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#it x reader
slash-me-please · 7 months
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Hi! Can I request a Fem!Reader x Pennywise Smut where pennywise uses his tounge to fuck reader?
Literallsfsdfsdfsdfsdsdsd yes you can. I haven't written for Pennywise in a GRIP.
I present to you:
Drops from a Nectarine
warnings: fem receiving oral, dub!con, cunnilingus
Sun pours in through the open shades fallen onto your bay window. Eyes fluttering open with an exasperated moan, you turn your head to the side to get away from your offender. They do not follow. Your head sinks into the plush, microfiber sheets of your full-sized bed and for once, you decide to stay. Your bliss isn't taken advantage of, dread filling your chest as the overwhelming feeling of an uninvited visitor overcame the morning euphoria.
"Good morning, Bee." He tumbled over his words. That fucking clown. You tense, legs curling up and away from the foot of your bed.
"Go away Clown..." You murmured, voice shaky and unstable as his gloved hands pressed down on your sheets. He was covered in a thick layer of grime, as he was always. The sewers were no place to live, and a sewer-dweller had no place in your room. But still, he insisted, mimicked knuckles spreading and pulling against your clean sheets and effectively ruining them from further use. You'd have to burn them later, it was the only way.
"Buzz... Buzz... Buzz..." His head twisted rapidly towards you, faintly jingling as he crawled up your bed with a twisted grin. Pennywise's puffy red lips dripped with saliva, you watched a little too long to be the perfect victim. "You always know where to sting." You turn away as he lunges, towering over your frail, be it in comparison, body. Your limbs begin to shake with fear, anticipation as he watches over you with a blank expression.
"Why are you here Pennywise." You ask, it comes as a plea, and you fall deeper into the plush safety of your dirtied sheets. He gives you a smile, a fake one, which has your stomach twisting with something evil. "I am... hungry." He replies to your question as if it had been a simple answer, not one you had tossed and turned for the last few nights. "I do not fear you."
Pennywise grips you by the thighs, claws breaking through makeshift gloves to rip apart your underwear to shreds. "I've had my fill on fear... I am satiated." He giggles, head tilting downwards to glare at your exposed cunt. "I need a different type of food." And so he leans, his claws pushing your legs backwards and into a position which had you gritting your teeth. One that would have him giggling his crazy little giggle again.
With that, his tongue extends and begins to lap at your swollen folds. He holds you down as he tortures you with a callous tongue. His head ducks further, spreading them open to reveal your aching clit- which he nudges with his large tongue again. Your hands find his hair as you arch against the bed, pushing your heat against his dripping tongue. He tortures your clit with a cruel precision, one that has you knowing he's racked up quite the body count in his thousands of years alive. You cannot bring yourself to care, a whimper falling from bitten lips.
"I told you not to come back!" You sobbed, legs involuntarily squeezing around his head. And his head drops further with that, tongue parting you to dip inside your warm heat. Pennywise moans against your cunt, eyes rolling back and teeth enveloping the lower part of your pelvis. It felt as if he was eating the soul inside of you, yourself slipping through the closed fingers of your spirit and falling into his mouth where you'd meet your sweet demise. His tongue pistoned in and out of you, sucking in your wetness with loud slurps and squelching. You'd never been eaten out in such a way, eaten like he wanted more than just your sex. Like he wanted you.
"God!" You cried, pushing against his head as his claws drew blood from your skin. It rolled down your thighs and into your sheets, the same ones you had ran your fingers through and grabbed. Pennywise jingled for a moment, tongue rubbing against the roof of your heat as you thrusted your hips against his mouth. "Mm close!" You gasp, fingers rubbing against his head as his hands hold you in place.
Pennywise chose not to respond, instead his chest rumbled with a feral growl as he pushed his tongue impossibly deep into your cunt, a gloved thumb moving to rub circles around your clit. And with a loud whine, you released into his mouth. He drank you in like you tasted better than any blood that had ever touched his tongue. Back curled over your pelvis as he held your heat flush with his face, his eyes were rolled back and his teeth had sunk deep into your skin. Fear erupted with the blossomed pleasure which ran hot through your veins and Pennywise audibly moaned.
"Let go..." You gasped, pushing lightly at his hands. You already wanted to go back to sleep. Luckily he obliged, pulling away from you and licking his lips with a lewd glare. It didn't take long before he dropped your legs and crawled over your shaking body. You pressed your hand against his chest and sighed. "You'll be back?" You mumble, and he slots his thumb between your lips. "Can't get enough of this cunt..." You release a hollow giggle, nipping at the tip of a gloved finger and pushing Pennywise away. He watches you slip underneath the covers and stays until you fall back into a restful sleep.
He'll be back.
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bella-goths-wife · 3 months
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How reader could manipulate the bowers gang boys
Again, please enjoy my attempts at being deep writer while being sick and sad
I do not intend to romanticise or encourage any of the following warnings, my writing is solely for entertainment and informational purposes. I do not support or condone any and all abuse and I do not believe in any of the various themes I write about.
