bill’s smile grew,

“I w-ould li-ke that.”

[letitrott]

Bowers Gang x Goth reader Part 3 Choose your own story ~ Live for Death ~

PLEASE READ!!! : For this choose your own story try to KEEP TO the links attached to that post in order for your story to make sense. This is boggling my brain ;( I WILL LEAVE NOTES OF ROUTES! There will be still general hangouts and cross overs with characters from both losers and bowers gang.

Example: Maths class Part 1 - Part 3 VIC Rout "title" or History Class Part 1 - Part 3 Henry + Pat rout "title" I hope this makes sense, just follow the links and make sure to have fun. Thank you for reading xxx

PART 1 Intro (CLICK ME)

PART 2 Meeting them (CLICK ME) Mother link all story options

PART 3 Henry and Patrick route

A. (STAND YOUR GROUND) - Click me

Option A Warnings: Violence, Blood, Trauma response, Copping mechanism, Panic attack, Stress, Emotion overload, ANGST

B. (FLEE) - Click me

Option B Warnings: Slight Angst, inappropriate tough, triggering, trauma response, stress inducing, slightly sadistic

PART 3 Victor Route

A. (FOLLOW HIM) - Click me

Option A Warning: Lemon, graphic, Drug consumption, Sexy time, Swearing. UNDER 18 please DO NOT READ

B. (LEAVE BY YOURSELF) - Click me

Option B Warning: Slurs, some unwanted touching

PART 3 Belch Route

A. (LUNCH WITH BELCH) - Click me

Option A Warnings: Unwanted touching and rough treatment

B. (LEAVE ON YOUR OWN) - Click me

Option B Warnings: Bullying/Being Bullied

PART 3 Henry/Bowers gang route

A. (TALK WITH BEV) - Click me

Option A Warnings: Implies sexual abuse, Trauma, Smoking, Coping mechanisms, Slightly Violent, anger problems, shitting on religion (I'm sorry!! please don't come for me)

B. (LEAVE BY YOURSELF) - Click me

Option B Warnings: Mental health decline, slight loneliness, depression and social anxiety themes.

PART 4 COMING SOON!!! Hope you all are having fun. Do highly encourage reading all the story pathways. Might include a diagram soon lol.

[lady-targaryens-world]

Chapter 1: Return to Derry

English is not my first Language!

Pairing: Patrick Hockstetter

CHAPTERS: 1/?

UPDATES: Slow (very slow)

Fandom: IT

Please like, comment and share 🫶

*******************************************

The bus slowed down as Y/n looked through the window at the familiar streets of Derry. A touch of nostalgia surrounded her as the autumn wind brushed through her hair. The town she hadn't seen for years was now in front of her.

*"Back in Derry."* Y/n sighed, her thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves outside.

As the bus stopped at the edge of town, a mix of excitement and uncertainty washed over her. Her mother had taken her away after her parents' separation. But now she was returning to her father and beloved sister, Beverly.

Stepping off the bus, her gaze fell on the house that once was her home. Beverly stood on the sidewalk, a radiant smile on her face.

*"Y/n! You're finally back!"* Beverly embraced her sister tightly.

*"I've missed you so much, Beverly."* Y/n reciprocated the hug, but her eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

They entered the house together. Beverly's joy was palpable, but the atmosphere inside was tense. Their father sat in the kitchen, engrossed in the newspaper. Y/n felt a pang in her chest as she noticed his cold gaze.

*"Hello, Dad."* Y/n attempted a friendly greeting, but his silence spoke volumes.

Sensing the tension, Beverly tried to lighten the mood. *"Isn't it great that Y/n is back?"* she said with an encouraging smile.

While Beverly warmly welcomed her sister's return, Y/n‘s resentment toward her father hung heavy in the air.

Their father didn't even lift his gaze from the newspaper. The chill in his silence was like an icy shadow over the room.

*"Well, we'll see."* Y/n tried to conceal her uncertainty, but the silence seemed louder than any conversation.

Beverly led her sister to her old room, now a mix of memories and forgotten items. The creaking of the door and the sight of the familiar space brought Y/n back in thought.

