𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

✩ 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 ~ 𝚜.𝚞. ✩

pairing: stanley uris(16) x (fem)(16)reader

warnings: extreme cursing

word count: 1223

song preference: guy.exe, superfruit

requested? [yes] [no]

—————————————————————————————————————

"ʙᴏʏꜱ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ꜱᴜᴄᴋ."

Stan's eyebrows raised and he looked up from the book he was reading, laying in the only hammock in the clubhouse. The Losers had found this place and were occupying it with all of their stuff in turn, making it their unofficial-official clubhouse. Stan often came here to read, or journal about birds, or just to think when the outside world got too loud. [Name] knew that he liked coming here, and since the pair were close friends, she counted on him to help her with her boy troubles.

"That's quite the generalized statement," Stan remarked, watching as [Name] twisted her hair up into a bun and tucked it all beneath a shower cap that match Stan's. They were located on a table conveniently near the ladder leading to the surface and were used to keep spiders, wood, and other bits of debris from falling into the Losers' hair.

"Is this about Gabe again?" Stan asked, standing from the hammock and leaving his book on the nearby ledge, dog earing the page (even though it hurt his soul to do so).

[Name] sighed and plopped down on an old mattress-turned-sofa, covered in a red gingham cloth simply to hide the dirt and grass stains. "Yes. We had a fight about what an asshole he was being today again, so I broke it off with him."

Stan's eyebrows launched themselves into the stratosphere. "Wow. Okay. I'm . . . proud of you?" he hesitated, not knowing whether or not it was a good thing.

"Oh, no, it's totally the best thing that's ever happened to me," [Name] said with a light laugh that made Stan sigh in relief. He sat beside her on the mattress and tapped his knees awkwardly.

"So . . . Do you want to talk about it?" Stan asked, unsure really what to do in this situation. Little did he know that he had just opened the floodgates to [Name]'s brain, granting her the ability to annoy the shit out of him while simultaneously unintentionally roasting the entire male gender.

"Do I? Holy shit, guys are so oblivious. And stupid. I literally have to ask Gabe to hold my hand because when I put it out, he'll hand me a stick of gum. And that's fine, because you are all like that, but the worst part is is I'll give him a look and he'll snap at me! Brother, I'm just trying to show you affection and you're acting like I'm a bear trap!"

"Oh wow—"

"And another thing!" [Name] continued to talk for another ten minutes before she finally calmed down enough to let Stan interject. But during those ten minutes, Stan had a fricking field day. All he could do was watch as the girl in front of him babbled on about how stupid her ex was, and she looked so pretty while she was doing it. It amazed Stan this was humanly possible, but he considered it a normal feat for her. Stan waited patiently for her to finish like the gentleman he is and then said, "So if you and Gabe didn't work out, then what now?"

[Name] shrugged. "I don't know. Look for a new boyfriend, I guess. Gabe won't require too big of a healing period because I mentally broke up with him about three months ago," she said flatly, and the pure lack of concern for Gabe in her tone of voice made Stan laugh a little.

"Seriously?" he asked, earning a stoic nod from the girl beside him. He looked into her eyes and asked, "Well, you're on the market now, so . . . what's your type?"

[Name] had hoped this question would come up. At least, the beginning part. When she heard the start, she was certain Stan would end it with "Will you be my girlfriend?" But, like she had just said, all guys are dumb and oblivious to when a girl does or doesn't have feelings for them.

"Definitely someone with financial security," she began, rubbing her fingers together in a "money-money" gesture. Stan nodded, taking mental note. When was the last time he checked his bank account?

"A nice car, a future CEO, and almost as smart as I am," she continued, looking out into the room and beginning to picture her dream guy. Stan cringed at the image of his old gray Toyota and his dreams to be an author and illustrator for his own bird novel. He could check the box off for being smart, as he had a 4.0 GPA and considered himself knowledgeable (at least, when it came to school stuff).

"Emotionally stable, with lots of assets and possibilities," [Name] said. Stan chewed his lip, not knowing if he was considered "emotionally stable," especially not after the events of a summer three years previous. The events still haunted him to this day, and he shivered just thinking about those sewers.

"Pretty high expectations, huh," Stan said, making [Name] snap out of her fantasy. She shrugged and smiled at him. "After what a dumpster fire my relationship with Gabe was, I think I deserve to have high expectations."

Stan nodded, acknowledging her point. She looked now at the floor as she continued with her fantasy. "Another thing is jealousy. If he's jealous of you guys, then I'd have to leave him, but a little jealousy wouldn't hurt." Stan was already jealous, so he checked that box off the list. "And a gentleman, someone who would open doors for me and be respectful and romantic."

"I open doors for you all the time," Stan pointed out, although to him it was simply a common courtesy.

[Name] felt a wave of realization wash over her and she nodded, smiling a little at her friend. "Yeah, you do."

"And what else?" Stan prodded, earning an eyeroll from [Name]. "You really want to listen to me talk about my dream guy for another fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, now get to it."

She laughed and grinned as she spoke. "Alright, alright. I don't even know . . . He'd pick me up for dates at eight o'clock sharp because I'm super impatient. He'd be really sweet and kind, emotional when he needs to be and sweet to his mother. Especially his mother," [Name] said, standing and giving Stan a pointed look. He nodded, checking off a few more boxes and giving himself a few mental notes.

"Six feet tall, and strong but not a meathead. We would always get along, and we'd be everyone's dream couple," [Name] said, raising her hand above her head to show how tall the dream guy should be and then spreading her arms out to gesture to "everyone."

Stan smiled and nodded, staring up at her with cow brown eyes. "You're my dream girl, [Name]." Immediately the smile dropped off his face and heat climbed up his neck, his own expression in shock of what he had just said. "I . . . Why did I just say that—?"

"I'm your dream girl?" [Name] asked, smiling a little and feeling flattered. Of course, she had had on and off feelings for Stan over the years, and now that her trashy ex-boyfriend was out of the way, maybe she finally had a shot with Stan. "Well, you pretty much reach my standards."

Stan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?"

"I'm saying I like you, dorknarc."

"Oh my God."

—————————————————————————————————————

sorry this kind of had a bad ending, but i kind of liked this one. does anyone else remember the trend to this that went viral like four years ago...anyway, my first two chapters are out on the miniseries so if you want to check that out please do! anyway, get some rest and drink your water, all <3