summary: henry had another argument with his father, now he seeks comfort in his girlfriends arms
༺☆༻
as you stepped out of the bathroom, clothed into your pyjamas which was only pink panties and henry's t-shirt he once gave you, ready to lay down to your bed and get some rest; as soon as you opened the door to your dark room, you felt light breeze of a fresh air hit your bare legs.
that was unexpected. you thought you had your windows closed, so you hit the light and saw henry, your boyfriend, sitting on your bed while looking down on his lap. he had few cuts on his face and ugly bruise under his right eye.
his father. you thought. it was obvious, he had another fight with his father and by that bruise you assumed it was bad.
"hold on." you said as you turned on your heel and went back to the bathroom for first aid kid.
henry didn't say anything. he wasn't a big talker so he didn't tell you much about fights with his father, but he's always safe with you and he knows it. that's why he's here so late at night.
you were back in a minute, but you locked the door this time. it was unnecessary? maybe. but it made henry feel more comfortable.
you squated in front of him with a with a piece of cotton wool and disinfectant. "it will sting a little." you warned calmy with a slight frown on your face.
but henry didn't moved a muscled, his gaze just moved from his lap to your eyes. after few seconds of staring into each others eyes, you slightly tapped on his cuts with that cotton wool.
his eyebrows twitched two times but then he got used to it. "can i stay the night?" he asked.
you slightly smiled at him as you were done with cleaning his wounds. you stood up, cupped his face into your palms and kissed his lips. he didn't waist a second and kissed you back with passion. few more seconds and you broke the kiss to answer him. "of course."
henry's hands then snaked around your waist while he slowly leaned down on the bed, taking you with him. as you two made yourself comfortable in bed, his grip around your waist got tighter. so you can breath but cannot escape or be taken away. he protects you from others just like you protected him from his father.
after extra few seconds, you broke the silence "you wanna talk about it?"
"not really" he answered almost immediately.
you expected this answer but it was fine. at least he was safe now and you were willing to give him all the time he needed before he confide to you.
"but i don't wanna think about it when i'm with you. when i'm with you i think only about you." he continued.
that caught you off guard. don't get me wrong, henry was a loving boyfriend. he showed you that he loved you, he did not tell you tho because he's not good with his words.
it was rare that he used his words but every time he did, it melted your heart. even tho he wasn't good with words, he always said the right thing.
"tell me how was your day, doll." he finished with a slight smile.
oh how you loved when he smiled, because this smile was special. this was sincere smile that was only meant for you.
so you started yapping about your day. how you had your morning tea, after that a pilates class. also how you went with your friend into the mall where you bought new lipgloss.
henry on the other hand watched your lips moved and your face features that changed every second when you change the theme. he listened to every word you said and felt every move you took when you ran your fingers through his hair. but it was too much on him.
he was already tired and your soothing voice with those nails stroking through his hair just lulled him to sleep.
you were talking for five more minutes when you noticed his calm breaths and closed eyes. but his grip around your waist didn't loosen.
you smiled. he was so handsome when he was relaxed. you gently kissed his forehead before closing your eyes as well. slowly drifting to sleep with him.
PAIRING: Bill Denbrough x Reader x Stanley Uris (Poly Relationship)
SUMMARY: Unfortunately, the return of Pennywise brought the loss of one of the loves of your life.
GENRE: Mostly Angst, fluff (if you squint)
WARNINGS: Suicide, death, mentions of blood and vomit.
WORD COUNT: 2.1k words
“Mr. Denbrough?” Bill didn’t notice who was calling. He was able to hear the faint commotion coming from his phone. It wasn’t you or Stan.
“Yes, it’s me.” He was a little bit irritated since he had been interrupted. He had a deadline, and as he looked at his computer screen, he noticed that nothing had been done in the past hour. He sighed.
“We’re reaching out to you regarding your wife-”
“Is she ok? What happened? Where is she?” Bill went instantly into panic mode.
“Mr. Denbrough, please calm down. She’s okay. We just want to notify you that she, well, at your house, there has been—” Bill didn’t even let the person on the other side finish when he quickly stood up, grabbed his jacket, and left his office.
He’s been having this unsettling feeling in the bottom of his stomach all day long. At first, he tried to brush it off, knowing you and Stan were fine, both of you saying your goodbyes as always, but now… And don’t even get him started with Mike’s call in the evening. Do you know? Maybe something happened when you heard the news of It’s comeback.