Henry bowers:
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As we've established in previous posts, Henry craves to be taken care of
His mother was the only person who cared about him until his dad scared her off, and now he has no one
His dad couldn't give less of a shit about him, and while he sees the boys as his brothers, he'd never discuss thoughts and feelings with them because he was their leader and he can't seem weak
But you, you were so gentle and kind to those around you
Sure, you looked cold and sometimes you'd act like an arrogant bitch
But he saw how you acted with Beverly, before he made you his
You knew she struggled, so you'd make her an extra lunch and offer her a shoulder to cry on
Something about watching those interactions made Henry's skin crawl with an ugly jealousy which he mistook for anger and disgust
That's why he was so intent on hurting you the day he and the boys followed you after school, so he could take out his frustrations
But then he and the other boys saw you dancing, and he knew you'd be perfect
The way you could manipulate Henry is by really playing into the caregiver role
Make his lunches, write him little notes on them, offer to trim his hair, cook his dinners, offer to do his laundry and take care of his wounds after fights
Really act like you care about Henry, make him believe that you can be relied on
Make Henry believe that you are the one person in the world who cares about him and you'll be in for a world of surprises
As time goes on Henry will reveal more about himself, in his own gruff and verbally abusive fashion
But there will be a gentleness that's unlocked within him, it's minuscule when looking at it through the societal norms but if you view it as someone who has experienced his abuse for months, the change can be unexpected
If you do something wrong, as long as it's only minor (like burning his food slightly or not responding the first time he speaks), he'll turn a blind eye to it for the first time it happens instead of yelling and hurting you
And if he does decide to 'punish' you, he'll clean up your wounds instead of making you work through it and he'll make sure to avoid body parts that are vital to your ballet dancing
He'll also become more affectionate in his own way
He'll hold you at night in a way that used to be rough and only a precaution in case you tried to do something while he slept, but now his hold is less bruising and held more adoration then before
If you want to manipulate Henry, then the best way to do this is to voice your opinion while he holds you
It's really the only time he'd listen, so you'd have to make sure you do it correctly and you don't overuse it because he would eventually catch on
But if you wanted something to change within the group, your best chance is to mention it during this time
For example, if you didn't want to be around Patrick for too long, all you'd have to say to Henry is "Patrick makes me uncomfortable sometimes when he touches me"
And suddenly, your around Patrick by yourself less and less by Henry's command
Another route you could take is to cause conflict within the group, for example
You could say something like "Patrick's been quite demanding lately, he told me not to make you lunch tomorrow and to make it for him instead"
This will plant seeds of doubt in Henry's mind and will cause problems amongst the boys
The only side effect to this manipulation is a very needy, clingy and possessive Henry who feels the need to have you around 24/7 since you take such good care of him
Patrick Hockstetter:
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Patrick is a sociopath, it's very clear to see and if he were born ten years later he would be labelled as dangerous to society
So his manipulation would be extremely hard, but everyone has their blindspots
And Patrick's is that he craves sexual attention and validation
Patrick has been sleeping with girls since he was fifteen, and sometimes he thinks it's the only thing that makes other people seem real to him
He's engaged in sexual relations with you, but never with your consent
And while he enjoys the pleasure and control he gains from the interaction, he knows that he would prefer it if you were an active participant who enjoyed the experience with him
A way you could manipulate Patrick is if you started to act enthusiastic to sleep with him
You'd have to force yourself and you'd have to be a good actress, but if you acted enthusiastically about having sex with Patrick and sharing that part of yourself willingly with him it would definitely lower his guard
As I've mentioned before in previous posts, after having any sexual interactions with you he will be kinder to you for a few weeks afterwards
This means that If you wanted to make it so he was being nicer to you then you could initiate sex with him for your own benefit
This would grant you many rewards such as gifts he stole from the mall, defending you against the other boys when they get too rough and he's even able to get you out of some of the punishments the other boys set out for you
Another route you could take Patrick's manipulation is to withdraw from sex completely
For weeks you'd be enthusiastic and initiating sex with Patrick until he does something that makes you upset
Once he does this, you stop acting happy about having sex with him and you stop participating
You can't outright stop having sex with him unfortunately as he will just force you to
But If you withdraw from sex go from someone who was enthusiastic and excited to someone who just lays there and takes it while you dissociate from the situation, it's gonna give Patrick a case of whiplash
He'll try and enjoy the sex even though your withdraw but he just can't anymore, not when he's experienced you at your fullest
So he'll subconsciously start to gain back your attention
This would be an opportunity to try and gain more out of Patrick
Request things that you'd get smacked for before
Ask for things like alone time, cigarettes, friends and they'll all be granted as long as you just have sex with Patrick with the same passion as before
If you want to cause problems with the group through your manipulation of Patrick, start sleeping with one of the other boys with enthusiasm while denying Patrick and you'll have a fist fight in no time
Victor Criss:
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Vic is extremely possessive of you
You are his and he is yours, he has stated this to you many times
This possessiveness has always been encouraged by his silent resentment of Henry and the other boys
All of his nice and pretty things were always taken from him
When he was younger, belch would steal his toys and break them
When he was a pre teen, Henry would steal his lunches and snacks from home
And when he was a teenager, Patrick would steal any girl that vic found pretty before sleeping with her and leaving her broken hearted
Vic held so much resent in for those instances, but they formed dark bruises on his heart from the memories
All you have to do is press down on those bruises and reignite the sting he felt from them
You could act very affectionate with him behind closed doors and act like the two of you are just passionate lovers
Be affectionate with him and make him more vulnerable and susceptible to your manipulative behaviour
Once he's comfortable, reinforce his thoughts of how you are his and his only
Make sure he knows that you believe that you are his as well
This will encourage to him to take your requests more seriously and to even grant the very few he can
It also reassures you that he's less likely to punish you if you act like his perfect little toy
•But if you wanted to go down the route of manipulating the boys against each other, then your best bet is to pit him against Henry
Drop into conversations that you wish you could spend more time with him, but Henry just won’t let you
Describe all the horrible things Henry does to you and exaggerate it before adding “if it was just you and me, you’d never do anything like this to me”
All those feelings of resentment that vic repressed for years will boil over
At first it will start off as small arguments but it will quickly develop
If you continuously use these methods of manipulation on vic for months and then try to provoke Henry into acting cruel to you and punishing you in front of vic, then make vic watch the cruelty being inflicted on you and watch his possessive and protective behaviour bubble to the surface
