It's his weakness anyways.
++++
(Tw: slight talk about past self-harm.)
After eating and talking Bill decided to drag Richie back home. They both hadn't been home in a bit anyways. It was almost five anyways.
"Shit Eddie I didn't think the black eye was that bad." Beverly runs her thumb over the dark purple color.
"We were play fighting." He shrugs sitting down. "I'm gonna go shower." I blink slowly, still a little bit tired.
— after the shower
I stare at my reflection. A drop of water startles me as it lands on my shoulder. My hair is soaking wet.
My fingers glide across my collarbones, purple spots tingle as my finger taps on them. It's almost like I can feel his lips across my chest, his hands gripping my thighs as he holds me up.
"Stan? What the fuck open the door." The door handle jiggles, someone bangs on the door again. "Bill?" His breathing slows as his wide eyes blink rapidly.
"You fucking scared me. Don't do that." "What?" "Bev told me a while ago...about your-" "Wrists?" He nods gently, I finely noticed how his thumb slowly goes over my wrists.
"I-I don't do that anymore." And it's true. I don't. I don't feel like that anymore. And I don't want to ever again.
"Thank god." He pulls me close. His hand on the back of my head. "You've been standing there for about an hour."
"I got distracted." I shrug it off. "Hurry the car is gonna be in here in a bit." "Is it really almost seven?" "Yeah...you need a watch." He grins closing the door so I can get dressed.
His fingertips ghosted over my hips ever so slightly.
— a bit later
"You don't have any more sweaters?" "Nope." "We need to change that." He looks me up and down leading me to the car.
He kisses my jawline gently before pulling me into the backseat.
—Bill's POV
I had to do it. It's his weakness anyways.
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A Player's First Choice // Stenbrough
FanfictionA Player has Choices. What if I'm his number one out of the others?