As Bill approached your shared home, he could see the ambulances and police cars outside your residence. Feeling his heart race, he really didn’t know what to expect from what was unfolding in front of him. Did you get injured? Did something happen to Stan? No, no time for overthinking, he thought. Priorities.
When Bill stepped onto your lawn, he could see you sitting down on your porch steps. He quickly passed the officers who were there. As he came closer to you, he was able to see your hands and clothes, all covered in blood.
“Holy shit, angel, what happened? Are you ok?” Bill knelt right in front of you, but you were unresponsive. Your eyes weren’t even looking at Bill. They seemed lost, without any spark whatsoever.
Bill started to shake your body in order to get a reaction from you, but nothing came of it. As he continued to shake you, he was able to notice that the blood that was on your body wasn’t yours at all. You didn’t seem to be hurt. “What happened? Please, Y/n, where’s Stan?”
For the first time during that evening, for the first time since the police and ambulance arrived, you reacted. You turned your head to Bill, and that’s when reality hit you like a punch right in the face. Stan, your Stan was gone.
“He… He is… I cannot believe it happened like I was right here. I should’ve known better, I-” As you started to ramble, Bill was able to see far away in an ambulance what appeared to be a bag that’s used to transport bodies. His heart fell to the bottom of his stomach.
“He never locks the door. I should’ve known something was up,” you kept saying. However, no emotion was seen on your face. It was like you were in auto-pilot mode as if you were just repeating something that had been going through your mind.
A lump was forming on Bill’s throat. First, he has to get you to react. Hell, he would even appreciate it if you shouted and broke everything in your sight.
“Hey, Y/n, please, look at me. Just look at me.” Bill grabbed your cheeks with both of his hands, trying to make you look only at him. For a moment, you stayed in silence, and your phone rang.
You didn’t even dare move. Bill took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. His heart stopped after he saw the area code and phone number—the same phone number that called him that same evening.
“Hi Mike.”
“Bill?” Mike’s voice sounded a little bit surprised—just a little bit. “I thought this was Y/n’s phone number,” Bill sighed.
“It is. She’s not here right now.” Bill really couldn’t explain your state to Mike through the phone.
“Well, you already know why I’m calling. We will be waiting for you two then.” After confirming with Mike that the two of you were going to return to Derry, Bill hung up, and still, there was no reaction from you.
“Mr. Denbrough?” a police officer came closer to him.
“Yes, that’s me. Do you know what happened?” In the corner of his eye, Bill tried to see if you finally reacted, but nothing.
“By any chance, do you know Stanley Uris?” Bill nodded. If his brain wasn’t wrong, and if he isn’t that dumb, he may know what happened, but he really wishes he was wrong. “You wife, ahm, is he a friend?” Bill tried his best to remain calm. He just wanted to know if his suspicion was correct or not. He didn’t have time to explain how the relationship between the three of you worked.
“It’s hard to explain if I’m honest, but yes, Stan… Stanley, he’s close to us.” the officer only nodded, trying to not be nosy and trying his best to give the news to Bill.
“Well, we received a call from your wife. Mr. Uris locked himself in the bathroom, and your wife, when she was able to enter the room, saw him in the bathtub. He… He committed suicide. Your wife found him.” tears started to fall down Bill’s cheeks. He tried his best to maintain his composure. Bill tried to answer the officer, but nothing came out. It was as if when he tried to speak, a brutal scream would come out. His best friend since childhood, a fundamental part of this special thing they had with you, was gone. He could only nod.
The officer tried to give his condolences, but he just left.
Bill stayed there, standing in front of you. He started playing with your hair, trying his best to keep you at least calm. He wasn’t even sure if you could feel his touch; it was as if you had frozen in time. But he tried his best to feel you, to make sure you knew he was there with you, that you weren’t alone anymore. He understood your state now. Finding Stan must have been horrible and brutal.
As the minutes passed, people started leaving the area. The officers, the doctors on site, the nosy neighbors, and the passers-by. The two of you remained in that same spot, not really moving, trying to escape the reality you were living.
When the last police car left your house, Bill tried his best to get you to react, but you still seemed so lost. He wanted to get inside. However, a big part would be missing if you entered the house.
“Do you want to get in?” Bill asked, and you only nodded. Even if Stan wasn’t going to be there anymore, it was the last place he was with you.