There would be a bloody fight which would end up with one of them dead, and you better pray that it’s Henry who looses
You know what they say
If you want to kill a snake, remove the head
Belch Huggins:
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As I’ve said in my other posts, belch is absolutely desperate for your approval
He’s craved it ever since the first time you granted him a compliment
Even if it was more of an observation of a compliment, to him it felt like a goddess had finally given him a purpose
You may think that’s enough to be able to manipulate belch, but unfortunately you weren’t the first person to figure this out
Henry has always been observant over belch, belch is physically stronger and if he were smarter he could probably overtake Henry as the group leader
So Henry definitely noticed how much belch lit up after you praised or complimented him
And he saw this as something that could be a threat
So he decided to use it against you before you figured out a plan
He told belch that in order to gain your approval, he would have to follow Henry’s instructions no matter how cruel or violent they were
Henry reassured him that even if you insulted belch or yelled at him for following Henry’s instructions, but it was all for your own good
And eventually you’d thank belch for helping you figure out what you wanted
At least that’s what Henry told him
So no matter how guilty belch may feel, Henry has manipulated him so much that he truly does believe the abuse is gonna help you
But one way you could manipulate belch is through similar methods as vic or Henry
Overpower him with your affection and compliments
Make him feel loved and wanted with your words and actions
But only do this obviously in private with him
Only give him your affections and approval subtly
Think about secret lovers affection, like touching pinkies with your hands spread out or his hand on your knee under the table
These actions will make his as giddy as a teenager in love
He truly will believe that you and him are in love
While you give him the affection and approval that he craves, make small requests like
“I really wish I could smoke again, do you think you could give me one of your cigarettes”
Now there is a small chance that he’ll allow it if he’s blissed out on your touch, but if he denies you then immediately stop all the affection that your giving him and push him away
This will cause him to backpedal and give in to your request as long as you continue to touch him
This only works for minor requests though, for major requests you’ll need to scare him
For example, if you wanted some time to spend with Beverly then you’d have to ask him and when he Denies you then simply threaten him with harming yourself or not eating
This will send his protective side into overdrive and you can have this man on his knees begging for forgiveness if you play your cards right
A way to manipulate him against the rest of the group is to prove yourself as the only person who cares about him and loves him before planting the seeds of doubt in his mind
Drop little comments like “Patrick was wrong about you, your not stupid” or “vic says your too violent, but I don’t think that’s true”
He’ll start to second guess his friends and he’ll start to come to you more with his problems
But the best move to make is to make it so after all those months of manipulating belch against the rest of his friends, have him watch as Henry is unnecessarily cruel to you
And then go crying into belchs arms in private and demand to know why he didn’t help you or defend you
Drop in a “I thought you loved me” and you’ll have undone all of Henry’s manipulation in seconds
You could convince belch to take you away from the rest of the boys and to run away with you so you could be together forever
Hopefully you’ll be able to sneak away from belch at some point because he now trusts you
And even if you don’t, being stuck with belch is the lesser of two evils
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blue-sadie · 6 months
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Plaid Skirts
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Imagine:
Being the only one not taking any of the bowers gangs shit which makes them target you more and on photo day you were forced to wear a plaid skirt which drove the boys crazy so after school they dragged you into an empty classroom to have their way with you.
"You should were skirts more often so it makes it easier for us to fuck you or finger you during class oh you'd like that wouldn't you to get used whenever we want"
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girlystories · 6 months
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Being the Bowers gang girl
Both platonic & romantic headcanons. includes all members.
addition warnings: swearing, bullying, very few depictions of sexism, few derogatory names, toxicity, abusive parenting.
words: 2.6k
this was entirely inspired by z0mbiekittyy, so please check them out!
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Meeting/joining the gang
you were at first the quiet, loner girl who kept to herself, only having a few acquaintances, with very few friends.
it wasn't because you were a loser. only the opposite. everyone wanted to become friends with you or get to know you in some way but you never let anyone get close.
everyone had heard of you of course. when they realized you were different they stopped trying to read you or make their mind about you.
that was until greta keene couldn't get enough. she hated the attention you got. so one day she started spreading rumors about you.
it was relatively easy, since no one knew you enough to disprove them in any way. one word went to another and everyone in town now started talking shit about you.
despite that, you didn't care. you had your mind somewhere else. popularity and school drama weren't your thing.
you didn't mind hearing the remarks spat at you when you wandered the halls or when you were in class. you were completely and utterly unbothered.
word got fast that it even reached the all too feared bowers gang.
you were making your way to biology class when you were shoved against a locker, all your books falling one by one on the floor.
"well well well, if it isn't derry's most favored whore", henry was the first to indulge in the act.
he was followed by vic, or – as he liked to refer to him as his 'right-man', "hey, hank. why haven't we ever tried to mess with her before?"
you tried to back up slowly, but your back hit against another frame. when you looked up your eyes met with a pair of green ones, followed by an unsettling smile.
it seemed like no one noticed what was happening – or in better words, no one gave a shit about what was happening.
"dont worry, [name], we're not gonna kill you, jeez," belch revealed.
that made henry groan and turn his head towards his friend. "shut up."
patrick, still behind you, held onto your shoulders, which was very easy due to his height. "or we will, you will find out soon."
"both of you shut up," henry silenced them before it could escalate to something else. "so, how about you come with us for a ride? ya'know, get some air n' stuff."
"you mean like skipping school?", you asked.
"why? are you scared? I'm sure your reputation is as shitty as it can get. can't get any worse than that. even ours is better."
you shrugged, and just decided to follow them. just as you sat at your seat – between vic and patrick, you couldn't make out the read ahead of you, as they were driving recklessly. where you were, you hadn't the slightest clue.
they were laughing and howling, sometimes shouting at the drives passing by.
you? well, you were scared shitless. you clung onto your seat belt, and holding back the urge to start shrieking.
after a while you got used to it and had to admit deep down it was kinda fun.
when you stopped, you realized you were at a junkyard. they prepared a fire when the sun began to set down and opened some bottles of beer.
as you all circled around the fire you began to talk about whatever. you also found yourself to... tolerate them. or, better yet, even enjoy their company.
before you knew it, little by little you hang more and more with them, slowly becoming one of them. it was the first time you were a part of something. they felt like home and you could trust them, despite the hardships and more extreme emotional outbursts.
your reputation got even worse but you didn't care. you had found your people.
