I love fics where the reader is Latina, but I have only seen one that the reader is Brazilian (I'm Brazilian myself so I loooooved it). And it might sound very silly but it felt really nice reading it and actually relating to a character for the first time. So if anyone has more fic rec where the reader is either Brazilian or doesn't have her Latin origins predefined, please recommend me !!!
Showing - IT 2017
Staring - Bill Denborough (Age Up) X Reader (Henry Bower's Lil Sis)
Rating - 18+ (Swearing / Knives / make outs/ grinding / HJ/ CTasting/ hickeys/ 'Owning' / Dom&Sub)
Reading Time - 19 min 48 sec (2572)
Bill was down by the kissing bridge feeling lonely and angry as usual, Richie was off at the arcade, Bev was off with Ben, Stanley had some Hebrew school class and even Eddie was at some long-winded doctor’s appointment. So he went down to the kissing bridge, looking at all the carved names and initials, pulling out his small knife to carve 'FUCK' onto it.
A chuckle made him jump. "Well, well. Hey there, Denborough."
He flipped around and couldn't have pissed himself, as there stood Y/n, Henry Bowser's little sister, as vile and cruel as her big brother. She'd been bullying Bill and the losers since kindergarten, and she'd given him way too many beatings already. She wore boots, a short pleated skirt, a band tee cut up to fit her, and a plaid over shirt. Bill stared at her and felt his heart drop. He’d never had to actually deal with one of the Bowers by himself, but he had to hold his ground. “Oh g-g-great.” he muttered. “What are you doing here?”
"I could ask you the same question." She smirked, coming closer. "Would think you boys too scared to walk the bridge, you know my big brother has a toll here. And I remember your chubby friend Ben got his guts cut out for trying to skip it."
“Y-y-y-yeah, I remember that.” Bill nodded, “Well, I’m not here to pass the bridge. I’m just l-leaving something here for a certain fucker. You don’t mind, do you?” he said sarcastically, knowing damn well she and her brother ruled this part of town.
"Oh? And what fucker is that?" She asked.
Bill turned back and started to carve ‘HENRY BOWER’S A WANKER’ into the kissing bridge.
Y/n laughed but grabbed Bill by his shirt and dragged him to the other side of the bridge. "Awww, you're cute. But the only one who gets to insult my big brother is me."
Bill tried to rip himself free of her grip, but was far too weak and short to get her to let go. “Oh yeah?” he said, with a slight waver in his voice. “And w-what’s his little sister g-g-gonna do to me?”
Y/n pried the knife Bill had used to carve on the wooden bridge from his hand, taking it in her own. "Hummm, cute, and little. Just like the rest of you, Bill." She smirked, tossing it into the water. And pulling out a switchblade, "This is a knife, honey." She cooed, resting it against his cheek.
Bill gulped. “Yeah, t-th-hanks.” he nodded. His voice was growing more nervous by the second. He swallowed hard, “You’re not g-g-gonna cut me, are you? Can’t you just let me go?”
She chuckled. "Hummm… Maybe," she smirked, "maybe I should take your pants down and cut your little cock off, I bet my big brother would be real proud of me."
That took Bill’s fear to a whole new level. His eyes widened and his face lost some colour as a very strong shiver ran down his whole body. “Y-y-y-y-y-you w-w-w-w-wouldn’t.” he croaked out,
"Wouldn't I?" She smirked.
“Please. I uh… You won’t.”
"Hummm… Maybe we can make a deal."
Bill nodded quickly. “Yeah uh… yeah okay. Deal. What’s the deal?”
"I'll let you off the bridge toll, and I won't tell my big brother it was you who carved that into the bridge." She smirked. "All you gotta do, is keep that mouth shut, not a single sound out of it until I tell you. You think you can handle that?"
Bill let out a shaky sigh of relief, feeling, “I uh… yeah okay.” he nodded. “I won’t- I can keep my m-m-mouth shut. Not make a sound or anything… Easy, easy deal. Yeah.”
She smirked. "Good boy, now not a sound until I say okay?"
Bill swallowed, still feeling pretty freaked out. “Okay,” he agreed.
“No sounds,” Y/n smirked and, without even moving the knife, she kissed him.
Bill was not expecting that, not in the slightest. It took a few seconds before he even started to kiss back, just standing there, shocked for a second. But once he did a little more, he felt slightly less nervous, only when he began to kiss back, she took his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. “Mmmph!” Bill let out a small gasp against her mouth.
Y/n pulled back. "Not a sound, Bill."
Bill nodded. “Sorry s- sorry,” he mumbled.
She huffed and went back to their kiss,
He kissed her back, feeling less nervous now. He put a hand nervously on her waist, and let out a small gasp when she nibbled at his lower lip again.
She hummed into the kiss, moving her body against his, licking across his bottom lip to ask for entrance.
He moaned slightly when she pressed against him like that. He moaned quietly again and happily parted his lips to let her in.
She slipped her tongue past his teeth and turned their kiss into a make-out. Her hand with the blade moved away, flicking the knife away and stuffing it in her pocket to wrap her arms around Bill's neck
Bill moaned again. Her tongue against his felt… Weird and strange. But not bad, weird and strange. It honestly felt really good, and Bill moaned into her, pulling her ever so slightly closer.
Y/n pulled back but just enough to kiss down Bill's jaw and neck, finding his sweet spot and biting a hickey into his skin.
Bill moaned loudly, tilting his head back so she had full access to his neck. He let out a string of soft moans when she marked him up. His hands gripped a little tighter on her waist as he pressed against her more. “Mmmm!”
"No noises." She reminds him, giving him more hickeys.
He tried to keep quiet, but was finding it difficult. The feeling of her sucking a mark into his neck was making him feel very needy. He couldn’t help it. And let out a high-pitched moan again. “Nnnngh… It’s hard,” he huffed.
"Humm don't make me turn you over and give you a spanking, Denborough." She growled,
Bill felt a shiver go down his spine at that, going quiet again. He swallowed thickly. “Sorry…”
She smirked, nibbling on the hickeys she just made. "You know what these mean, don't you?"
Bill was trying really hard to keep his mouth shut, trying to remember the deal they made, but it got very very, very difficult when she kept marking up his neck. “Mmm… No…” he mumbled. “What… What do they mean?”
"They mean… I own you, honey."
Bill moaned again at that, his hips twitching lightly. “Y-you…You o-w-wwn me…”
"mhm… You're all mine." She smirked.
When she said that, he moaned again, slightly louder again. “Y-yours. All yours,” he murmured. “Oh f-fuck…”
"Say it, Denborough."
Bill moaned again, feeling needy and already forgetting about the deal from the pleasure. “I’m yours… Yours, all yours…” he moaned.
"Good boy." She cooed. "And when they start to fade… You'll come find me and let me freshen them up nice and dark, won't you?" She smirked, biting down right above his collar, where he couldn't hide it.
Bill moaned loudly at that, tilting his head back to give her more space. “Y-yeah… I’ll come find you… F-for you to… To make ‘em all dark n’ fresh again and… Yeah…” he moaned,
"mhm… Who's a good boy?" Y/n cooed,
“Me…” he whimpered. He moaned again when she left another bite mark on him. “Oh f-fuck…”
Y/n pulled back, finally leaning on the other side of the bridge's railing, licking her lips at the state she'd left him, looking over the work she'd done to Bill.
He was a complete wreck. His neck was marked up with hickeys and bite marks. His legs are slightly shakey, and he looked desperately needy. He whined and looked at her with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. “Please… Please…” he murmured.
Y/n smirked, pulling out a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it up "Oh? I don't remember telling you to speak." She growled. "What do you want, Denborough? What's my baby begging for?"
Bill moaned again at that, feeling himself shiver as she called him that. He whined and looked at her, eyes wide and pleading. “Please…” he repeated. “Please just touch me or something!” he whined.
"awww, you miss me that much already?" She smirked,
Bill moaned quietly, feeling like he was being teased. He nodded and whined. “Mmm yeah… y-yeah I do… Please…”
Y/n laughed and came over cigarette in hand. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, immediately going into a make-out. The heat of her cigarette beside his ear.