Bill picked you up in bridal style. He knew it was the best way to get inside quickly. He didn’t need to open the door since it was left open by the last officer who was at your house. He sat you on your living room couch and returned to close the front door. The silence was unsettling. This house has never been this silent. It was always filled with the faint sound of music that you loved to leave in the background as Stan was cooking or as the two of you were reading books. There was also the sound of Bill typing on his computer while you and Stan talked about your day, wanting to include Bill in whatever you could. The laughs you would let out whenever Bill and Stan wanted to get your attention with their silly jokes and remarks. And the list could go on and on. But now, it was dead silent.
Bill sat at the coffee table in front of you. And that’s when he could finally see you cry. Not that Bill liked the view of your crying, but you were now reacting, something that at least made him feel that you came back to this reality.
“I’m so sorry, Bill,” you whispered. Bill’s heart shattered into a million pieces.
“No, hey, listen to me, Y/n.” Bill quickly grabbed your cheek with one hand while the other grabbed your left arm. “Why are you apologizing, angel?”
“He… He told me he was going to take a bath. He was acting weird. I really didn’t want to bother him. I thought that maybe if I let him and gave him space, he would later tell us what happened. But as the minutes passed, I got more anxious.” You let out a cry. Both of Bill’s hands were now cleaning all the tears that were rolling down. Bill also started crying, but he was trying his best to be silent so you could continue explaining what happened.
“I should’ve known better. He sounded weird… His voice was haunted Bill. I cannot explain it. But Stan, it was like he saw a ghost.” Bill gulped. He knew what made Stan do what he did. And to be honest? He couldn’t really blame him. He remembered how Pennywise scared Stan the most. Even if all of the losers made it out alive, Stan was never really the same.
It was like all the memories were coming back at him like flashes one by one. He couldn’t really understand how he forgot all those memories of that summer. It was as if his brain was playing tricks.
How can someone live with the two people who also experienced such an important and a little bit traumatic event when the three of you were 13 years old and then just forget about everything? Bill knew it wasn’t the best moment to bring this up, but you need to know all the context. At least you will then understand what happened.
“I received a call today, too. I believe it was from the same person that called Stan, and that same person also called you.”
“What?” Bill knew there was no good way to tell you the news.
“Do you remember our childhood? Specifically when we were thirteen?” you frowned. What does this have to do with Stan?
“I…” When you actually tried to recall that year, you couldn’t, as if all those memories were wiped out from your brain. “I don’t…”
“Mike called. Mike Hanlon. It’s back.” Fuck.
Bill saw your face slowly turn into horror. You quickly stood up and made your way to the kitchen sink, holding what you felt was what you had eaten that day. You finally understood. It was as if your body needed a way to get out all the fear, anxiety, and sadness you had experienced for the last hours. As you cleaned the corners of your mouth with water, you felt Bill coming closer, and he gave you a towel to dry yourself.
“Please tell me this is a sick joke, Bill.” Bill shook his head. That fucking clown. “But I don’t get it. When did Mike call me?” Bill handed you your phone. You didn’t even notice when he took it, but you couldn’t care less. It took something from you, It took something from Bill again. It’s not fair. “I don’t want to go back, Bill. I can’t.” your whole body plumbed to the kitchen floor. He sat next to you.
“We…” Bill knew the following words coming out of his mouth weren’t the best for you to hear right now, not after losing Stan. “We made a promise. We have to.” You were covering your face with your hands after hearing Bill. Tears continue falling down your face. You knew he was right. You knew that, maybe, you were the only people in the entire world who could stop Pennywise for good. But how could you actually do it? You barely made it out alive 27 years ago. What made you think this time would be different? You haven’t even returned to Derry, and you’ve already lost one of you.
“I know Bill, but-”
“We have to stop him. If we don’t do it, more people are going to keep disappearing, more people are going to live what we have gone through.”
“Bill, to be honest, I couldn’t care less. He took Stan, he took Georgie, what if he takes one of our friends, or worse, you?” you were starting to get anxious. You cannot lose Bill, too.
“That’s why we must return to Derry, Y/n.” Bill hugged you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. “For Stan, and for… Georgie.” Bill felt a knot in his throat. He wouldn’t lie, he was shitting bricks. He was scared, but his anger and thirst for justice - more like vengeance, were more significant.
“You cannot die, Bill. I can’t lose you. I don’t think I could handle another loss.” Bill sighed.