Activities
other than hanging out in the junkyard, you guys do other stuff (of course).
it's like you all live together, while you also don't. frequent sleepovers, meet-ups on each other houses take place, ect.
vic once convinced you all to go camping a few towns away. despite being the one who recommended the idea, he ended up despicing it. on the other hand, patrick who hated the idea ended up having the most fun. scaring vic by hiding bugs in his tent and pretending he was hearing bears or wolves. belch had enough and kept demanding they'd stop fighting, while you kept laughing at vic's reactions everytime. you never went camping again.
every morning belch picks everyone in order, first henry, then patrick, then you, and lastly – the sleeping queen himself: vic.
then, you make a stop at the local diner, everyone choosing their own specific order that the waitress had already memorized.
unless vic had a hangover from the party the day before, he wouldn't stop complaining about who-knows-what.
sometimes, when you were really bored, you'd go out of town in search of abandoned places, owning them for a while until someone else found them and ruined them almost immediately.
it was expected and common sense you'd show up at ever party. then you all would split for a while but meet up in order to leave. belch was in priority not to drink or get high until anyone else got a license. that's what you all agreed on but that possiblility seemed unlikely.
at school you avoided bullying anyone, but giving up on trying to stop them from terrosizing another kid since it was the only thing they ignored you on. the only time you fought back was to defend yourself. not that you needed to, but because you wanted them to know that you weren't as incompetent as you seemed.
when you had the change you'd shoot empty beer bottles with henry's dad's gun.
Henry Bowers
you and henry would share your deep wounds together. him about his alcoholic and insane old man, and you about your hard time fitting in, both in family and friends.
you would joke around, but to an extent. if you said the wrong thing he'd refuse to speak to you for days, weeks or maybe even months – depending how much it affected him. if he was too stubborn, vic would have to somehow find a way to talk him out of his bitchy attitude.
despite him trying to seem hard-shelled, deep down he was very sensitive. he knew you knew that, and he hated it. it was the only thing he hated about you except the fact that tend to be pushy sometimes.
he had never cried in front the guys, but one day he couldn't hold back when he was only with you. it happened only once, but he still feels humiliated about it and hopes you'd never bring it up. he made you swore to never tell anyone.
butch seemed to like you for a reason, only approving of you from the gang. he hated the rest. when you find yourself at their house, he'd warmly greet you.
at first he and patrick made a lot of sexist joke about you. later when he noticed you went silent you, he started using them less, only saying them once or twice.
always offers you cigarettes, and makes sure to buy your favorites.
sometimes (when he's not in a shitty mood) he pays for your food when you go at the diner without saying a word or giving you the chance to convince him otherwise.
all good things considered, let's be honest here cuz we all know he has more negative that good qualities.
for example; gets jealous super easily and gets mad at you for it, making you apologize for something that isn't your fault.
NEVER admits he's wrong. ever.
when you have a different opinion he tells you to shut up or straight up threatens you.
needs a lot of attention, while also can't have on his tail all the time, making him indecisive and confusing.
sometimes doesn't realize you need help and leaves you deal with your problems alone while you clearly do need some sort of hand.
still, you always have a way to be together again, unable to keep any distance between you both. on weekends you usually take the bus to his house, helping him with the choses around the farm.
Vic Criss
you and vic already knew each other from middle school. you were in the same class and he used to help you with homework.
then, when kids started growing up through that phase everybody did about that sort of rivalry against girls and boys. because of that, your 'friendship' fell apart.
you weren't really friends back then but you could've been.
he never admitted it but he always stared at you from away, wishing you would somehow start talking to each other again.
he was the one who convinced henry to approach you that day. the idea popped into his mind just as those rumors started going around.
he was glad henry agreed. even though he always did, he was anxious of saying no. later, he lied to you, saying it was henry's idea instead and that first interaction you had with him was henry's way of being kind (despite calling you a 'whore').
you and vic were close, in a different way you were with the others. he understood you better and he was very good at telling advice. he was also fun gossiping with. definitely the best when having a sleepover. the others found him annoying or bitchy about it, but with you he was himself.
he also was kinda subtle about his true personality, not showing his true small but intresting quirks only you knew.
speaking of gossiping, almost every weekend he crashed at your place, the excuse being his siblings giving him a headache, while his mom being 'a pain in the ass'.
everytime he had a problem with the others you would be the first to know. he was still henry's 'right-man', but sometimes henry was, well... henry.
at parties he'd get wasted and you'd be 100% sure he'd be found in the bathroom pucking his guts out.
you guys are so close he would be showering while you were doing your business at the toilet, gossiping about everything single detail.
still sometimes helps you with school after some persuation, but keeps reminding you that 'he is not your tutor'.
loves braiding your hair when you're hanging out, especially during class when it's something super boring (even for him).
Patrick Hockstetter
you were honestly pretty scared of patrick at first, and most definitely the only one from the gang who gave you the creepes.
the alligations weren't few, to say the least, and at first you kept your distance from him.
he also didn't try to make a move on you, which you found stange, yet grateful. maybe henry threatened him or something. either way you were considerably on good terms with patrick.
one day at school, while you were waiting for the other three to come at your usual spot during break, he offered you a cigarette. you received it with gratitude, since it was rare for an offer coming from patrick. he even stricked up a conversation, which was... maybe a bit thought provoking.
then he smirked – that one charismatic he wore when you would stop being able to read his mind. he was like a puzzle, but most pieces were missing or switched with incorrect ones. "are the rumors true?", he asked, closing his zippo with a 'click' after he light your cigarette.
"i dont think that you care if they're true or not," you answered back, the tobacco filling your lungs with nicotine.
clouds of smoke escaped his nostrils with each chuckle. "maybe."
on your ride home Black Sun Morning by Screaming Trees was playing from the radio and you found yourself singing alongside patrick. he rose his brows, "you know 'em?"