Bill moaned against her mouth, his hands going almost immediately to her hips. He gripped her tightly, pulling her slightly closer so she was pressed up more against him. His mouth sloppily met hers, letting her in every time she went for him, feeling completely needy and desperate for her touch. He was getting overwhelmed and desperately trying to get some friction. He pressed himself more against her, rolling his hips against hers in a needy attempt for some kind of pressure.
Y/n smirked and pulled back, whispering against his lips. "Humm, calm down… You can fuck me later, Denborough."
Bill moaned desperately and whined when she pulled away, chasing her lips with his own. “Later?” he asked, breathless. “Don’t wanna… Wanna wait…” he murmured,
"Yeah? You don't wanna wait, baby? You're too hard? Too excited? You'll cum in your pants if I don't let you fuck me?" She cooed, pinching his cheek with the same hand that held her cigarette,
Bill moaned again at her words, squeezing her waist and pressing himself more up against her, his hips twitching and still trying to get friction like that. “Y-yes…” he murmured against her lips. “P-please, I don’t want to wait…” he pleaded.
"Say it." She growled, "Admit to everything."
Bill swallowed hard, feeling small when underneath the glare of her eyes. “I’m… I’m h-hard…” he admitted, avoiding her eyes. “A-and desperate for you…”
"Yeah? So hard and desperate for me? You'll end up jerking off tonight just to the thought of my kisses if I don't let you fuck me?" She cooed,
He moaned again. He felt so dirty and small, with her towering above him and telling him things like that, but he loved it. “Y-yeah…” he nodded. “I’m m-more than likely g-going to… if you’re not going to take care of m-me…”
Y/n chuckled. "Beg puppy."
He whined, shifting nervously. “Please!” he moaned, sounding desperate, needy. His arms were still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. “Please touch me… A-anything…”
Y/n laughed, "You are so cute…" She put out her cigarette on the railing of the bridge and began to rub him through his jeans. "Yeah? That's what you want, baby?"
Bill moaned loudly, head tilting back against the bridge. He moaned quietly between moans, leaning into the touch from his hands on her waist, and pushing up slightly into her hands. “Ffuckk… Y-yes…” he murmured. “Yes, yes m-more…”
"shhh shh you get what you're given." She growled, slipping her hand into his jeans. "Humm, who owns you, Bill?"
He moaned again at her hand on him, feeling himself start to leak a little bit of precum already. “You…” he murmured, voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “You own me…”
"Good boy," she growled, taking his cock fully in her hand, rubbing his leaked precum with her thumb and starting to jerk him off. "Who owns this cute cock?”
Bill moaned, his grip on her waist tightening as she worked him. His head stayed slightly tilted back against the bridge, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as she moved her hand over him. “You do…” he moaned. “Y-you own it..”
"Good boy," she cooed, kissing his neck, "and who is it you're going to think about every time you cum from now on?"
Bill’s breath hitched, “Y-you…” he murmured back, “N-no one else… Just you… only you… Ahhh…”
"Good boy." She growled. "Next time you get hard… What are you going to do?"
“I’ll… I’ll t-try to find you…”
"You come find me so I can take care of you." She smirked,
Bill moaned again, feeling close now. He was writhing and gasping, and desperately trying to focus on her talking, but only really half hearing her. “Mmm! Yes… Yes…” he moaned. “Yes, I’ll f-find you…”
"awww, you close Bill?"
“Mmm… m-mhm!” he tried to speak, but it came out as a moan instead. “C-close… S-so close…”
Y/n laughed. "You can cum so long as you tell me you love me."
Bill moaned, feeling himself twitching in her hand. His brain felt fuzzy, and he’d have said whatever she wanted in that moment, so he moaned a desperation. “I love you! I l-love you…” He moaned, trying to lean more into her.
"Good boy." She kissed his cheek, speeding up her hand.
He tried to hold off for a moment, but as her hand sped up and gripped him just the right way, he tipped over the edge. He felt so good as he moaned loudly. His nails dug into her waist, and his whole body tensed as he came in her hand. He moaned and moaned, feeling the pleasure take over and make his eyes screw shut with pleasure. He moaned her name, gasping for air.
"That's it, that's my good little Bill." She cooed, pulling her hand away and licking his semen from her hand. "What a good boy,"
Bill was panting, body still twitching from the high and feeling spent. He looked at her with a glassy look in his eyes, completely lost in his bliss and pleasure. “I’s your good boy…” he murmured without thinking.
Y/n laughed. "Awww, is you good, boy?" She teased,
“Mhmm…” he murmured out, still sounding completely gone and high on pleasure.
Y/n laughed, giving Bill a long, passionate kiss, dipping her tongue deep into his mouth.
Bill moaned into the kiss, feeling too overwhelmed to do anything but accept whatever she did to him. She eventually pulled back, leaving Bill still lost in a daze. He still had a glassy look in his eyes and was panting, and he moaned when she pulled away. “Oh fuckk…” he murmured, still trying to regain himself.
Y/n scoffed, fixing his hair, "What are those magic words I like to hear?"
Bill blushed, remembering her making him say that. He still felt embarrassed with the state she’d left him in and having to repeat that, but he obliged. “I… I l-love you…” He murmured blushing hard.
"Good boy," she cooed, giving him one more kiss. "I'll be seeing you, Denborough," she smirked, walking across the bridge.
Bill, still a bit gone, just watched her walk away. He was in a bit of a daze, both physically and mentally. He slumped back against the railing, attempting to catch his breath and regain himself even more. “Yeah… see ya…” he murmured, a bit dazed still.
"Don't make me wait too long, Bill." She yelled as she walked away,
Bill felt himself shiver at her words as he watched her leave. He still had this feeling of desperation, like he wanted her to stay, but he knew what she wanted and knew she expected to meet again. He knew by the tone of her last words, and he felt himself shiver again. The words she put in his mind still played in his head, and he felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment all over again. He could barely believe it was real, and he knew none of the losers would ever believe him. He just made out and got jerked off by Y/n Bowers! And… he’d loved it! He could only hope his hickeys faded fast, so she might come and do it all over again.
“You're not doing them right." "I am too. Look Ma, no hands."
Bill Denbrough x Tozier!Reader
(minor Stanley Uris x Best Friend!Reader, minor Bill Denbrough x Greta; past Victor Criss x reader)
Pronouns used: she/her/hers
Tropes: Mutual pinning, friends to lovers
Word Count: 5.8K
Summary: With only one summer break left in their lives, the mutual pinning and sexual tension between the two seems to make Derry, Maine sweltering.
Warnings: Alcohol mentions (like a lot, including blow job shots), swearing, suggestive situations but there's no smut (mentions of him having a wet dream about her though), Richie calls the reader a whore once but its not to her face and he doesn't mean anything by it, mentions of old men being perverts, man i don't know I was feeling real silly and this came out a mess. I like my mess though, I think it's neat.
There were two things that Bill Denbrough was certain of, even if they seemed to contradict one another. The first of them being that Bill was destined for so much better than Derry, Maine had ever been able to offer him, but the second one? The second one was that no feeling would ever match the summers he got to experience in his youth, beating the devil on Silver with the losers club around him like the greatest support system he’d ever been graced to know. Back before the losers club was split at six different colleges across three different states, even before (Y/n) Tozier got wrapped up with Victor Criss when the losers were sophomores in highschool. Back in middle school when the summers came with swimming in your underwear and couch cushion change ice cream cones, no jobs to get in the way of their fun, just summer reading lists. Even if those summers came with running from the Bower’s gang, nothing would ever touch the feeling of them, he was positive that happiness peaked back then.
Summer and winter breaks in Derry still might be able to come close though. Even with the underwear changed out for real swimsuits and the couch cushion change being exchanged for paychecks, the eight of them were still together. For three months things could feel as close as they possibly could to the group's old normal. Of course, even then, nothing lasts forever and nothing stays the same. Bill was finding himself painfully aware that more than just their swimsuits had changed the longer they were in college. Don’t get him wrong, William Denbrough has always been aware that (Y/n) Tozier was hot, or at least since they were hitting puberty and he realized he did find women hot and not just pretty. But he swore the more time they spent apart, the better she’d look by the time they saw each other again. Now though, as he watches Stanley Uris and (Y/n) walk down to them from her car, a shirt in his favorite color barely hiding her swimsuit, Bill is seriously wondering if the girl is trying to kill him.