“I promise I won’t die. I won’t leave you, my angel.”
Hello! My name is Thérèse 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
-nothing yet :(
RICHIE TOZIER
-nothing yet :(
EDDIE KASPBRAK
-nothing yet :(
STANLEY URIS
-nothing yet :(
MIKE HANLON
-nothing yet :(
BEN HANSCOM
-nothing yet :(
BEVERLY MARSH
-nothing yet :(
HENRY BOWERS
-nothing yet :(
PATRICK HOCKSTETTER
-Infatuated (Patrick x Fem!Reader) (part 1?)
REGINALD "BELCH" HUGGINS
-nothing yet :(
VICTOR CRISS
-nothing yet :(
This masterlist along with my others will be updated any time a new fic is dropped or in the process of being worked on.
This is my official masterlist for It characters. I write for all the characters listed as well as others if it is requested. I will also write for their actors. For additional information, please refer to the post linked below.
Hi! My name is Cooper and I am hoping to be a writer one day so I thought what better way of starting off than by writing about my favorite
This masterlist along with my others will be updated everytime a new story/fic is written or in the works of being written.
summary: henry bowers roughs y/n up, and richie wont stand for it. but he will sit, and get stroked off, however.
wordcount: 1.9k
you hit the pavement like a sack of shit. you saw red gushing from your legs, not entirely sure where the source was. before you could get up, you received a swift kick in the abdomen. you held the rest of your external organs in agony, the ground was cold and unforgiving. two grimy hands pinned yours to the ground, his face was inches away from yours, and his breath smelled like a fucking dog treat.
“had enough?” henry spat, his eyes as black as his soul scanning down your tarnished clothes. “always a good time, thanks bowers” fuck - another punt to your gut.
you moved here in july, about a month and a half before the starting of school, you had made a few friends, and due to your associations, you became a prime target of bowers and his gang. where you came from, a man would never lay a hand on a women, i guess here’s it’s different.
henry left a few more bruises, but soon got bored after you stopped making noise. he left you on the cement numb, probably the worst he’d ever gotten you. you laid there for a bit, until gained the dignity to stand up. you picked up your bike, feet away from the scene of the beating, and rode up, your new jeans ripped. moms going to kill you.
you tucked your bike between your house and your garage, behind you bike tires scuffed against the side walk.
“what the hell happened to you?” eddie screeched, he dropped to his knees to assess your wounds. “yeah raggedy ann, you fucked your shut up?” richie chuckled, bill shot richie a knowing glare, as well as a hardy nudge in the ribs. it clicked in his head “fuuuck tuts, bowers did this?” “n-no i just fell into a bush.” they all knew better of course, but kept quiet.
they waited in your basement as you showered off the blood and dirt. the hot water stung the open cuts, and the soap caused you to hiss. you put on an over sized sweater, and some cotton shorts. you walked down the wooden basement stairs to the boys, their faces shot toward you, you saw beverly was there too, she probably came during your shower.
it was eerily quiet as you popped a vcr into your 22 inch tv. you sat back into the love seat with richie as the movie began to play. you felt richies rose brush against the back of your damp hair, he loves the smell of your conditioner.
you loved your group of friends, richie the most though. he was funny, cunning, a bit of an ass, but he could be so sweet when he wanted. not to mention he was stupid hot. i mean obviously you liked him, he checked all the boxes, plus he was almost as badass as you.
the movie was alright, well you think- you weren’t too sure because rich was whispering the funniest shit in your ear the whole time. normally, your friends would be annoyed with the banter between you two- especially during a movie- but this time was an exception , they were glad to see you laughing after today’s events.
it was around 11 at night, everyone left at around the same time. richie lingered, “wanna smoke a ‘borough?” you began to walk down your side walk with him.
the small flame on his lighter made his face glow, the dips on his face accentuated. smoking kills yeah, but richie made it look worth dying for. the way the smoke left his lips made your knees weak, he offered you a hit. the nicotine coursed quickly through your bloodstream, the buzz instantly making you giggle. you’d grown to like the smell, since richie smelt like a cigarette butt(and musk, not that you noticed.) you walked down your street, richie leading his bike to the right.
the comfortable silence mixed with the sounds of the crickets as you walk him to the stop sign. it’s always the same, he gives a half tempted wave, you pull him into a side hug, and he rides his to the street, and looks back until you walk back to your house. as you watch him ride off, you study his figure. his lanky legs pump his cherry bike down this dark road, his untamed hair twirling in the currents of the air. you tried effortlessly to look at the logo on the back of his shirt, however his muscles were practically screaming your name.
as you laid in your bed, you tossed and turned trying to fall asleep. there was something in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. it etched itself between you and a decent amount of sleep.
you walked to your classes the next morning exhausted, your body ached, and the bags under your eyes carried the weight of the world. you came up to your locker to switch out your books, richie was leaning against it. you let your head tip down so it was resting on his chest, you could have fallen asleep then and there.