"duh, of course."
the next day on the ride to school, instead of gossiping with vic you ended up having a deep conversation with patrick about music. you never imagined that you'd be having a conversation about art with him of all people.
since then, you hit it off well. he stopped using sexist comments as well, and even attempted physical contact at the diner, brushing his fingers against your hair. when he realized you let him or try to stop him, he smiled to himself.
in the end you were usually seen together, you sitting on his lap during breaks or at the gym stands, in the car or diner. he would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. it was making the others sick.
sometimes you attempted to help him with homework, but he only agreed so you could just hangout. he wasn't really interested in attending college. the thing he was good at was certainly playing the guitar. both bass and lead guitar. vic jokes about him making a band but it something told you he didn't view it as a light joke.
one day he invited you to his house to show you his vinyls and discs. that's when you met his mother and was pretty surprised to find out she was vietnamese. he made sure to never speak vietnamese around you or the others.
when meeting you he became less... interested at the fridge at the junkyard, viewing it less and less. maybe therapy was starting to work out? even for a tiny bit.
extremely protective of you, especially at parties. makes sure to keep an eye out even though you wouldn't know it.
Belch Huggins
belch was the most chill and the most independent one of the gang. aways making sure everything was in check and going smoothly. it was no surprise he was super welcome to you and tried to make you at ease the first few weeks, asking you if you were okay or needed a ride home.
is a gentleman, of course. doesn't tolerance any disrespect towards you, no matter how small it may seem to you.
offeres to pay for you when going out, no matter how many times you don't let him.
one time you both got so drunk you couldn't stop laughing; your bellys hurting and your eyes filled with tears while your faces were bright red. it made henry mad (as usual) but it's a memory you'd never forget. you had no way to get back home, though.
on fridays you watch him play basketball, sitting at the stands, and smoking and encouraging him. sometimes vic or patrick came too, but it was very rarely.
he offers you the ball but you immediately decline, being reminded of the day the ball hit you in the face after you missed your shot.
you requested him to teach you how to drive, which was a bad idea honestly. at first you didn't understand his instructions at all, but when he asked you if you had any questions you lied saying 'no'. after that instead of stepping on going forward you accidentally went backwards, almost crashing his beloved trams-am that he named 'daisy'. then you turned the wheel too far, almost falling at a ditch before he saved you two.
swore that you'd never get a license in your life and forbid you anywhere near the wheel, not even the passengers seat.
his dad owes a workshop, fixing cars. he helped too, supporting him in any way he could. you also helped him here and there while he taught you the basics and answered any questions you had.
he promised that he'd let you fix a car entirely on your own without his help. he said he'd also let you keep it for free.
you have a drawer contained only of belch's clothes. at first you'd ask him to try his sweatshirts on. then you'd complain you were cold and he'd sigh, saying you could give it back another day. but you never did.
you loved it when he gave you biggyback rides. his, especially. he could never refuse, despise how tired he was.
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multific · 1 year
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Memories of A Past
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Pennywise x Reader
Summary: Before Pennywise became the killing clown of Derry, he used to be a simple man, your man.
Before a meteor hit, before all the blood and children cries, he used to be a simple man.
A simple man who worked at the circus. A simple man who was in desperate love with you.
He was your man.
And you were his woman.
His name was Robert Gray, better known as Bob Gray, better known as Pennywise the Dancing Clown.
Bob was the love of your life. He could make you smile all the time. He always had something up his sleeve and he loved your laugh.
Your father was against Robert. He often said you deserved better than a clown.
But you didn't care.
You married him and joined the circus. 
It was a simple life, but it was your life. Yours and your Bobby's. 
And soon, you were blessed with a child. A beautiful daughter who was loved by you and Robert.
"She has your eyes." he said as he smiled at you, tears in your eyes as you watched him with your daughter.
You had a lovely life. Robert made everyone smile with his dancing clown persona and your daughter was growing fast.
But then, something changed. One day, you could have sworn the man in front of you wasn't your husband anymore.
The man holding you during nights, the man who kissed you good morning, wasn't your Bobby.
And it scared you.
He scared you.
"You are the most precious." he often told you, whispered into your ear.
Everywhere you went, death followed. Children were dying left and right and you were extremely concerned. 
Then during the Easter Egg Hunt you had a feeling your husband had something to do with it, you couldn't confirm it though.
That evening, when you arrived home to your trailer, you noticed your husband still wearing his clown costume, he turned to look at you and you wanted to ask him. 
You needed to confront him, you needed answers. But your voice never came.
You weren't too sure what happened after. All you could recall were three bright dots, shining bright as you fell asleep.
Pennywise woke every 27 years. He woke to incredible hunger which he needed to fulfil.
He had you down in the debts. Keeping you there for centuries now, asleep, dreaming away.
Pennywise had an attachment to you. He wondered if it was because of the host he took. Taking Robert, he took his memories, and Robert's memories were filled with you. At first, Pennywise wanted to kill you, he saw you as a weakness, but he couldn't. 
And even after so so many years, he still couldn't let go of you. He kept you in your dream, so he would have you, floating.
Every time he woke up, he went to see you. His sick and twisted mind saw the beauty that you were. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek.
"You are the most precious," he whispered.
And while he was out there eating and scaring children, you and your Bob were trapped in a dream along with your little girl.
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ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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remuslupinbutcooler · 10 months
Text
Favours for the non favourable…
poly!Bowers Gang x Fem!reader
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The boys stood,watching y/n. The way her lips curved slightly after a boy in their class had asked her to do something , they swapped longing glances before swapping a small bag of coins which caused the girl to giggle from the interaction. The boy left soon after , y/n however stuck around , slamming her locker.
Hockstetter rushed over , his bony fingers hooking onto the loops of her dark denim shorts causing her to stumble and crash into him, back facing his front. The scene itself caused the others to walk over and great the girl like a bunch of hyenas.
“Heard your doing favours ?” Henry spoke up first , his eyes darting around to make sure no one else was around . His hands lay crossed against his chest.
“Yes but not for you..not for any of you..” Y/N rolled her eyes before attempting to walk away, this didn’t go unnoticed and caused Hockstetter to hook an arm around her waist and push her into him.