“God, I thought that New York was never letting you two go, It’s been a lifetime,” Richie is springing up from his spot on a towel beside Bill to run to his best friend and sister. A goofy grin stretched across his face and his wet hair dripping on them as he wraps his arms around the duo, pulling both of them against him with so much vigor that it makes the girl stumble into his chest. Despite that, they’re both laughing, leaning their heads against his shoulders as they each swing an arm around his waist. “We got here one day later than you did, Rich,” her words come out on a giggle sounding like sugar as she pulls away first, sliding to the side to she survey the group that’s already there. Eyes bouncing from the four playing chicken fight in the water to where Bill is resting on a towel, legs pulled up as if on the cusp of standing to go to her.
Those bright eyes stay trained on him as she reaches down to grasp the hem of the “University of Maine, Ontoro” shirt that barely covers her ass. There’s a bleach stain on the left shoulder, the navy giving way to more of an orange hue that immediately marks it as his shirt that she’d borrowed last thanksgiving break. The one he’d leant her after Georgie spilt a whole gravy boat of giblet gravy on her turtleneck. She’s beaming as she lifts his shirt over her head, bunching it up in one hand as she runs up to him. “Bill!” He barely has time to rise to his feet before he’s catching her in his arms, body flushing at the feeling of her skin pressed up against his. “Hey, (Y/n/n).” “I missed you,” she’s mumbling against the boy’s neck, face hidden from view as she tugs him ever so slightly closer. “I missed you too,” he looks down to the bunched fabric she’d dropped haphazardly at his side, “And my shirt.” The girl laughs, pulling away from his chest, “Oh please, you couldn’t care less about that old, stained shirt.” Her hands find purchase on his biceps, sliding them down to his elbows as she looks him over with a soft smile, “I’ll give it back if you really want me to, though.”
They’re cut off by Stan before he can speak, the boy clapping his hand down on Bill’s shoulder as he shakes his head. “She won’t, she sleeps in it at least twice a week, that’s her favorite pajama top,” as Bill turns to him the boy cuts him a smile, “Hey man.” “Hey Stan, and she can keep it.I accepted I’d never see it again when she went back to New York with it in November.” She’s giggling, ruffling his hair before pulling away from him completely. “Victory is once again mine, William.” It’s impossible to hold back the boyish grin that stretches across his cheeks, the eye roll he couples with it does nothing to counteract it.
“(Y/n) Tozier! You better get over here before we drag you in this water!” Beverly’s airy laugh cuts through the scene as she screams, Ben throwing her off his shoulders and into the water as she does. It’s enough to drag the gentler of the Tozier twins away, the girl nearly running into the quarry water as she squeals for Beverly. Both girls collapse into each other as they fuss over their long-time missed best friend; wild hands smoothing over hair and pulling bodies together in a long awaited hug.
Bill lets himself settle back on the towels, eyes trained on the girls in the water as he sits with Richie and Stan. “Uris, and I mean this as friendly as I can, you better not be the person in New York turning my little sister into a whore.” His remark makes the boys on either side of Richie snap towards him. “First of all, you are thirteen minutes older than her, stop acting like her older brother. Secondly, it’s just a bikini, Richie. She doesn’t go home with anyone from parties and she barely dates. In no way is (Y/n) Tozier a whore. A flirt maybe, but not a whore.” It makes the dark haired boy scoff, turning to Bill with this “get a load of this” type look spread over his face. “She’s wearing a thong string bikini right now, Stan. That’s for somebody. And it’s fine if it’s you, I’d rather it be someone I know and trust, but if you make me an uncle before she’s done with school-” “Richie, I have a girlfriend. One you met over spring break,” Stan rolls his eyes, shoving Richie’s shoulder with a scoff. Despite the annoyance in his actions, Stanley has a shit-eating grin stretched across his features. “Maybe it’s for Mike,” the boy's voice has a cheesy, sing-song tone as he nudges Richie.
At his words, Bill turns back to the quarry, watching as (Y/n) reaches out for Bev from Mike’s shoulders. Eddie wading in the water near them, quickly talking about something that the boys on the land can’t quite make out. It’s nowhere near flirty, purely leaning on playful and yet it still seems to make Bill’s mouth sour, forcing his eyes away from the group. “Oh please,” Richie scoffs, “Everyone knows Mike’s just as much a brother to her as I am. Maybe Victor Criss, I did let it slip he’s back in town this summer. He called his engagement off, maybe she’s trying to swoop back in.” Bill shoves his side, honestly rougher than he intended as he glares at his friend. “Don’t play like that, you know how that ended.”
“Relax, Denbrough. I’m kidding, we all know who she’d be wearing something scandalous and navy blue for anyway,” Richie shoves him back, albeit much gentler than Bill had shoved him. Bill can feel the heat in his cheeks and he finds himself hoping to all things good and holy that Richie will just think he’s getting sunburnt. “God, Richie, it’s hot and their apartment has a pool. I doubt it means anything.” Stan hums at that, leaning around the taller boy between them to look at Bill, equally as teasing as his best friend as he quirks a brow at the shortest boy. “Actually, she bought that one last week before she packed to come down.” Bill opens his mouth to respond but a call from the girl in question cuts him off, nearly being his saving grace.
“Billy! Come out here so we can show Eddie and Mike how chicken fights are done! Shorty thinks he could beat me, I need the dream team!” It comes out on a giggle, the girl waving him down with both hands. “Do not call me fucking short, we are the same height, (Y/n)!” Eddie is pushing the girl under the water, or at least doing his best attempt to as she dodges him laughing, sending splashed waves of water up into the boy’s face. “Well,” he smirks, standing up and dusting himself off, “Duty calls.” Bill turns away from them but only seems to make it a couple of steps before turning right back around, “And while I’m thinking about it, Welcome home thing for the eight of us at my place on Saturday, be there, bring booze.” He points a playful set of finger guns to his friends before returning towards his path for the quarry.
Finally left alone, Stan leans into Richie’s side, “This is the last summer before we all finish undergrad, if they aren’t together by the end of it, I’m going to have to do something to ensure they’re together before Christmas.” It makes his friend scoff, “If they’re not together by the end of the month I’m going to intervene. I know how she talks to me about him, I’m sure you’re as fed up as I am.” He laughs, standing up and reaching a hand out to Richie, “You could surely say that one again.”
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
Saturday night couldn’t come fast enough, she’d been certain of that since she left the quarry on Monday. Of course all the losers saw each other in smaller groups, but if you asked (Y/n) it never felt right when the whole group wasn’t together. Instead, it seemed as if a part of her was missing, an empty hole looking for its pieces.
At least, she’d claim that was true, but when she and Bill were the only two who came home for thanksgiving no one can remember hearing her complain about that. It’s hard not to think that she’s only there to see him, especially when she’s sitting in a chair across the room from where he’s drinking, barely listening to a word that comes out of Ben’s mouth as her eyes stay trained on the other boy. Following his movements as he unclasps his hands from behind his back and reaches up to grab the shot glass from his mouth. He smirks, cutting her a wink as he notices the eyes on him, alcohol ever so slightly blurring his head from his spot between Stan and Richie.
“You’re not doing them right,” she’s sending him a knowing smirk right back. “I am too,” he raises his hands, palms facing her as he ever so slightly wiggles his fingers, “Look Ma, no hands.” It causes a giggle to escape from her lips, shaking her head as she waves a hand for one, “I can prove it, bring me one.” Bill picks up a shot and weaves himself around Stanley as the other boy calls her by her full name. (Y/n) doesn’t think twice before repeating Stanley’s full name back in return.
