nightmares - s.u. (fictober!)
prompt number: 20 - “you could talk about it, you know?”
fandom: it (stan uris x reader)
a/n: boy do i love stanley uris.
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you ran your fingers lazily through the curls of the boy who was currently resting contently with his head in your lap. he hummed quietly as you did, a faint smile teasing the corners his lips. your other hand was entwined with his, resting at your side.
it was somewhere near midnight, and you were absolutely exhausted, but right then, none of that mattered. all you cared about in that moment was making sure that stanley uris felt safe, and loved, and happy.
you'd woken up from a peaceful sleep to a furious storm thrashing outside your house- rain crashed down on your roof, and from what you could see through your bedroom window, it wasn't stopping anytime soon.
as soon as you'd woken up, you knew that there was already a slim chance of you getting back to sleep. throw a thunderstorm into the mix? now, there was just no hope for you.
you let out a weary sigh, turning over in your bed so that you were facing away from your window. however unlikely your goal, there would be no harm in at least attempting to get some sleep. you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping for the best.
much to your distaste, the storm continued to rage on outside your window. you silently begged your ears to tune it out, but soon gave up, figuring it was no use. wait- was that the storm?
you'd thought you heard a knocking sound on your window. you looked behind you, in the direction of the window, waiting to hear it again. when the sound didn't return, you figured it was just your imagination, and laid back down.
there it was again! you propped yourself up on your elbows, squinting through the darkness and towards your window. "better not be that damn clown," you mumbled before throwing your covers aside and standing up.
you crept slowly through the dark, half of you expecting to see the bug-eyed face of pennywise the dancing clown staring back at you. however, once you did reach your window, you were met with a different surprise.
when stan saw you, his face lit up. he was positively drenched, and it was hard to see him through the downpour, but you could spot those curls from a mile away.
you opened your window, completely ignoring the vicious weather. "stan? hold on- go to the back door, i'll be there in a second,"
he nodded, and you closed your window. you worked briskly to mop up the puddle that had collected under the window, using some clothes that had been discarded on your bedroom floor.
then, as quickly and quietly as you could, you slunk out of your room, and down the hallway to your kitchen. after a moment of rummaging in one of the drawers, you found a flashlight. you turned it on, just to check that it was working, and then turned it back off. hurriedly, you tiptoed through your house, and finally opened the back door.
you shone your flashlight directly into your friends face, causing his hand to fly up. "hey!"
"sorry, stanny," you said, pointing it down a bit. "i didn't know you were standing there." you turned off the flashlight and motioned for him to come in.
"but i'll get water all over your-"
"relax, stan," you smiled, pulling him in by his arm. "i'll make up some excuse to tell my parents,"
the boy followed you as you returned the flashlight to its drawer before heading back to your bedroom.
once you closed your door, turned your bedroom light on, and got stan a blanket. you thrust it toward him, waiting for him to reach out and take it.
he shook his head, accidentally sending water flying. "i'll get it wet!" he pushed the blanket away, but you forced your hand back.
"but it'll get you dry!" you dropped the blanket in his arms, turning around and walking away from him. he wrapped himself in the blanket, however begrudgingly, as you flopped down on your bed.
you watched him carefully. you thought his eyes looked a bit red, but under your dim bedroom light, combined with the fact that he was already soaking wet from the rain, you couldn't tell if he's been crying or not. what you could see, though, was his facial expression. he looked sad as hell, and scared, for that matter.
"you could talk about it, you know?" you said softly, throwing him a smile. he looked up from the ground to meet your gaze. now you could clearly see the tears streaming from his eyes.
"it was awful," his voice shook as he spoke. "it was a nightmare. i was in the neibolt house- alone- and the door of the room i was in slammed closed behind me. it felt so real," you gestured for him to come sit next to you on your bed. "no, i'll get water all over your-"
"stanley uris, no one fucking cares about a tiny little wet spot! i wouldn't mind it, i promise! i just want you to sit next to me!" he looked surprised, but complied. "keep going,"
"i, um-" he coughed a little bit, looking down. "it wasn't the lady from the painting." you made a face. that portrait was the signature thing pennywise used for stan. there was a special thing it used to torture all of you, and for stan, it was the painting. why would it switch up on him, but not on any of you?
"then what was it?" you asked, your brows knitting themselves together. "why would it change? do you think it changed for anyone els-"
"it was you." stan said quickly, looking down at his feet. you tried to say something but the words wouldn't come out. you? it was you?
you took a deep breath, taking another shot at speaking. "stan, i don't-"
"it's because i love you, okay?" he had finally decided to look at you again, but your eyes were glazing over quickly. he loved-? no, no, that couldn't be right.
you let out an awkward laugh, rubbing your eyes with your fingers. "sorry, stanny, i guess i'm still half asleep or something. i thought you said you-"
"i love you." he said again, more clearly. he straightened his spine so that he was sitting entirely upright. he was a lot more audacious with it this time, adding a little nod at the end. now there was no denying it- you'd heard correctly. you wanted to respond, but your brain had frozen. you couldn't think of anything; stan's word replayed over and over again in your brain, obstructing your train of thought.
"you don't have to say anything, i know you don't like me back," he muttered, after a while, looking away from you.
no! no! you did, you did, you did! of course you liked stan! you loved stan! you'd loved him since the two of you were little kids! you loved stanley uris with every fiber in your being, and you wanted to scream it from the hilltops! despite your very passionate feelings on the issue, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make a single sound.
you reached out and grabbed his hand, in a desperate attempt to communicate. he looked back at you, confused. you continued to try to talk, but, once again, nothing was coming out.
“okay, this is getting sort of old,” you thought, rolling your eyes internally. “fine then. don't talk,” you were done fighting with yourself. besides, you'd found a work around. you closed your eyes, and started to lean in.
all at once, your lips were pressed on his, the tips of your noses rubbing together as you tried to navigate the kiss. when the two of you finally broke apart, stan's cheeks were flushed.
"i love you too, stan," you mumbled, grinning widely as you allowed your head to come to rest on his shoulder.
you weren't really sure what had happened after that, but somehow, the two of you ended in the position you were in now: his head laying in your lap, your fingers laced through his curls.
the room was silent, but the air was not tense or awkward. it was more of a tranquil, relaxed quiet than a silence; just two soft presences, enjoying one another's company.
"stan?" you said quietly. no reply came. you grinned at him, watching lovingly as he breathed. he'd finally gotten to sleep, and so far, as far as you could tell, wasn't heading for nightmares.
you stared at him as he slept, overwhelmed with the joys of the night. "you have my heart, stanley uris," you whispered into the darkness.
"i know," he replied, startling you. so he wasn't asleep! he smiled lightly towards you, his eyes still closed. "and you have mine,"