“Well that’s not nice Doll..” He placed his chin on the left side of her shoulder , his breath hitting the back of her neck causing her to shiver against his grip.
“It’s my business boys..I can refuse whatever favours are asked or who ever asks..” She shrugged before giggling.
“Even one’s who would get and do anything you wanted ..?” Henry smirked, this caused the girl to stop her antibowers gang mentality. It caused her to stop and think. It caused a small explosion within her. A reckless explosion.
Silence soon flooded the conversation , causing a tint of blush and embarrassment to fill the girls face .
~~~~~~~~a small 30 minute time skip~~~~~~~~~
She shook her head before letting her hands speak before the words left her mouth “ wait wait wait so-“
“Henry maybe this was a bad i-“
“Vic..shut up.. Let the lady speak.”
“wait so you guys are all together like one big…whatever that’s not important right now..well it is..But..But…uh..you want me..to…uh..what?” She tiled her head like a puppy unable to understand a simple command .
“Be our arm candy..Our girl. Ours or whatever. Look..Look you’re hot and popular and nice or whatever and we need you..” Henry had quickly become embarrassed and slightly annoyed at this girl.
“You, Henry Bowers and his gang of idiots,need me?” This stifled a laugh from the girl, causing her body to almost bounce .
“Yes.” The boys quickly answered, almost angrily .
“Why not..oh i don’t know..Greta or Beverly?”
“Well that’s an easy answer Doll, they’re just not you.” Hockstetter nuzzled into the crook of her neck almost , pulling her closet into him.
She pulled away before grabbing her stuff . Causing the boys to edge closer to her .
“Wait so instead of..I don’t know! Flirting with me like a normal dude and trying your chances, you’ve decided to do this instead? “ She giggled again, this time it was a sour giggle filled with teenage meanness.
“WE COULD’VE..sorry.. We could’ve done that ! Instead of..?! Henry I told you we could’ve ..” Criss rolled his eyes before dramatically throwing himself across Henry. Henry now playfully pushed him off causing the smaller boy to fall into Huggins.
“So..”
“So…?”
“What’s the answer gonna be Doll?” Hockstetter’s lips hit her neck , playfully biting at it.
“mhm…yeah..” She answered before hiding her face.
“Whatever you want Princess..”
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sematarygirls · 2 months
Text
Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.
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part one
pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader
summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.
warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,
word count : 4.5k words !
a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.
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"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.
"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."
"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."
"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.
However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.
You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."
Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.
"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.
"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."
Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.
Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"
Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?
He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.
He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.
He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long
At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.
He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.
The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.
Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.
That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.
Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.
As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.
You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.
You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.
You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.
He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.
After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.
He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.
The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.
His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.
The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.
He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.
He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.
Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.
But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.
It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.
He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.
He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.
The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.
He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.
He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.
"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.
"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.
"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.
"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.
"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."
"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.
"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.
"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.
You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.
He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.
In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.
When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.
"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.
"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"
"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.
His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.
The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.
"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.
"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.
"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.
"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.
Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.
"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.
He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.
The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.
He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.
"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.
"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.
your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.
"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.
He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.
His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.
"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."
He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.
"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."
Yeah, right he thought.
He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.
Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.
He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.
"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"
You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!
"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.
"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.
Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.
"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."
"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.
"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."
His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.
"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."
"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.
"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."
He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.
"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."
He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.
"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.
He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.
"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."
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tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,
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145 notes · View notes
suekeyyyy · 4 months
Text
Bowers Gang.
Seires: pervs of derry. NOT A CHAPTER.
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Warnings: The added members are from the books and the original seires.
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🩸HENRY BOWERS 🗡 _The leader_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲
- Known bully, racist, sexual offender, alcoholic, and abuser.
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💥 PATRICK HOCKSTETTER ⚠️ _CO Leader_ 17 years old. 🇺🇲/🇰🇷
- Known bully, rapist, animal abuser, and sexual offender.
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🏈REGINALD 'BELCH' HUGGINS🚙 _Get away Driver_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲
- Known bully.
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🚬VICTOR CRISS📓 _Smartst Member_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲
- Known bully, smoker, and "good" student.
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🤼🏻‍♂️ STEVE 'MOOSE' SADLER🏅 _Meat Head_ 17 years old. 🇺🇲/🇯🇵
- Known bully, smoker, sexual offender, and alcoholic.
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🏴‍☠️GARD JAGERMEYER 🕸 _Dumb ass_ 16 years old. 🇩🇪/🇺🇲
- Known bully, smoker, and alcoholic.
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Note: the bowers gang [ I'm stalling. ]
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billdenbroughsgirl · 4 months
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could write anything fluff with Henry Bowers
❤️🖤
of course! <3 these are just hcs since i have a bad cold right now n im busy, so my bad anon!
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♡ FLUFFY HENRY BOWERS HEADCANNONS !
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♡ henry is mean. we both know that. he uses it as a defense, because if he's the bully, he won't get bullied
♡ that's what you came up with, when he made snarky comments to the teachers in your shared classes, when you overheard him complaining about his dad, and pieced it together
♡ you two started dating after you pestered him to let you walk him home, and ended up getting along really well
♡ he has a huge !! soft spot for you, you're his number one priority. will literally do anything for you
♡ the losers are probably definitely thankful you're distacting him
♡ if you're friends with richie, he'll make at least five jokes about it
henry is sitting on his sofa, with you curled up on his lap, reading your favorite book. a movie is playing in the background, but he's not really paying attention, more focused on raking his fingers through your hair. the phone rings, and he reaches to pick it up. "hello?" he's still fidgeting with your hair with his free hand. "where are you? we've been waiting for a solid while." you hear belch complain, ending with a groan. "dude, i told you, i'm with y/n." he drops the phone back into its cradle. "i'm sorry, i didn't know i was interrupting plans," you apologize, looking up at him. "what? fuckin' god, y/n. i'd hang out with you anytime."