“We talked about you and doing these shots the ‘proper way’. No more of that, you’re going to get yourself hurt.” She rises to her feet in front of Bill, letting one hand fall to his chest as she turns to him, “You won’t hurt me, will you, Billy?” Her voice is dripping honey as she draws patterns on his chest with her pointer finger, eyes blown wide in mock innocence. And Bill knows there’s about a million things he could say, but he can’t bring himself to. So instead he finds himself laughing, turning back to Stan over his shoulder, “Oh come on, Stan. You don’t trust me?” It earns him a glare. “I’m not positive that I trust either of you,” a sentiment that Richie seems to agree with as he watches the two in the corner of the room turn back to each other with equally teasing smirks. “You ready for me to prove you wrong, Denbrough?” He laughs, shaking his head, “Why did I bring it to you if you were just going to get up? You could have got the shot yourself.”
She hums, pushing him ever so slightly towards the chair, “How else are you meant to take my seat? I don’t need a chair to be on my knees.” She swears that Bill almost looks sober as she says it, falling into her slightly forgotten chair with widened eyes, “W-What? Why w-would you-” She rolls her eyes, slowly lowering herself to her knees with a warm hand on his thigh for support. “It’s called a ‘blowjob shot’ Bill, you take it on your knees. That’s where the name comes from,” she’s smirking up at him, eyes half lidded with a teasing little smile. “Then p-please, educate me,” he raises his brows, leaning back slightly in the chair as she slots the shot glass between his jean clad thighs. Her hands linger on the outside of his lap as she smiles up at him, “Now, when I go down you can’t clench your thighs, I have to be able to take the glass.” She knows exactly what she’s doing, they both do. Smirking at his pink tinted cheeks and his raised brows as he watches her every move. Her soft, warm hands sliding painfully slow off of the sides of his thighs as if she’s purposely trying to tease him.
(Y/n) sends him one last smirk as she clasps her hands together on the small of her back, “Last chance to chicken out, Denbrough.” It makes him laugh, “It’s just some education, right Tozier? I’m not scared to learn.” She hums, mumbling something that he swears up and down has to be “yes sir” before lowering her face down towards his lap. If Bill thought she looked like something out of a wet dream at the quarry earlier this week, he might actively be having one right now. He’s positive he’s had a dream like this before, though there definitely wasn’t a shot glass or denim separating them in his mind that night.Thank the lord for hair ties though. She has her hair pulled back, giving him a full view of her face and the cleavage down her thin little tank top as she pulls away from his lap, tilting her body back so the shot slides down her throat. It’s like his eyes are stuck to her, watching her every minor movement as if she’s playing in slow motion for him, and Bill doesn’t think twice when he reaches forward to pluck the shot glass from between the girl’s lips. She releases it with a solid pop that he swears is damn near pornographic and he finds himself biting a lip to keep himself from reacting.
(Y/n)’s got a smear of whip cream from the shot dotted on her top lip and he swears he’s not thinking as he leans forward to swipe the pad of his thumb across it. The eye contact is heavy as she reaches forwards and grabs his wrist, bringing his thumb into her mouth to suck the cream from it. “Yeah, I think,” he swallows, watching her as she lets go of his thumb and just lets her hands rest on his thighs. “Yeah, I think I should leave that to the professionals, I don’t think I could ever do that as well as you do.” She giggles, sliding her hands up his legs as she slowly drags herself upwards. “I guess I’ll just have to give you another lesson, huh?” She stretches as she stands back up and Bill watches as a hand comes to wrap around her waist. The new addition makes him suddenly aware that they aren’t the only people in the room.
“Well look at you, huh? Putting on a little show?” Bev is wrapping an arm around her and dragging her back over to Mike before Bill can fully wrap his head around what just happened. “Oh, it’s so fun. You raised a party girl, Bev,” her arm is coming around Bev’s waist as she speaks, leaning into her side with a giggle. “Oh I raised that? We all know that Victor Criss built himself a party girl.” Even though the other girl’s words come out on a laugh, Bill notices the way that (Y/n) squares up, looking down at her hands and then around the room nervously. “Yeah,” she coughs, and Bill gets up to pull her away before she can finish. “About that, I’m actually going out to see him tomorrow night after my shift. We’re gonna get a drink and catch up.” He stops barely in front of the chair he once occupied.The room falls silent, all eyes turning to watch the Tozier girl as she turns in on herself.
“You’re going to see Victor?” He’s proud he can keep himself from stuttering, but his voice is barely holding steady as he says it. “Yeah, we’re just you know, we’re catching up. We’re gonna finally talk about what happened between us,” she refuses to meet his eyes, scanning the room to see if there’s someone else who will meet her eyes to no avail. His brows raise, finding himself glued to his spot as he turns to look at Stan and Richie, both boys mouth him some variation of “I’m sorry” as they look at him. “To talk about when he cheated on you with my girlfriend? In your bed? What could there possibly be to talk about there?”
She sighs, running a hand over her face, “You act like I’m planning to go fuck him, Bill. I’m just going to talk to him, it’s nothing.” Nothing, it’s always nothing with the Tozier twins, isn’t it? It’s nothing, I'm just going to see a guy who screwed us both over. I’m skipping our movie night that has been a sacred tradition since we were thirteen because I’m going to see my ex who cheated on me with your ex. It’s nothing. I totally wasn’t shamelessly flirting with you a minute ago, Bill. “Yeah, have fun,” he pushes himself to move, rolling his shoulders as he makes his way back to Richie and Stan’s sides, both boys clapping a hand on his back. “Anyway, I need to leave, I open in the morning,” she sighs, making her way towards his stairs and up out of his house. Bill finds himself pissed at both of them as he watches the way her shorts ride up with each speedy step she takes away from him. Even when she’s playing with his heart, he can’t tear his eyes away. What a fool he was.
“Listen, I’m sorry man,” Stan sighs, slinging an arm around her shoulders, “I heard him ask when we were locking up last night but I had no idea she had said yes.” Bill can feel his heart plummet, “He’s working with you guys again?” Of course he was, just when Bill was thinking maybe his friends weren’t just playing him, here comes the same guy who got in his way the first time. Timothy’s Diner and Victor Criss were both becoming a lot more emotional effort than they were worth. “No, he was waiting for Belch to get off, and since Belch is kitchen management there was no use arguing with him. He followed her around like a dog fetching a bone all night. I love her to death, but I think (Y/n) Tozier might be an idiot, or shameless.” Richie sighs, clapping a hand against Bill’s shoulder, “I think that if my sister is stupid enough to choose Victor Criss over you twice, she might just be the biggest buffoon I’ve ever met.” He sighs, lifting the shaker that Richie had been pouring up to his lips and taking back the double shot without thinking. The hellish mixture of patron and Everclear seeming to slice its way down his oddly tightening throat. “Dude,” Richie steps back from him, staring at the boy as if he’s about to bite. “Are you,” his words fall flat.
Bill smirks, looking over at the boys and heading towards the landline hanging on his wall, “I have a call I need to make.”
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Stanley Uris started working at Timothy’s Diner the week after he turned fifteen, and he’d spent every school break since he started college picking up shifts there. If it hadn’t been for (Y/n) begging him to come work with her, he’s not sure he would have ever picked a place like that for himself. Despite that, and everything he’s grown to hate about the place, he can’t say he could ever regret it. Stan is pretty sure there's nothing he’d trade for summer afternoons hiding by the ice machine, fanning themselves as she complains about the heat in the room. Or listening to her whine about how unfair his uniform is when she has to wear that starched little dress and tights. (Y/n) was positive that creepy old men were looking up it while she wiped down tables, and she wasn’t exactly wrong.
Stan had developed quite the reputation as he always seemed to slide up right behind her when a guy decided he wanted to be a creep. His hand reaching out to grab the towel from her as he mumbles in her ear for her to go back behind the counter. He wasn’t the only person to develop a reputation at Timothy’s though, as a certain member of the losers club had made himself notorious for bringing first dates to the diner, taking them straight to a section in the corner near the jukebox. So, it was no shock when Bill Denbrough came strolling into the diner at three-thirty that Sunday afternoon with Greta Bowie on his arm. Coming in right on time to be (Y/n)’s last table before she clocked out. Old habits will always die hard it seems, and Bill Denbrough has always been the type to fight fire with fire.