*"You can settle in here. It's still the way you left it."* Beverly tried to dispel the melancholy in the air.

*"Thank you, Beverly. You're still the best."* Y/n forced a smile, but the pain of her absence permeated the room.

The next hour passed in an uncomfortable silence as they tried to bridge the past.

*"I'm going into town to run some errands."* Beverly eventually broke the silence. *"We can talk later."*

After Beverly left, Y/n looked at her father, who was still engrossed in his newspaper. The room seemed to shrink as the unspoken conflict between father and daughter cast heavy shadows.

*"Why did you come back?"* her father suddenly said, without lifting his gaze.

*“Mother said it was time.“ * she felt her voice tremble.“*

*"It wasn't my decision to let you go. It was hers."* His words were icy, and her heart sank.

*"You've never treated Mother, me, and Beverly well. That's why Mother left you."* her voice cut through the tension in the room as she accused her father.

He glared at her angrily, but before he could respond, the door opened, and Beverly entered, holding a bag from shopping. She seemed To feel unwell and tried to go to her room.

*"Whatcha got there?“* Her father went to Beverly, asking about the contents of the bag.

*"Just some things."* Beverly replied briefly.

*"Like what?"* he persisted. He took the bag from her, looked inside, and noticed the tampons she had purchased. He glanced back with a subtle grin, gently touching her cheek. Y/n observed the strange and inappropriate gesture as Beverly tensed up and flinched slightly. He then smelled her hair, took hold of her ponytail, and uttered, *"Tell me you're still my little girl."* Beverly's response was a resigned *"Yes, Daddy."* With that answer, he appeared satisfied and released her.

Beverly reacted by quickly retreating to her room. Her sister, who had witnessed the entire bizarre scene, found the interaction between father and daughter peculiar.

He gave Y/n a final glance and returned to his previous activity. She understood that the previous discussion they had was closed for him.

After Beverly disappeared into her Room, Y/n went to her room with mixed feelings. The argument and the bizarre encounter between her father and Beverly had turned the first day of her return into an unexpected drama.

The house, once a safe haven, now seemed permeated with unspoken words and hurt feelings. The first day of her return held more conflicts than she had expected, indicating that the challenges in Derry had only just begun.

[walmarttrashbag]

Yandere Losers Club Headcanons

So many Losers x Y/n

Requested by: Anonymous!

I need a longer break please...

Bill Denbrough:

Stuttering mess around you. Would kill Pennywise X10 for you... Even other people just for you, too....

Beverly Marsh:

Lesbian for you. She lost her feelings for Bill a long time ago when she saw you. Will burn people with her cigarettes for you.

Ben Hanscom:

Writes lots of poems for you. Will try to protect you around Henry and his goons. Things will get bloody.

Richie Tozier:

Will always make you laugh. Beats people up with his trusty bat. Lets you try his glasses.

Stanley Uris:

Is scared with you. Tries to comfort you. Let's you play with his ramen hair. Holds you so tight.

Mike Hanlon:

You already know. This man will murder for you. People and sheep are much different. Will show you so much love aftward.

[drunkenlyamess]

⊹₊⟡⋆ Richie Tozier multi ff

⊹₊⟡⋆ Richie Rozier x m!oc

⊹₊⟡⋆ CW- Drinking, cussing, mentions of body dysmorphia, mloc is low-key a horrible person, enemies to lovers, homophobia, bullying, smoking, questioning of sexuality, misogyny, blood, slurs.

⊹₊⟡⋆ AN- Scotty thinks he’s so mysterious, and cool. I also love writing for a dead fandom! It also won’t let me link the thing to the first chapter so like idk

01 ← → 03

02

SCOTTY moved through the crowded hallways, dodging and weaving around groups of students who were gathered in huddled clusters, talking in loud, animated voices. The air felt thick with the cloying mix of cheap perfume, body odor, and the faint, acrid undertone of sweat. The heat from the summer sun outside seeped through the cracked windows, making everything feel heavier, as though the stench was being trapped in the tight, overheated space. Every step he took felt like he was moving through a swamp, the air oppressive and suffocating.