♡ lots of kisses everywhere. nose, forehead, temple, hand
♡ makes sure you know he'd much rather be with you
♡ like on phone calls, if you ask him how he is he'll go "not good :( i miss you" "henry, i just left your house"
♡ bonus points if you're clingy, he feels a lot better about his own attachment
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yandere-toons · 1 year
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HENRY BOWERS
Platonic & Romantic Headcanons – Yandere
WARNING: child abuse and neglect, strong violence, bullying, implied alcoholism, reference to divorce, emotional abuse.
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PLATONIC:
As soon as his father drinks himself into unconsciousness or throws him out the door, Henry stalks down the street to where he thinks his friend might be. Explaining nothing of his sullen demeanour, he places himself in the middle of whatever they are doing, dragging them into a more private area if their current activity is too public or not to his liking. From there, the hope is that his friend will act in a way that comforts him without him having to ask for it and risk further humiliation.
There are two possible outcomes here, depending on how his friend treats him and who else gets involved. If they accept his presence without prying, Henry will shut down and remain silent for a while, riding out the emotional storm around someone he now has a reasonable chance of trusting. If they stonewall him or others interrupt, Henry will revert to his hostile bully persona and never mention the event again, as it has become a new source of shame for him.
Henry reveals a watered-down version of the truth when pressed for answers, but even then, he refuses to tell the whole story out of a desire not to relive it, not to be seen as a whiner, and not to show how profoundly it has affected him. After all, a history of cruel reactions from his father and the small-town mentality of Derry have taught him that emotional vulnerability is a dangerous mistake of the stupid and weak.
Despite this, it becomes increasingly clear that Henry is stalling for time when the subject of going home creeps up on him. He would much rather stay out all day and night with his friend and the gang, cruising town with Belch at the wheel, forgetting what awaits him when he sets foot on the family farm. But Henry knows only too well that Butch's wrath will double if he has to go looking for him.
Henry will threaten and, if sufficiently provoked, maim anyone who shows an interest in his friend. His worldview is more than a little misanthropic, as his good memories are few and far between, and his father and the community at large have taught him to hate anyone who challenges his idea of the norm. As such, he sees this as a favour to his friend, ridding them of all the scumbags who would inevitably trap them in an unwanted relationship.
But deeper down, in the places that have never quite healed, the places he never talks about, Henry is afraid of powerlessness. He despises the thought that his friend would abandon him because of someone else, as his mother did, so he does not give them that option. Anyone who tries to plant the idea in their head that they should cut ties with him, or worse, leave town, he beats as if it might save his life.
As far as Henry is concerned, no one offers a better source of companionship than he. He is fond of yelling this supposed fact and more at his friend when they refuse to drop everything and join him at a moment's notice. Seeing this as an affront to his authority as well as a personal insult, Henry cannot take it, especially when it happens in front of people, and tries to hector them into submission.
If any of Henry's accomplices disagree with his methods, none will be too honest about it. Henry displays an unabashed willingness to hurt anyone and everyone who comes between him and his friend. Other bullies have required stitches courtesy of Henry and learned to turn tail at the sight of him or them, and the last concerned citizen to intervene was left with a concussion.
Although Henry is a little more lenient with his gang, he still has rules about what kind of interactions are acceptable. Some of these rules go unspoken until one of the other boys crosses a line he did not know had been drawn. On the first day, Patrick Hockstetter lost his right to be alone with Henry's friend and incurred a death threat from Henry after Patrick made advances towards them and asked if they would like to share Henry with him.
Spending time with other people sounds like a waste of energy to Henry, but spending time with the Losers is so inexcusable that he expresses it in the only language he knows: violence. His need to anticipate his father's unstable emotions has made him sensitive to any sign of displeasure in others, which Henry receives in abundance from one of the Losers, Richie Tozier. Tozier calls him an obsessive freak when he cuts one of the kids for staring at his friend.
ROMANTIC:
His only frame of reference is his parents' disastrous marriage, now separated, and the couples at school he enjoys breaking up with shoves and jibes. Henry can be demanding in everything he asks of his partner, putting them in the untenable position of bearing the brunt of his emotional hunger. It is an overwhelming and confused mess of mixed signals and frustration that has built up over years.
Much of Henry's attention-seeking behaviour and unpredictable aggression stems from the fact that he is both ashamed of his struggles and less and less successful at repressing them. When he still tries, it manifests itself in violent outbursts and, in the context of this relationship, defensive anger when his partner does not immediately and completely fulfil his needs.
There are few things Henry would hate more than being compared to his father, so he refrains from using this level of violence with his partner. However, he retains a distinct bullheadedness in the many arguments that do break out, usually over Henry's desire for them to give up any part of their life that distracts from him.
Under no circumstances is Butch to know that Henry has a partner, let alone meet them. He would rather die than have them see what a so-called coward he becomes around his father, and the thought of them being caught in the crossfire of one of his father's explosions makes him want to stick the knife in Butch's throat a little sooner.
At the first sign of Butch's approach, Henry pulls away from his partner and tells them that if things get heated, they should go with Victor and wait for him at a distance. Victor is disturbed by Henry's extreme view of the relationship but is wise enough not to say so to his face.
Watching his partner suffer abuse at the hands of a family member ignites a rage in Henry that stems from his unfulfilled desire to take revenge on his father. He flashes back to when Butch similarly hurt him, reopening the last wound he tried to numb by avoiding his home and seeking out his partner. Every punch Henry lands, every slash with the knife, is almost like getting back at his father for all the scars he gave him.
Henry refuses to feel remorse for those he attacks, as Butch would never apologise for the damage he inflicts and once even rewarded Henry for his violent actions. After making his partner drop a science project in the hallway, the child he forced to eat dirt had it coming. The classmate who sat next to his partner at lunch - a seat reserved for Henry, regardless of whether anyone else knows it or whether he feels like taking it that day - deserved to be thrown to the floor and humiliated in a way that will haunt them forever.