So, with a mischievous little smirk, Stan finds himself leaning through the window to interrupt whatever conversation (Y/n) and Belch Huggins had wrapped themselves up in. “Oh, (Y/n).” Her eyes cut to him, annoyance and exhaustion dancing across her features. “You’re sat.” Her face drops, “I’m off in thirty minutes. You take it.” “Oh, I don’t think they want that. You can take your last table of the day,” he’s raising his brows, smirk growing into a grin as she storms around the corner. “This is ridiculous, I have been here since five-thirty this morning, I should have been cut hours ago,” she’s grumbling more to herself than anyone, adjusting her apron and reaching for her server pad. “Relax, it’s just a two top,” Stan leans against the counter as he speaks, nodding his head over to where Bill is just barely sparking up a conversion with his date.
A heat spreads across (Y/n)’s face as she looks at the table and her chest feels like it might be burning too. “What the hell is he doing with her? After what she did to him?” Stan scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Like you aren’t seeing Victor in a few hours. Relax, it’s not like he’s planning to fuck her, I’m sure they’re just talking about what happened between them. You know, nothing serious.” The toe of her non-slip shoe comes in contact with his ankle as she passes him, squaring her shoulder’s back as she forces a smile. Stan finds himself laughing, reaching down to rub his ankle with amusement dancing on his features. Old habits truly do die screaming.
“Welcome to Timothy’s Diner, my name is (Y/n) and I’ll be your server today,” she smiles down at Bill, letting her hand fall lazily on top of his shoulder, “Could I get you started with a drink?” Greta’s eyes follow the other girl’s hand up to her face, her own nose scrunched and eyes squinted, “Shirley temple.” “Alright,” (Y/n) lets herself look back down at Bill, “And what about you, sir?” He quirks a brow at her, doing his best not to seem intrigued, “Oh, I think I remember the strawberry milkshakes here being the best in town.” (Y/n) nods, slowly dragging her hand down his bicep, “I’ve gotcha. You two keep looking over that menu and I will be right back with those drinks for you.” Her hips sway as she walks away, steps falling toe to heel as she makes her way across the floor.
Immediately the girl crosses to the milkshake blender, muttering something that Stan can’t quite catch under her breath. “I’m sorry, what was that?” She cuts the boy a glare, bending down to grab cherries and whipped cream from the fridge built into the counter. “You know it’s hard to have a conversation when you won’t speak up.” “Eat shit, Stanley.” He lets out another laugh, grabbing a glass and the grenadine to help her out.
“It’s just, why does he always do this?” “Do what?” “He always brings his dates here to my favorite table in the building. It’s like he’s mocking me for not being as pretty as them.” Stan swears his eyes have rolled so far back that he could see the back of their sockets. “You are so much like your brother sometimes that it hurts.” She huffs, turning to him with the milkshake on a tray, “What is that supposed to mean?” “You’re just, ya know,” he shrugs, setting the shirley temple on her tray for her, “You’re a little oblivious.” Her eyes rolls, turning away from him with yet another huff as she makes her way over to the table again. He doesn’t follow her, just watches as she fidgets with her pen cap, taking Greta’s order with a stoney face. It’s their old song and dance, Bill ordering and her cutting him off with the alterations she knows he’s planning to get. The boy smiling, looking at her as if he’s in disbelief that she can remember something that he’s done his whole life. Cozy, obviously so. It’s disrespectful to Greta, even as much as he hates the girl. Somewhere Stan knows that (Y/n) knows this, she has to. But she’s too blinded by her adoration of Bill to care. Not that it’s Stan’s business anyway.
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The losers started movie night when they were thirteen, it was sacred. And normally, it would be Bill’s favorite night of the week, but (Y/n) is all he can think about. She was supposed to be here by now, she promised she’d be here for the second movie of the night. But the beginning credits of Candyman are rolling on his living room TV and she’s still out with her man of the hour. Not that he has the right to complain, he knows that he doesn’t have the right to complain about her being on a date when he went on one the same day. It’s hard not to let broken promises lay on him though, especially when her favorite movie is playing on the screen. Picked for an absent presence. He’s wallowing in his own pity, movie night forgotten for a pity party of one.
Stan’s about to comment on it when the doorbell rings. Not once but this incessant sound that nearly makes the noise sound as if it’s jamming on itself. A groan comes from the whole room as Bill pauses the movie, clambering out of his seat with rolled eyes.
“Tell her that if she was driving drunk enough to be acting like that, I’ll kill her,” Richie grumbles, leaning his head back onto Eddie’s from where he’d startled up. “I’ll kill her myself for ringing the bell like that.” Regardless, he makes it to the door, snatching it open in a way that makes the hinges sing. “What?”
His chest tightens at the sight before him. Victor Criss himself is standing on Bill’s porch, an arm wrapped around (Y/n)’s waist as she hangs off his side, teetering softly from side to side as he attempts to hold her still. The noise startles her, (Y/n) jumping slightly as she turns to look at the door. “Billy, I was just talking about you,” it’s slurred, the girl drunker than he’d seen her in years. Eyes hazy and struggling to stay open as she smiles at him. “You sure were,” Victor nods to her, and though his tone is perky for her it’s laced with disappointment, “How about you go inside, huh?” He turns his attention back to Bill, “I believe that this belongs to you?”
Bill shakes his head, reaching out to grab her hands to steady her as she steps away from Victor and towards him. “She’s not-” “Can it, Denbrough. She is yours, she always has been. Just,” he sighs, shaking his head as he watches (Y/n) crash into Bill’s chest, “Take better care of her than I did.” “Why did you-” “She wouldn’t let me take her anywhere else. Said she owed you a movie?” Bill nods, smoothing a hand over (Y/n)’s shirt as she nuzzles against his neck, “Right. Thanks for bringing her.” The other boy doesn’t speak, just nodding as he walks away from the duo on the porch and back to his car.
(Y/n)’s voice sings Bill’s name from her spot against his neck, muttering something about how she missed him against the skin. He’s nodding, giving her a soft response as he considers what to do with her. She needed to sleep this off, he knew that. “Let me get Richie to take you home.” “No!” She pulls back, clinging to his shoulders for support as she shakes her head, “I wanna be with you.” A frown crosses his face, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her eyes, “You need sleep, (Y/n/n).” She whines, reaching up from his shoulder to cup his jaw, “Can’t I stay here with you?” By all accounts the answer should be no, but he can’t help it, not when she’s looking at him like that. “Fine, but you’re going to sleep.”
She cheers, leaning further against him as she mutters about loving him. “Upstairs, come on.” The girl nods, moving to cuddle against his side as his arm finds her waist, guiding her up the stairs to his bedroom. Bill tries not to think about the last time she was like this, wasted past the point of coherent and clinging to his side. But the night that they caught Greta and Victor together rings aggressively in his head. She’d slept in his bed that night too, going home with him because she couldn’t stand to be in the house. Tonight was different though, Victor had been protecting her, nothing like who he was then, and yet, she was still completely sloshed.
“Did he say something to you?” She shakes her head, stumbling slightly as they reach the landing of the stairs. Bill’s grip on her tightens, helping her into his room and onto his bed. He steps back, looking her over wordlessly before crossing to his dresser. “I get another shirt,” she giggles, falling back onto his bed, “Nice.” “You don’t get to keep this one,” he tosses it to her, turning on his heel, “I’m going to get something to take your makeup off. Change without falling over, please.”
When he’s back with some of his mom’s makeup wipes she’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, his shirt barely covering her lap as she looks at the posters on his wall. (Y/n)’s left her clothes strung across his floor, somehow making a bigger mess than he knew was possible with only three articles of clothing and a pair of keds. The boy’s movements are slow as he sits in front of her, cupping her jaw as he rubs the wipes on her face. “Hey Bill?” He hums, biting his lip as his focus falls to her eyeshadow. “I can get why it’s not me, but please don’t let it be her.” Brows furrowing, he shakes his head, “What?” “Greta, don’t let it be her. You’re too good for her,” She hums, pushing a strand of his hair back off of his forehead, “Too pretty for her too. You’ve always been so pretty. You’ve gotta love someone better than that.” He shakes his head, moving on to the other side of her face, “I’m not in love with Greta, (Y/n). I don’t think I ever was.” She nods, falling back as he finishes cleaning her up, “I just, I want you to be happy. I need you to be with someone, good. Someone as pretty as you. If they exist, I dunno. I think the heavens might have been inspired by your eyes.” He’s laughing softly, “Thanks for the advice, Tozier. I promise, it won’t be her.” She nods, rolling over onto her side as he pulls the blanket over her, “And if you can’t find someone as pretty as you, can it be me? I know I’m a little shit, but I do love you. Love you so much, and you’re so pretty.” Bill’s lip falls between his teeth, eyes locked on the tired face that stares up at him from his side of the bed.