His last class of the day had been a blur—a haze of half-hearted chatter and barely absorbed notes. Most people were too caught up in the talk about the missing kids. It was all anyone was talking about. Scotty didn’t care much for the rumors; they all sounded the same. But it seemed like everyone else in the school had their own theory about what had happened. Maybe that’s why they all passed notes or whispering in corners, desperate for something to believe.

As he moved through the throng of bodies, his eyes fell on a familiar sight—his sister, walking with her little group of friends. They were clustered together in their own world, talking about some Jewish thing. But it was the group around her that caught his attention. Eddie Kaspbrak was there, the one kid who always looked like he was on edge—constantly wiping his hands with hand sanitizer, checking everything around him like it was a ticking time bomb. Scotty had never been able to understand Eddie, always a germaphobe, always frantic about cleanliness. He remembered once watching Eddie go into a full-on rant when Scotty had sneezed into his hand instead of into his elbow, the poor kid turning pale and going off about how germs would spread and how disgusting it was. Scotty couldn’t help but find the whole thing odd, almost pathetic.

Then there was Bill Denbrough, the kid who always seemed a little sadder than the rest. Bill had that heavy air of someone who had lost too much. His brother had gone missing, and it had left a mark on him. Bill’s words were always slow and deliberate, the stutter that dragged his speech out like a weight he could never fully shake off. Scotty didn’t know Bill too well, but he felt a faint pit of pity for him, not because of the stutter but because of the brother who was probably dead somewhere—lost to whatever twisted fate had taken him. But beyond that, Scotty never really thought much about Bill. He was just another kid in the hallway, a face in the crowd.

And then his gaze landed on Richie Tozier.

The sight of him made Scotty’s stomach turn, a dull knot of unease twisting in his gut. Richie was standing at the edge of the group, that joking, overconfident grin on his face. He was loud, he was obnoxious, and worst of all, he flirted with Scotty’s sister. He couldn’t stand the way Richie’s voice got all teasing when he talked to her, joking about his sister in dirty ways. The kid was a dirty, loudmouth joke, and Scotty hated that he even had to be in the same room as him.

Scotty felt the faintest breeze stir the air as someone passed too close, brushing against him. He barely turned his head, but enough to catch a glimpse of Stanley, another one of Jen’s friends. The kid always seemed to float around the edges of the group, a silent observer, always there but never really noticed. All Scotty really knew about Stanley was that he was Jewish—something he never really thought much about, he didn’t really think about religion. He let out a scoff, the sound escaping his lips involuntarily, an expression of disgust that slipped out without thought.

Stanley slid seamlessly into the group, his presence registering with Jen and her friends as they began to question about whatever they talked about. They continued to walk slowly, absorbed in their own chatter, like the world was moving at a pace that suited them. Scotty felt an instant irritation flare inside him. He couldn’t stand the way they just meandered through the hallways, dragging their feet, acting like there was nowhere to be, nothing to do. The constant hum of their voices made his skin itch.

With an exasperated huff, Scotty pushed forward, forcing his way through the group, his shoulder connecting roughly with Jen’s. He didn’t care how hard he shoved him—Jen barely flinched as she was nudged his eyes were locked on his sister, Jen.

“Walk faster you asswipe.” he snapped, his voice sharp and full of irritation. The words were meant for Jen, but they were aimed at everyone in the group. The sound of his voice cut through the noise for just a second. Jen looked up, her brow furrowing as she glanced at him, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. She opened her mouth, probably to tell him to fuck off, but Scotty didn’t wait around to listen.

He kept walking, not slowing down, heading toward the stairs. The group behind him seemed to shift around, but Scotty didn’t care. He shoved through more bodies as he descended, each step down the stairs feeling like an escape, a release from the pressure that was slowly building inside him. The sound of shoes against the tiled floor echoed in the hallway, and Scotty’s movements grew more aggressive, pushing through people with little care for their discomfort.

As he neared the bottom of the stairs, the unmistakable sound of Richie’s voice reached him from behind. The comment was loud, deliberately so, and Scotty could almost picture Richie smirking to himself as he said it.