"hey sweetness, tired?" "extremely" you croaked. he rubbed your back and let you get in your locker. "you, me, after school yea? we can watch a movie, can do your homework for ya?" you chortled and shoved him lightly "im not letting you anywhere near my homework richie toizer" "fair, fair" he agreed.
at precisely 2:45 pm, you both were in your basement, watching old gidget flicks. "I've decided, you are not to be alone anymore, i dont want bowers to ever lay a hand on you ever again." you laughed at him, but he had his mind made up. "not even when i pee?" "nope" "how about when i fart?" "girls FAR-?" "shut up rich!" you both had a giggle fit. "not even when i sleep?" "not even when you sleep" "not even when i please myself?" richies face grew crimson. you tired to get him to brush it off as a joke, thats how you saw it anyway. but it was so much different for him.
trashmouth is far from the perfect human being, he can be an absolute creep at times. but he tried his best when it came to you, not to think of you as some sexual object. you were his bestfriend, his right hand man, and he couldnt deal with the emotions that came if it were more then that.
as you doze off on your love seat in the basement, richie is pent up. he watches the rise and fall of your chest, he stares too long at the gap between your bare chest and shirt. he looks down at your thighs, and the mystery that lies between them. he watches your lips part as you breath lightly from sleep, the lips he so badly wanted to kiss, to bite, to feel.
his mind was racing with thoughts, thoughts he didnt dare to have before, thoughts that made him look at you differently. obvisouly - hes thought about you in that way, but each time he did, he'd feel disgusted and purged his mind of those ideas. this time however, he had to deal with his emotions a different way. and when you woke up, he was already gone.
you checked the clock, it was only 3:50, he'd only been over an hour. you hoped on your bike, you needed to know if he was at least ok. being the classic over thinker you are, you assumed the worst.
when you got to his place, no cars were there, just richies cherry bike laying on the grass. you knocked on the door, no answer. you let yourself in, you knew the password to his keypad. "richie?" you called, no response. you ran up to his room "richie are you ok?" "y/n" he moaned loudly in the other room. "oh fuck" you huffed as you opened the door, prepared for blood or projectile vomit. you swung open the door, and there was richie, member in hand, shirtless, sitting on a chair. you stared for a good ten seconds, and he stared back.
"y/n get the hell OUT!" richie was mortified. you on the other hand, had butterflies to the end of your toes. you had a gut feeling that maybe maybe, this could be something really good.
"richie close your eyes" "y/n dammit i said g-" "close your eyes rich!" you yelled. his face was red, but he closed his dark eyes. you walked over to the chair, and sat on your knees.
"listen y/n, im sorry this is so fucking embar- s-ssHIT Y/N" he moaned, his head falling back. you stroked him slowly with your hand. "y-you dont have to" he opened his to look down at you "but i want to" you replied. you stroked his cock gently, teasing him enough to make him beg for more. "your hand feels so fucking good" he groaned, he bit down on his lip as he tried not to thrust into your hand. "youre really big rich" you said shyly, turning your head away a bit, "i thought you'd never say" "shut up, rich!"
he grabbed your wrist mid stroke, and coxed you up onto his lap "the only way i can get off is if you do too." you straddled his lap, his digits made their way from your pant liner to your soaked core. "so wet for me huh? arent you?" he teased, his index finger circling your hole. "so wet you you rich, you blushed, beginning to rub his length once more.
he stuck his middle and ring finger deep into you, the feeling made your eyes water. he made you make sounds you never knew you could. each curl of his fingers going deeper into you. as you whimper and melt into his touch, richie is far too busy licking faint lines down your neck.
your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your eyes rolling back as your legs convulsed. richie watched in bliss, his mind was over-saturated with you, this was something he could only think up in a wet dream. he kissed your forehead as you rode out your orgasm. quickly, you got back to work on him, not long before he finished just as you did.
you sat their silently in the chair richies long arms draped around your sides. his slender hands traced the curve of your face, he was taking in every inch of you. his smelled radiated off him, the sweaty look sure did suit him.