“(Y/n)?” She hums, nuzzling against his pillow. “Don’t let it be Victor Criss, I can’t stand to see you give him my spot again.” She smiles, reaching out for him from the bed, “It’ll always be your spot. I’ve tried to give it away but they never fit.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, I really love you, Bill.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple, “We’ll talk about that in the morning, okay?” “When I’m sober?” “Yeah, when you’re sober.”
Hi! Can I request a Richie tozier x reader Imagine? Where Richie gets jealous of reader being around Bill a lot and shows it in the worst way possible
“Jealous Jealous Jealous boyyy..” Richie Tozier!Jealous x Reader!
okay bet
* You and Richie have been dating for a while, he truly loves you, clinging every second, taking you on the little trips with the losers, except there was one problem..
* He was jealous, like VERY jealous, even when Eddie slightly brushed against you, he made fun of Eddie the rest of the trip, some insults seeming a little.. too into it.
* You and the losers decided a day at the quarry would help cool you down under the blazing sun, you were excited.
* You arrive at the quarry, your new swimsuit hidden under your cute new outfit from the thrift shop down the road, “Y/N!” Richie shouts from under a tree with the losers, sitting on the big tree on the cliff over looking the lake. “Richie!” You yell back, waving as you walk over, hugging Richie and kissing him happily, then walking over to the other losers saying your “heys”, and “hellos”. Til you reach bill, instead of a high five, bill goes in for- a hug. You hug him, platonic of course.. you turn around to see Richie’s face, eyes burning with rage, scowl on his face. You don’t think much of it, you and the losers all get ready to get in the water- til Richie roughly grabs your arm and pulls you to the side. “Richie! Hey- what the hell!” Anger. Pure anger. “What the hell were you doing! Hugging bill! Acting oh all sweet when you’re practically cheating on me!!!” He barks out. “Richie it was one hug! Bill is like my brother- you’re being dramatic.” Was dramatic the right word? It would go unnoticed as the other losers begin to come near the commotion. “Guys- what’s going on?” Mike asks, glancing at the way Richie’s gripping your arm.. it burns, like fire against your skin. “Oh nothing Mikey, how about you go back to minding your business, lamb boy.” Uh oh. “Lamb boy? The hell does that mean. You trying to pick a fight Richie?” Bill cuts him off, stuttering “w-woah g-g-guys.. let’s rel-lax.. R-Richie what’s going o-on?” Richie barks again, like a wild dog. “YOU KNOW WHATS GOING ON! YOUR TRYING TO STEAL Y/N!” Richie lets go, lunging at bill, only to be grabbed by Stan and Bev. Bill steps back, intimidated. “R-Richie what are y-y-you talking about- Y/N’s my f-friend.” Richie yells in rage, thrashing in Stan’s grip “YOU HUGGED HER! MY Y/N- STUTTERING OVER THERE ALL SWEET! ILL KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT!!!” Everyone’s jaw drops at the threat.. “Richie what the hell..” you say, cutting through the silence.. Richie glances at you, looking at you, your terrified expression, his scowl softening as he stops trying to attack bill. “Y/N- no.. you don’t get it- this- he’s trying to steal you.” You feel the tears welling up, you were always emotional anyway. “You treating our friends like- this isn’t okay.. whenever they talk to me or touch me in the slightest..” Richie tries to gaslight you. “I didn’t even say anything that bad! You’re just- being emotional.” Emotional. Yeah. “Richie.. you threatened to knock out Bill’s teeth cause he touched Y/N..” Beverly mutters, shocked at his behavior as well. “Well- you guys didn’t see! He clings- he’s like- like a leech!” More insults hurled at bill, all wiped out by the disappointed looks on the losers faces. Richie breaks out of the hell grip of Bev and Bill, stumbling back and looking at everyone, before panicking and slowly stumbling back, speed walking through the woods- you don’t even try to call out, no sound. You glance to bill, his face pale with shock, eyes filled with hurt as he looks down, you all stand there, not knowing what to do.. beep beep Richie.
Summary: You had been pining after Bill for a while now, trying to keep your crush under wraps and not doing such a good job at it. Finally you can't bear the stolen glances and quick eye contact and you cave in to the urge to kiss him.
Warnings: swearing, implied underage drinking but none actually happening in the story, smooching and stuff
It had become a sort of ritual over the years.
Every Sunday, Bill would come to your family's house for dinner. It had happened the first time when Bill had mentioned to you that his parents hadn't had dinner together since they had lost Georgie. After a whole day of that fact gnawing at your conscience, you had called him up and invited him over to join you the next day. You tried to make it nonchalant, talking like your parents had come up with the idea or something, but the pause before his response had you thinking that maybe he knew. Still, a soft "okay" sounded through the phone and you broke out into a grin. After that it was every Sunday, even now that you were both 18 and ready to move to college.
"y/n! Bills here!" your little brother yelled out to you. A moment later, Bill was walking from the entryway to your kitchen/dining room with a small bunch of sunflowers in his hand. Your mother was first to greet him.
"Hi M-mrs, Y/L/N. I b-b-brought these for your table." Bill presented the flowers to her and she smiled appreciatively.
"you didn't have to do that," she said as she chopped up potatoes for the curry.
"Its n-nothing," he shrugged and smiled at her. You lifted yourself from the couch, leaving your siblings to watch the show on the TV.
"Hey," Bill smiled as you took the flowers from him and smiled back.
"was wondering when you would get here!" you called. You went to the kitchen to fetch a vase and filled it with water before setting it on the dining table. You smiled to yourself as you fussed carefully with the flowers, trying to spread them out evenly within the vase without ripping a pedal or breaking a stem.
"Yeah, s-s-sorry. Practice went long tod-day, I came as soon as I had a shower," His expression was pleasant as he watched you finish arranging the flowers with his hands resting on the back of a chair. A small blush rose to your cheeks as you were reminded of how perfect bill was.
He seemed to unknowingly prove it to you every time you and him or all the losers got together. How he always laughed at your jokes. How he did so well supporting the entire friend group, showing up to performances, games, or parties one of the losers was hosting/attending. Once he even came to your little sister's piano recital with a poster for her.
And he was a gentleman. He never stared when you and Bev were undressing to go swimming at the Quarry, even though sometimes you wished he was sneaking glances over at you in your underwear.
It almost agitated how flawless he was. If you hadn't known him for so long, you would have been suspicious of him, thinking maybe he had an angle or was just hiding his ugly personality really well.
But no, Bill was actually just perfect. And your crush, which you were constantly trying to snuff out, had only grown and grown.
You chatted for a while while your mom and dad finished up on dinner and he helped you set the table asking you thoughtful questions and making you laugh.
Finally all your siblings came to sit down and you began helping yourselves to a serving and digging in.
Your family was loud, with so many younger people in the house. Voices were shouting about every little thing. "ms.daily gave us dum dums at school today-", "Quit flicking your food at me or I'll shove your face into that rice and you'll-", "could someone please just pass me the salt!?"
You glanced over at Billy, slightly embarrassed even though he had seen this time and time again. You were grateful to see him laughing as your sisters threatened each other across the table.
The whole meal went by much the same way, Bill made sure to help clean up and thank and compliment your parents on the dish. Soon enough you grabbed his hand to sneak away while your siblings finished cleaning up and took him upstairs to your room where usually you played card games or listened to music. These moments were what you lived for. Something about the alone time with him was healing as well as exciting. Your heart always was going from a steady calm beat to a nervous fast thudding in your chest depending on how much bill was looking into your eyes or whether his hands were brushing against yours as you passed the cards to one another.