“What stick is up his ass?” Richie’s voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm, and Scotty felt his jaw clench involuntarily.

His fingers curled into fists, the urge to turn around and confront Richie almost overwhelming. But Scotty didn’t. He just kept walking, the muscles in his jaw tightening even more. He wasn’t going to give Richie the satisfaction of knowing that he heard his snotty comment. He just carried on, ignoring the murmurs behind him, the lingering presence of everyone else in the hallway.

Scotty finally reached the school doors, the familiar sight of the heavy glass panels looming in front of him. With a firm push, he swung them open, feeling the weight of the door resist for a moment before giving way. As soon as he stepped outside, the summer air hit him like a wall. The warm breeze tugged at his clothes and pressed against his face, the sunlight so intense it made his nose wrinkle instinctively. He squinted against the brightness, the sun’s rays strong enough to sting the back of his eyes. It was that kind of hot, sticky summer afternoon, the kind where you could almost feel the heat radiating off the pavement.

His eyes scanned the crowd of students, the usual mix of kids walking in groups or heading to their bikes. It only took a few seconds for his gaze to land on them, standing together in the same spot they always did, right by the school’s main entrance. group was clustered tightly, chatting and laughing like they always did after school.

Without missing a beat, his feet started moving toward them, a familiar rhythm carrying him across the blacktop. His sneakers scuffed against the ground, the sound of his quick pace blending with the noise of the other kids around him.

As he got closer, his hand reached out, finding Jet’s shoulder in an effortless grab. With a practiced swing, he pulled himself into the tight-knit circle of friends, his body sliding into place with ease.

“Yo,” Scotty said, his voice casual as he slid into the group. It was his standard greeting, one that made it clear he was going to act like nothing had happened that morning. No apologies, no explanations. He wasn’t one to let anything bother him for long, especially not if it meant admitting he was wrong.

David, who had been silently watching the scene unfold in front of the school, spoke up next, his voice low as he pointed toward a woman standing by a row of police cars. “Betty Ripsom’s mom is here,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and sympathy. The woman stood there rigidly, her eyes scanning the steady stream of students filing out of the school, her face a mask of worry and frustration.

Scotty glanced over at her, rolling his eyes. “She knows she ain’t gonna see Betty come outta here,” he said with a scoff, letting go of Jet’s shoulder and taking a step back. “She’s probably dead somewhere.” His tone bland as if he oblivious, but it was clear he was speaking from pure assumption.

“You don’t know that,” Tina snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. Her brows furrowed deeply, creating a crease in her forehead as she glared at the others. The displeasure was clear on her face—her lips pressed into a tight line, and her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

Jet, who had been watching the back-and-forth with quiet amusement, finally spoke up. “Come on, you know he’s probably right, Tina,” he said, his voice casual, almost too easy. He shot her a sidelong glance, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Tina’s frustration bubbled over at their dismissive attitude. “Y’all are such dicks,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief. It was clear she wasn’t just annoyed—she was hurt by the fact that they could so easily write Betty off, they knew Betty they had classes with Betty.

Without waiting for a response, Tina scoffed and turned away from the group. Her footsteps were quick, purposeful, the sound of her sneakers slapping against the pavement louder than usual as she stormed off.

“Oh my god, are you on your period or something?” Scotty called out as he turned around to watch her leave throwing his hands up in the air, only to met with the finger of Tina’s.

Scotty took the hit to the chest, the force of it knocking the breath out of him. He staggered back a bit, but Jet didn't seem impressed. Jet shook his head, the disappointment clear on his face. "You knew that was wrong, man," he said, his voice carrying an edge of frustration.

Scotty didn’t respond immediately, but David awkwardly nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting uncomfortably between the two. Jet let out a heavy sigh, clearly done with the back-and-forth. "You’ve been acting like a total jerk off, Scott," he added, his voice softer now, but still firm.

Scotty let out a short, almost derisive laugh. "Oh, whatever," he muttered, trying to brush it off, but it was clear Jet and David weren’t buying it. The silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on him. They both turned their backs, walking off toward Tina without another word.