"uh y/n" "yeah rich?" "your one hellova hook up heh." he actually laughed to himself. you laughed too, richie was god awful at expressing his feelings. "yeah toizer, not a bad one timer yourself" you teased as you put back on your clothes. "yeah i guess so- one timer?! this was only a one time ordeal? your pulling my leg y/n!" "i dont do casual hookups rich, thats just not who i am" you left his room, the boy was flabbergasted. you picked up your bike off his lawn, before you left, he yelled: "ok and what if i was your boyfriend, then could we do this again?" you moved your head pretending to contemplate. "maybe"
"maybe?!"
"yeah, maybe."
you road the main street back to your house, with a huge smirk on your face.
along the rocks eddie is trying to teach richie how to draw cars but richie keeps grabbing stones from the water to skip and is getting the papers all wet
stan steals a piece of paper from eddie’s sketchbook to draw some sparrows
beverly is resting her head in ben’s lap while mike reads them poetry
Request: can u do a fluffy imagine for 2017 stan? like where the reader and stan are already dating and maybe just cuddling or something fluffy? thanks if u can get to it ❤️
I feel like I owe this to you guys after my last Stanley imagine XD
Note: I’ve aged Stanley up to around 18 for this imagine!!
Comments are always appreciated!
You wake up in the grassy field, only feeling a sense of bliss washing over you.
Dots of fragrant daisies wave up at you like small suns, their white petals fluttering in the light breeze that caresses over your sleep crusted eyes. You blink away a little purple butterfly that flits around the grass and floats over your eyes, blinking up at the clouds that bounce like little boats along the deep blue, basking in the yellow rays.
For a moment, you forgot Stan was a separate person. His arm was so tucked in against yours, his blue checked shirt and brown trousers so close to you it felt as if you were one. He was holding your hand in his right one, tight up under the tip of his chin and against the steady beat of his heart, his curls rustling slightly as the breeze picks up again. He gripped onto your fingertips, something in his heart not wanting him to let go - it was as if something awful would happen if he did. He didn’t question it, though.
He just knew that this was what love felt like.
In his left hand, he held a little buttercup in his fingertips, twizzling it with a look of utmost concentration, intrigued by this delicate bloom. It’s stem was the hue of spring grass, and it’s beautiful golden petals as thin as the air, bestowing an unearthly glow onto his doe eyes as he turned to look at you.
‘Good morning, buttercup.’
He smirks slightly as you thump your forehead onto his shoulder.
‘How long have I been asleep for?’
‘About two hours.’
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘Why would I? It was cozy. Go back to sleep, and I’ll read to you. We have all the time in the world now.’
He reached down to pick up the little book of birds that lay abandoned on his lap, the pages of the book fluttering in the breeze, oblivious to the sounds of Stan’s singing speaking voice.
‘Cardinals like to cover themselves in ants-’
You knew the book was Stan’s favourite; the one he could read over and over and over again, and he obviously had. Those creased pages within the soft green cover were folded down and rustic looking at this point, but you could listen to him speak all day.
Birds trill in the trees surrounding your safe haven, the chorus as playful as the birds themselves. With closed eyes, you imagine their music to be colours, painting Stan’s words in the same way grapevines grow, this way and that, in a beautiful chaos that isn't quite random. Seeping into the moment, you nearly laugh as you press your neck further into the dip of his neck and feel the heat radiate from his skin, liking the way his voice falters. Taking a breathe, you revel in the familiarity. He always smelt like cinnamon.
It takes you by surprise when he leans down and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.
‘You missed.’
‘I what?’
‘You missed!’
Without hesitation, you rushed your head up until your forehead hit against his clumsily. Your lips finally united together, elation in his veins as he continued to press his lips more impenetrably and rougher onto yours. His insistent mouth was parting your trembling lips, sending wild tremors along your nerves, inflicting sensations you had never known you were capable of feeling, before you met Stan.
Pulling apart, he allows his hand to come up and stroke against your cheek. He never wanted this moment to end, he never wanted his thumbs to stop stroking your skin for as long as he lived. Sighing, he bumped his nose against yours.