Tonight you did something different. You found yourself sitting criss cross on your bed, holding still as Bill drew you. He was just a few feet away, you could feel his warmth radiate off of him. His hair was all fluffed out and you fought the urge to smooth it out with your fingers. His eyes were shining from the twinkle lights you had hung up on the wall and the lamp on your nightstand. He was chewing his lip as he stared down at the drawing. Focused and calculated on where his pencil was touching the paper.
"s-s-stop, you keep turning y-your head!" he complained lightheartedly. Your eyes went wide, embarrassed that he had caught you staring. You laughed nervously, trying to hide it. Suddenly you felt his fingers on your jaw turning you back to where you had been, warm and gentle against your skin.
"b-better," he spoke softly. You blushed, harder than you probably ever had as you felt him draw back. Your skin tingled where his fingers had been and you felt your palms go sweaty, trying desperately to hide your crush that you felt was probably obvious to him by now.
"stay still, ok?" He laughed and you couldn't help but laugh too as you grimaced.
"yes, I'm sorry,"
"it's alright, I'm n-nearly done." He said. You heard him scribble beside you.
When he had asked to draw you you snorted. It took you a moment to realize he actually wanted to. That's when your heart rate picked up as it inevitably does. He was looking at you so earnestly and you felt butterflies in your stomach as he grabbed the pencil and notebook you had been using for homework earlier that day. He flipped to a new page and motioned for you to sit down, following after you and finding his spot on your bed. He laughed as you came up with a pose, flipping your hair around and smoldering. You felt your heart swell, the feeling you got when you made him laugh, never ever got old.
"no n-no no, do something nor-normal!" he had told you
"what? boo! that's boring" you argued laughing
"I want it t-to look like you do, like a c-candid. Just, I d-d-don't know! look out the w-window,"
you laughed and followed his directions turning your head to look outside at the darkening sky. Of course then you had drifted back to rest your eyes on him
And it was almost completely dark now that you had turned back to the window. You continued to think about Bill, your thoughts wandering to the couple times you had caught him looking over at you. Sometimes at group hang outs. You'd all be spread out in Mikes’ living room when his parents were gone, completely abandoning the movie playing on his TV to watch Eddie and Richie yell insults at each other instead. Nothing was more entertaining to you than those two. But while you were glancing between them both firing comebacks, you caught Bill's eye and checked a second time to make sure you hadn't been seeing things. It was then that he looked down at his hands in his lap and cleared his throat. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the butterflies awoke in your stomach. You looked down into your lap too, convincing yourself that it was just a coincidence.
But several times since then it had happened again. At the Quarry, after a couple hours of swimming and playing chicken, you were getting out and wrapping yourself in a towel. Your teeth chattered, waiting to warm up in the hot sun. You smiled at the losers who were laughing at you shivering. Stan came over and threw his towel over your head, rubbing it around to try and get some of the cold water out of your hair and when he pulled it off, of course your hair was left in a rat's nest, sticking out oddly every which way. The whole group burst into cackling and howling and you laughed along with them. Again your eyes caught Bill who was smiling at you fondly. Unlike the others who clearly thought you looked hilarious, it seemed as if he thought you looked adorable and you felt your cheeks burn at his gaze. This time you didn't wait for him to look away and did so yourself, patting your hair down with a small smile on your lips.
Once at a party you and Bev and Ben were dancing in the living room before you had even had any alcohol. Still you were going hard and you had started sweating being close to all these bodies. From the kitchen you had made short eye contact with Bill multiple times now. You wondered if you looked silly dancing so aggressively or maybe he was making sure you didn't get trampled by the sweaty people surrounding you. But still you felt your heart rate spike, feeling his attention on you that whole night.
And now you were snapping back into reality and realized you didn't hear his pencil scribbling anymore. You turned your head to look at him to see what was the matter only to find him staring at you already.
Your breath caught and your lips parted at the affectionate expression on his face. His eyes dropped to your lips briefly before he heard you suck in a small breath
He seemed to realize you were looking at him now with a start.
"y-you moved," he said, noting that you had broken your pose again
"you stopped drawing," you responded
He cleared his throat and looked down at his drawing. It could have been the lighting but you thought maybe you saw his ears go pink.
"yeah, well I f-f-finished" he told you.
"really? let me see!" you moved from criss cross to kneeling and craning your neck to get a peek at his drawing. He giggled at you and turned the notebook around revealing his masterpiece.
And masterpiece it was. Your jaw dropped as your eyes landed on an exact copy of your face. Except, not really. You noticed that Bill had taken the liberty of making you quite a bit prettier.
"Wow," you said in awe, "it's an amazing bill! holy shit!" you grabbed the notebook to look at it closer. His hand raised to scratch behind his ear as he smiled nervously.
"tha-anks,"
"Thank you, for making me super attractive!" you laughed and looked from the notebook to him. His eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened slightly.
"What d-d-do you mean?" he asked and looked at the drawing too, trying to see what you were seeing.
"Bill, you made me absolutely gorgeous in this," You rolled your eyes lightly and chuckled.
"n-no I didn't, you ju-just look like that,"
You let out a laugh before stumbling. You cleared your throat, trying to recover.
"you- come on... I mean..." you reasoned, motioning to the drawing. Your face in the picture was stunning. Your eyes sparkled and you had such a nice expression on your face. Your lips, the most detailed part of the whole sketch, looked delicate and elegant. He even added the few little freckles on your skin that you always forgot were there.
"Y-Y/N, I'm s-serious." your breath hitches at the intense look he's giving you.
"I- uhhh, well thank you I guess."
"y-you d-d-dont believe it?" He asked, pulling the drawing from your hands and setting it aside. You followed his actions, nervous and confused.
"not really no," you grimace-smiled at him trying to laugh off your nerves. Your throat went dry as his knees touched yours realizing how near he was suddenly and confusion surfaced in your mind cause you couldn't remember him moving closer. Your heart hammered in your chest and you could feel it throughout your entire body.
"Y/N, you're th-the p-p-prettiest girl I've e-ever seen." He said, his head tilting down just slightly and he looked at you through his lashes, doing his best to look as sincere as he was. You opened your mouth to speak but were not sure what to say so you just watched what he did. He was looking at you in the soft lighting and you chewed your lip because his lips suddenly looked so soft.
You couldn't stop yourself as you moved closer to him, eyes flitting across his face trying to gauge his reaction before you committed fully. A flash of shock washed over his face but was gone in a moment as if it wasn't ever there and in the next second his lips were on yours.
They were soft, softer than you thought. And they moved against yours stiffly at first until it melted into something much more natural and you let out a breath you hadnt meant to hold. Your hands went up and thumbs came to stroke his cheekbones, suddenly realizing that he was letting you touch and kiss him and taking full advantage. You sat up to get better leverage and deepened the kiss causing a soft groan to sound from his throat. Your head spun as his hands came to your waist and pulled you closer. Hot breaths mixed in the air and you felt your mind fogging more and more as the kiss intensified. Your hands slipped to his hair and your fingers ran through the short strands near the nape of his neck. He took his turn then to sit up, his knees slotting around each of yours and pulled as much of you as he could until you were flush against him. You could feel his heart thudding in his own chest and one hand came to clutch at his tee-shirt trying to touch him as much as possible.
You could not believe what was happening. Bill was kissing you, and dammit he was a good kisser. You felt yourself reeling a little too hard so you pulled away to catch your breath. Bill's lips chased yours briefly before his hands slid to your hips and he let out his own shaky breath and rested his head on your shoulder. You breathed hard trying to ground yourself for a little while. Soon enough Bill sat up and looked you in the eyes again.
“I like y-you so b-bad,” He confessed sweetly, looking nervous again. His hair was all ruffled from your kiss and this time you went ahead and ran your hands through it to flatten it out. His eyelids fluttered at your touch but stayed open and on your face, watching you carefully.
“Thank god,” you smiled, acting like you hadn't been nearing a panic attack just a second ago. “I really like you too, if that isn't obvious”
Bill chuckled and took your hands in his pulling you close for another intense kiss.