Scott watched them go, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t say anything. He was used to being alone at this point, and it didn’t bother him like it used to. Sure, things had been rough—his drinking, his attitude, the constant failures, the addictions—but he wasn’t about to admit any of it. He didn’t need them. Didn’t need anyone. He’d figure it out on his own, just like always. It was whatever.

Scotty’s gaze wandered lazily across the school grounds, his attention catching on his sister, Jennifer, and her group of friends. They were standing a fair distance away by the row of rusted trashcans, Henry and his little friends pushing the group around.

He rolled his eyes, an involuntary sigh escaping his lips. His patience, already thin, yes he wasn’t close to his sister but his mom would kill him if he ever knew he allowed his sister be hurt. Scotty pushed his hands into his pockets and started toward them, his steps deliberate and heavy.

As Scotty drew closer, he noticed Henry seemed to be walking away, his back turned, But before he could fully disappear into the crowd, Bill a lanky kid with a perpetual scowl—suddenly piped up. “You suck, Bowers!” Bill stuttered, his voice sharp with anger. It was as if the words were forced out of him, a weak attempt at standing his ground.

Scotty’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in response, that was the first time he seen the kid stick up for himself. But then, just as quickly, a small, almost amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Eddie who was standing slightly behind Bill, shot him a quick, fearful look and muttered, “Shut up.” Eddie’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to cut through the tension his voice was small.

The atmosphere between the group grew tense as Henry, Belch, and Patrick turned sharply to face Bill, their eyes narrowing with growing annoyance. Bill, still standing there with his hand outstretched, stammered nervously, his words tripping over themselves. “Y-y-y-y-say something, B-B-Billy?” Henry mocked, a smirk spreading across his face as he leaned in closer.

Bill took a step back, visibly uncomfortable, but before he could respond, Henry’s taunt filled the air. The rest of the gang, including Belch and Patrick, chuckled quietly behind him, their attention shifting from Bill to the more interesting target: Scotty.

“You heard him,” Scotty scoffed from a few feet away, his voice dripping with disdain. A small laugh escaped his lips, a sound that made Henry’s smile falter for just a moment.

Henry, still grinning, shifted his gaze upward and locked eyes with Scotty. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he quoted back, “You s-s-suck, Bowers.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, an attempt to belittle him.

Before Scotty could react further, Henry shoved Bill aside roughly, sending the lanky kid stumbling to the side. The move was swift and deliberate.

With an almost predatory grin, Henry closed the space between them, getting right in Scotty’s face. “Nobody was talking to you,you useless alcoholic” he spat, his breath hot and heavy on Scotty’s cheek causing scotty to wipe his cheek from any spit that touched his cheek.

“Well, you’re quite loud, so everyone can hear your big mouth,” Scotty shot back. The words were barely out of his mouth when Henry’s hand shot out, shoving Scotty hard in the chest. Scotty stumbled back, the sudden force throwing him off balance, his feet scrambling to regain traction on the cracked pavement as he finally stood up right he shoved him back.

Henry made a quick recovery from his stumble, Henry lunged forward, his left fist connecting sharply with Scotty’s cheek. The impact was fast and brutal, sending a sting through Scotty’s face, his head snapping to the side. The force of the punch left him momentarily disoriented, stumbling back landing on his ass which was definitely gonna leave a bruise.

“Your dad is watching,” Scotty muttered, his voice heavy with a mix of frustration and sarcasm, a painful laugh escaping his lips. He winced slightly from the sting on his cheek, his eyes flicking to the side as he caught sight of Henry's face suddenly freezing, his cocky grin faltering.

Henry’s eyes shot upward, his gaze locking onto something beyond Scotty. For a moment, there was a brief flicker of hesitation before he saw what Scotty had already noticed. Just across the parking lot, outside the cop cruiser, sat Henry’s father. The cruiser was parked near the street, and the engine was off, but the car was perfectly positioned to keep a sharp eye on Henry and his little friends.