After that Sunday dinners became more than just Sunday dinners but after school study sessions, picnics, walks around the neighborhood, all ending in heated makeout sessions and swollen lipped grins.
Description: Y/N was at her front porch, when she saw Bill denbrough riding his bike "Silver" on the road.
Word count: 824
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Maturity - 2/10
Warnings - none
Request - Open
Masterlist: Losers club
🎼 Currently playing - Hey Lover| The Daughters Of Eve
『"Hey,hey, hey lover. I love you just the way you are"』
[ ───────── 🔦 ───────── ]
The air in Derry always felt a little too thick, like you were breathing in water instead of oxygen. You sat on your front porch, watching a boy with messy brown hair pedaling his bike "Silver" down the street. It was "Bill Denbrough", he was known and bullied at school for his stutter
He lived just a few houses down, and even though you’d lived here all your life, you usually only waved from a distance. Suddenly, the chain on his bike let out a nasty clack, and Bill wobbled, barely managed to plant his feet on the pavement before the bike tipped over.
"You okay?" you called out, hopping off your porch and running over to bill .Bill looked up, his face flushing a light pink. "Y-y-yeah. Fine. Just the ch-chain."He knelt down, his fingers fumbling with the greasy metal. You crouched next to him, and your fingers brushed against his hand as you gripped the pedal to help.
Bill jumped slightly at the touch, his eyes meeting yours.They were a soft,intense,green, "Th-thanks, Y/N," he murmured. He managed to hook the chain back into place, wiping his greasy palms on his jeans.
He looked at the empty spot on the back of his bike, then back at you. "D-do you want to go to the park? I can d-double the speed. If you aren't sc-scared of my driving."You laughed. "I think I can handle it, Bill."You hopped onto the back, gripping his waist for balance.
As he started to pedal, the wind began whipping through your hair. Bill glanced back over his shoulder, a look of pure pride crossing his face. "S-s-she’s fast, isn't she?" he shouted over the rushing air."She really is!" you called back.
"This is S-s-silver," Bill said, patting the handlebars affectionately. "I call her that because she’s like a f-f-flash of lightning. If you b-b-believe she’s fast... she r-really is."He stood up on the pedals, putting all his weight into it.
"W-watch this! Hi-ho Silver away!"The bike surged forward, and for a second, it felt like your feet weren't even touching the ground anymore. Bill’s laughter was quiet but genuine, and you leaned your head against his back, enjoying the way the world seemed to melt away whenever Silver picked up speed.
The wind finally slowed down as Bill steered Silver onto the smooth path of the park. He brought the bike to a stop near a big tree and let out a long breath."We made it," he said, wiping some sweat from his forehead.
He looked at you and smiled. "You're a g-g-good passenger, Y/N."You hopped off the back and stretched your legs. "And you're a fast driver! I really thought we were going to fly away back there."Bill laughed and leaned his bike against the tree.
He looked around the park. It was very quiet, with only the sound of the wind in the leaves. He led you over to a wooden bench near the pond."I l-l-like it here," Bill whispered, sitting down. "It’s quiet. You can actually h-h-hear yourself think."He looked at his hands, which were still a little dark from the greasy bike chain.
He seemed a bit nervous to be sitting so close to you, but he didn't move away. For a moment, the scary feeling of the town felt far away. It was just a boy, a girl, and a silver bike under the afternoon sun.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small pack of tissues you’d tucked away earlier. "Here," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get grease off before it ruins your jeans."Bill froze for a second, his breath hitching as you began to rub the dark stains from his skin. His hands were warm and a little rough from working on his bike, but he didn't pull away.
He watched you intently, his green eyes following every movement of your fingers."Y-y-you didn't have to do that," he murmured, though he didn't look like he wanted you to stop. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You're r-really nice, Y/N,"
"Most people in this town... they just l-look the other way."As the last of the black grease faded, he turned his palm over, lightly squeezing your hand in a silent thank you. The quiet of the park felt peaceful now, rather than lonely.
The sun began to dip low, casting long, orange shadows across the grass. Bill walked you back to your porch, wheeling Silver slowly beside him.He stopped at the bottom step and looked up at you, still holding your hand for one last second before letting go. "I had a g-g-good time today, [Y/N]. R-really."
He hopped onto his bike and gave the handlebars a confident pat. "S-silver and I will see you tomorrow?"You smiled and nodded. "Count on it, Bill." "Hi-ho Silver away!" he shouted As he picked up speed, the bike made a low, steady whirring sound. You watched him go, the tires making a light hum against the road until he was just a flash of light disappearing around the corner.
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A/n - this is my favourite one yet, kinda struggled writing bill's stuttering
887 words a small one since I wanted to write something after rewatching it
I'd always known bill had a stutter ever since we were little kids he had one bug I really didn't mind it. it's not like he can really do anything about it so I don't know why people make fun of him all the time.
he asked me to come over and help him say sentences and shit?.. I don't know but as his girlfriend I guess it's my duty.
I really didn't mind since I would be with him anyway. we spend like every living second together, and we always had but the only difference now is the relationship.
"bill!!" no response. I heard his mom yell something about him being in his room from the kitchen though so I just decided to go up.
as I walk to his room I can hear his faint voice from inside it trying to pronounce sentences without stuttering.
wasn't going so great.
"he t-thrusts his fist againsts the p-posts- dammit!" I opened the door and smiled at him as I came into view by the doorway.
"I was calling you! your lucky your mom said something or I would've left" I know I wouldn't have but I just said it to get my point across.
I went over to sit on his bed as well closing the door behind me with my foot, I plopped down next to him.
"sorry y/n I'm d-doing something." I look down at the little flash card he has in his lap and read it to myself in my mind before reading it out loud.
“He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts?" I mumble out confused and then remembered why I'm here in the first place.
"does this really help?" I ask taking the card out his lap and holding it up. "that sounded mean but I'm just wondering" flipping over the card to see nothing on the back before flipping it back over and handing it to bill.
"I d-dont really know I try it b-because my mom told me a-about it." he says before crumbling up the paper and aiming it towards the trash.
"hey no bill I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything if you want to practice it then we can practice it." I sprung up from the bed and walked over to grab the piece of paper once again.
"it's stupid I w-wish I never had this s-stutter" I could tell it was dissapointing for him as I got up and saw him leaned back, laying on his bed now.
I walked over a laid beside him slightly pushing him so I could get space as he got the memo quickly and moved over himself.
even though he wasn't turned to me I turned towards him and started talking again "I think your stutter is cute. it doesn't bother me or anyone else so it shouldn't matter but I know you can't help the way you feel."
he turned over and gave a light smile with a slight tint forming on his cheeks "I'm f-fine with it m-most of the time. just when bowers and his g-gang say stuff."
"yeah I can get that." I added lastly before it went silent for a couple seconds as we just stared at eachother.
"bill bill!" we hear a little voice from outside the door come in and I realize it's georgie coming In all excited.
he saw us on the bed and bill groaned before sitting up "what's w-wrong georgie?" he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.
"hiya georgie." sending a little wave and smile I greet him with a more happy tone than his brother has.
"oh. sorry bill" he said sheepishly standing there with one leg behind his other and his head slightly pointed down.
"and hi y/n!" this time with a more excited tone much like before.
"I a-always tell you to k-knock!"
"be nice bill" I say flipping over so I'm sitting next to him on the bed and slapping his shoulder lightly at his tone.
"I just wanted to see if you could play" he sounded like he had a more saddening tone to his voice but I smiled at his words.
"it's alright georgie can I play?" I ask happily trying to get him to cheer up maybe if he hears my cheerful tone.
"your g-gonna ditch me y/n?" I hear bill say but I pay no mind to it as I see georgie smile in excitement.
"yes yes! of course you can!" "let's go then yeah?" I reply back and I see him nod happily.
I turn back to bill and kiss his cheek before grabbing georgies hand. "let's go!"
we run off and I hear another groan behind me and I look back to see bill getting up and trying to catch up to us.
"don't be such a debbie downer!"
hello everyone JUST pretend that georgie is alive and well cuz I thought he was the cutest little brother