Henry’s father sat there, unblinking, with his dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he moved them down to stare at his son. He didn’t need to say a word. His gaze alone was enough to make Henry feel like prey under the eyes of a hawk. It was a look of warning—cold, piercing, and unforgiving. Henry’s stomach sank as his father’s stare drilled into him with unnerving intensity.

“This summer’s gonna be a hurt train for you and your faggot friends,” Henry said leaning in close to Bill, his hand coming up to swipe across his tongue, and then, with a mocking grin, he smeared the saliva across Bill’s cheek. Bill recoiled instantly, his face scrunching in disgust. Without another word, he turned sharply, nodding to Belch and Patrick to follow him.

“Fuck that hurt,” Scotty groaned, wincing as he tried to push himself up from the ground. The pain from Henry's punch still throbbed in his cheek, but there were other bruises now, too—each one a reminder of the mess he’d gotten himself into. Reaching out to help him to his feet. Richie, always quick to jump in, grabbed his arms, trying to pull him up as well. But with a sharp tug, he yanked his arms out of Richie’s grip and pushed himself up on his own, the movement a little unsteady but determined.

Jen shot him a look, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. “You know Mom is gonna kill you, right?” she scolded, running a hand through her hair in frustration. The words were almost rehearsed, but Scotty could see the genuine worry in her eyes.

Scotty didn’t bother to answer right away. Instead, he just winced, his hand coming up to gingerly touch the bruise on his cheek, still sore from Henry’s left hook. “You owe me,” was all he muttered, the words laced with a mixture of annoyance. His voice was tight from the pain, but he wasn’t about to let anyone see just how badly it hurt.

Jen opened her mouth to argue, but Eddie, ever the overthinker, jumped in before she could. “You know that can get infected, right?” he started quickly, his voice panicked , his hands reaching in his fanny-pack probably looking for his inhaler. “My mom once told me—”

“Thank you, Scotty,” Bill interjected abruptly, cutting Eddie off before the rambling could go any further. Bill’s voice was stilted, awkward,

Scotty gave him a glance, his face a mask of indifference. Bill’s words meant little to him. Instead, Scotty let out a quick, almost dismissive laugh, then spun on his heel. Without saying another word, he started walking away.

01 ← → 03

[katztails]

you're on your own

sorry for the longest ass wait🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

time had passed as the day went on, (name) felt like they had to say something to bill. but, they didn’t know if they could after being yelled at him not too long ago. stanley assured that they didn’t do anything wrong, but they weren’t too sure.

“i’m gonna go find bill.” (name) said, the other losers look at them in shock. “by myself…”

“(name), when bill is in one of his moods, it’s best to leave him alone.” eddie fearfully said.

“then, that sucks for him.” (name) said, beginning to walk to bill’s house, expect was their path was blocked by richie. (name) rolled their eyes and continued to walk, attempting to pass richie, but the boy grabbed their wrists. “let go, dude!”

“(name), i know you only want to do what is best for others, but for your sake, i’m not letting you go.” richie said, stilling holding a grip on their wrist. “bill is someone who you can’t be alone with—“

“i was alone with bowers, who has a shittier reputation than that, i doubt that dude will do anything to me.” (name) fought back, ripping the grip from richie off their wrist, walking away. more shouts of protests, but it was only ignored by them. they eventually slammed on the door. “bill!”

the door opened, there stood bill. “what are you doing here?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“telling you how i do things, from now on.” (name) said. “you’re not going to babysit me all summer, i’m going to hang out with whoever i want to, not who want me to."

bill crossed his arms, he was shocked, but kept it together. he knew (name) wasn't going to let him live this down, they hated being babied by people. bill noticed the rest of the losers behind (name).

"fine." bill said. "but, don't come begging for me to save you from bowers or any of his goons."

(name) nodded and then just walked off, the rest of the losers looked at them as they left bill's doorstep. they all come walking up to bill.

"what the hell was that all about?" richie asked, looking at (name) continuing to disappear into the distance. "you're not letting bowers just take them like that, are you?"

"no." bill said. "think about it, if they are around when bowers as a melt down, they'll want to come back to us, but we'll just give them the cold shoulder."

"why would we do that?" bev asked.

"bowers hates it when things don't go his way, so if (name) is around when that happens, they might change their opinion on bowers and want to come back to us, but with the condition of them not allowed to hang around bowers." bill said.

"i doubt you wouldn't want to mess up either." an all too familiar voice said, the rest of them looked over, there stood henry and vic, vic was holding out his phone, the audio recording app was on. "why would you keep your dear friend from making new ones?"

bill's eyes widened, but he clinched his fist.

"you love them, don't you?" henry asked, all with a puppy dog voice.

bill went to go for henry, but richie and stan held him back. "shut the fuck up!" bill yelled.

"new rules for (name). don't threaten them when they spend their time with us. if you do, i'll show it to them." henry said, he looked at vic, nodding his head, the two were about to walk away, but henry stopped, and turned his head back towards the losers. "oh... by the way, their lips, best kiss ever."

the two boys walked off with bill screaming and cursing at them. (name) was in for quite the treat this summer.

____

uh hi, sorry for not updating this. i have other stories that i work on on different platforms, that's why there's been no updates in the last few months. i don't plan on ending this series anytime soon, but i might just pop up and update again. anyways, have a good summer.

[leighbaye]

I JUST READ YOUR BEN'S BUNKER FIC AND IT WAS SO YUMMY! I'm not sure if it's your writing style or the way the Reader was depicted but I'm in love!! I haven't explored your blog for requesting rules or anything yet, but I'd love if you would write something similar to that fic for the losers! \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

— QUARRY PARADISE

written by mina leigh ୨ৎ , the losers 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2700

summary. it was the hottest derry, maine has been. after a quick trip for ice cream, you convince the losers to take a small dip in the quarry. you all meet up later that day prepared and bike the way there, ready to feel the refreshing water coating your skin.

labels. girly girl reader, happy go lucky, sweet & shy reader, hyper feminine reader, no definite description of reader, reader goes by y/n, she/her pronouns, closest with richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

warnings. possible language, mentions of fear/anxiety, minor physical teasing (all in good fun).

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. i’m so happy you enjoyed it! i really didn’t think it would appeal to anyone but i really appreciate it babes! lots of love, this one - shot goes specifically to you. ♡

the sun was relentless, beating down on derry like it was trying to burn the small town into nothing. the ice cream in your hand had already melted half down your wrist, and you watched as the losers struggled to finish theirs before it became a complete disaster.

you couldn’t help but laugh as richie dramatically groaned, holding out his cone. ❝ i swear, if this thing gets any messier, i’m throwing it in the trash. ❞

❝ you wouldn’t dare, ❞ you teased, knowing full well richie would probably shove it in someone’s face before wasting it.

you sat on the curb of the ice cream shop, legs tucked beneath you as you felt the heat radiate off the sidewalk. derry wasn’t usually this hot, but today was different, and your friends were all trying to keep cool with their sticky, melting treats.

eddie sat beside you, carefully licking at his cone like it was a mission he had to complete without any error. his eyes darted over to richie. ❝ you do realize you’re supposed to eat it, right? not just complain about it? ❞

richie grinned, messy and smug. ❝ oh, eds, you know me so well. ❞

you wiped the drips of ice cream from your wrist, turning to look at the group. ❝ it’s too hot to sit here, ❞ you sighed, squinting against the sunlight. ❝ we should do something fun. ❞

stan raised an eyebrow, always the practical one. ❝ like what? the pool’s too crowded. ❞

you huffed.

❝ the quarry, ❞ you suggested, the idea hitting you like a breath of fresh air. ❝ it’s perfect! we can cool off, and it won’t be packed with people like the pool. ❞

there was a brief silence as everyone considered it. bill was the first to nod, his face already flushed from the heat. ❝ sounds good to m-m-me, ❞ he agreed, looking around to gauge the others.

you squealed, kissing his cheek all in good fun. ❝ thank you, thank you, thank you bill! i knew you would agree. ❞

he smilled softy placing his hand where your lips touched his face gently.

ben smiled softly, wiping sweat from his forehead. ❝ yeah, i’m in. we just have to be careful. ❞

❝ oh, come on, ben, ❞ richie groaned. ❝ it’s not like we’re jumping off cliffs. we’re just gonna swim. ❞

❝ actually, that’s exactly what the quarry is, ❞ eddie corrected, looking mildly horrified at the thought of jumping into the water.

you nudged him lightly with your elbow. ❝ it’ll be fun, eddie. we’ll just float around in the water, i promise. ❞

❝ if they do end up doing so, i’ll just accompany you regardless! ❞

he sighed, but there was a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ❝ fine, but if i get an infection, i’m blaming you. ❞

you laughed, standing up and dusting off your shorts. ❝ deal. let’s meet back up later. we can bike there together. ❞

later that day, you found yourself biking down the familiar path to the quarry, the warm air rushing past as you pedaled alongside your friends. richie rode beside you, tossing out jokes every few seconds, his glasses slipping down his nose as the wind whipped through his hair.

❝ so, y/n, ❞ he said, leaning closer with a smirk, ❝ if eddie starts panicking, you’re on distraction duty. ❞

he didn’t have to tell you twice.

you grinned, swerving playfully to avoid a rock in the path. ❝ oh, don’t worry. i’ve got it covered. ❞

you arrived at the quarry, parking your bikes in the usual spot. the shimmering water below looked so inviting, and the heat of the day made the idea of jumping in even more appealing. you quickly peeled off your shoes, giggling as the others did the same, some more enthusiastically than others.

you were sporting a cute red gingham ruffled swimsuit underneath a pair of old jean shorts.

eddie lingered by the edge, eyeing the water nervously. ❝ this … looks a lot higher than i remember. ❞

richie rolled his eyes, already halfway to the ledge. ❝ that’s because you’re standing up here like a loser. come on, eddie, don’t be a wuss. ❞

you shot richie a quick look, gently tugging eddie toward the water. ❝ ignore him. he’s just showing off. we’ll take it slow, alright? ❞

eddie nodded, still not convinced, but trusting you enough to step closer.

ben, stan, and bill were already easing into the water from a lower point, avoiding the jump. you followed suit, dipping your toes in and shivering as the coolness spread up your legs. it was freezing at first, but the relief was immediate, making you sigh in contentment.

❝ oh my god, this feels amazing, ❞ you murmured, wading in deeper.

eddie, with your help, finally stepped in, wincing as the cold water hit his skin. ❝ it’s so cold! ❞

❝ don’t worry eds, you’ll get used to it, ❞ you assured him, giving him a small splash. ❝ just float, and you’ll forget all about it. ❞

as soon as everyone was in the water, it turned into a game of splashes and laughter. richie, of course, was the loudest, egging everyone on as he swam circles around you and eddie, trying to start a splash war.

❝ you guys are no fun, ❞ he teased, pushing his glasses up as he slicked back his hair.

you giggled, splashing him lightly. ❝ maybe we just don’t want to get our hair wet, ❞ you shot back playfully.

richie scoffed, clutching his chest dramatically. ❝ y/n, you wound me. ❞

the rest of the afternoon passed in easy joy, the cool water providing the perfect escape from the oppressive heat. you floated on your back at one point, letting the sun warm your face while the water kept the rest of you cool. you could hear the others splashing and joking around nearby, the sound of your friends’ voices mixing with the soft ripple of the quarry.

eddie floated beside you, eyes closed and content. ❝ thanks for making me come. ❞ he said quietly, barely audible over the splashes.

you smiled softly, turning your head toward him. ❝ anytime, eds. ❞

as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you all reluctantly made your way out of the water, the air now feeling cool against your wet skin. you wrapped yourself in the towel you’d brought, sitting on the rocks to dry off as the others did the same.

richie flopped down beside you, shaking his wet hair like a dog. ❝ so, y/n, think you could survive a summer in derry without us? ❞

you glanced over at him, grinning. ❝ not a chance. ❞

you reached for beverly’s hand, accepting your touch of affection returned the favor and giggled along with you.

to turned to the losers and furrowed your eyebrows and smiled a bit as a small amount of heat rushed through your face. flustered.

❝ thanks for coming with me guys, i love you all so much. ❞

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024