Competition, real or imagined, is unforgivable and will be met with swift, if not disproportionate, retaliation. The first line of defence is a barrage of verbal abuse, escalating to physical assault unless the pest flees the scene and swears an oath never to speak to his partner again. From there, Henry will order his cohorts to hold the person still while he carves, stones, drowns and breaks whatever he finds most offensive.
Part of a community that frowns upon physical closeness between friends, Henry seeks in this relationship the emotional intimacy and affection that his father never provided. He denies having such needs when anyone suggests otherwise, insisting that he only stays with his partner for superficial reasons and would not miss them if they were to disappear one day.
Despite his claims of indifference, Henry displays a violent resentment towards those who befriend his partner, perceiving these individuals as a threat to his importance in their life. This fear speaks to his underlying insecurity of not being in control, the same insecurity that drives him to suspect the worst in people and defend or assert himself accordingly.
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Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!
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roadkill-writes · 8 months
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Bowers gang (Remember when) Part 4
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This is part 4 of the continuation of the bowers gang series I started a long long while ago.
Pairings: bowers gang X fem!reader
Word count: Five pages , 1.7k words
Warnings: swearing, Harsh language, reader being naked and trapped in a bathroom
Hand still clutching the door handle of the bathroom as you heart pounded in your chest. The sound of their laughter still echoing around the room and your brain. You couldn’t help but ponder on how you got yourself into this mess of standing naked and afraid while four boys stood in your homes hallway laughing about you and this situation. Oh yes right, thank you Mrs.Peterson. You thought sarcastically that she was in fact the entire reason you were stuck stranded in your own bathroom.
You could just about hear the smirk plastered on Patrick’s face as he spoke from behind the door, “Come on princess we only wanna peak.���  He pounded his fist against the door in a slow menacing way as if he knew were trying to strick free into your chest. Which he was successful at.
Your heart began to hammer away in your chest as if you were a lamb being led to slaughter. The little pig standing inside while the wolf huffs and puffs the house down. The helpless little fawn looking for it’s mother after it’s been shot but a hunter. The helpless little girl standing naked in her bathroom while the monsters stand on the other side laughing maniacally. 
“I’m being serious this time go away!” Shouting at them like one would at a wild raccoon eating out of the garbage trying to ward it off. “This isn’t funny!” 
“Okay hear me out!” Victor tried to reason with you from behind the door. He always behaved like the saving grace most of the time even though he’s just as stuck up as the rest of them. “We take a few steps back and you can grab your towel off the floor?” He spoke as it was almost supposed to be a question. 
“And just how am I supposed to believe you’d all do that, especially Patrick?” 
“I pinky promise sweetheart.” Victor gave his signature three gentle taps on the door. Opening the door just a enough to stick your hand through you stuck up your pinky finger in solidarity, feeling his pinky finger wrap around yours in a lock of faith you quickly let go and knelt down to grab your towel in a hurry pulling it through the crack in the door fast enough as you quickly slammed the door closed accidentally closing the corner of the towel in the crack having to open it back up and pulling it through. 
Slamming the door back in place you tightly wrapped the towel around your body your hair still partially dripping wet reminding you of the peaceful shower that you do sadly had to get out of.  
Reaching for the doorknob it was cold to the touch, the hinges making an eerie creaking sound as it was pulled open to reveal an empty hallway. As if the the boys were never standing there to begin with. 
Gently on your top toes you began slowly making your way down the hall to your bedroom some of the floor boards groaned as you stepped on them. Even after all the times of sneaking out of the house you had failed to remember which parts of the floor to avoid, but this was an old house it wasn’t abnormal for the house to make unsettling noises every now and then so your parents never thought anything of it. 
Tip toeing into the room you tried extremely hard to close the door without a creak or groan but it was to no avail. The door let out a wail and you recoiled into yourself at the sound. If the boys were still here you didn’t want them knowing you left the bathroom without being able to at least get dressed first. Twisting the lock and letting out a breathe of relief while closing your eyes, leaning your back up against the door for a moment of silence for the most part as you could hear those four boys downstairs making enough rowdy noise it sounds like they’re destroying the house.
Your dresser stood off to the side of the room up against the wall next to your closet, the clear coat over the stain has seen its better days. Your closet was small the trifold door was an off white color wishing to see a new coat of white paint. But none the less you dug around in both looking for something suitable to wear while still being comfortable, just as you were about to pull your shirt over your head to complete the new outfit a loud banging came from behind your closet door. Pausing with your shirt around your neck as if to see if you were hearing things.
Another loud bang came from the closet this time you hurried to put your shirt on the rest of the way and find something to use as a weapon, thankfully Vic had gifted you a bat not to long ago after smashing mailboxes one night. Sweaty hands gripped the bat as you hesitated to move any closer towards the closet. 
This doesn’t make any sense as you were just in your closet looking for clothes, you continued trying to justify that you’re going crazy. 
At this point the banging was getting louder your closet door shaking at the sheer force of it. Taking slow wide steps towards the door using one hand to grip the bat and another to reach for the small knob of the door. Swinging the door open you were greeted with the darkness of the small entry way lined with clothes. Again another sigh of relief slouching over slightly as you lowered the bat and turned to walk away.
tap 
tap 
tap 
Your body burst out in goose bumps as you froze in place. There was nothing there remember just your clothes there isn’t anything to be freaking out about. It’s just the boys downstairs trying to freak you out again. You gained your confidence and turned back around to prove to yourself that there was in fact nothing there that your brain was scaring itself.
Your blood ran cold and the color drained from your face when your eyes landed on the object in question. Another RED balloon. You were absolutely frozen in fear, stomach has since dropped. Maybe you were dreaming no not dreaming having a nightmare. Maybe you had fallen asleep after your shower. 
Your suspicion was quickly thrown out the window when a gloved hand had reached out of the depths of the closet to grab ahold of the door frame, then came the second hand coming out of the shadows to grab the door frame on the other side. You wanted to run but you couldn’t move frozen in shock and fear. 
What ever was attached to those hands slowly acceded out of the darkness stepping into the full light of your bedroom it’s body was tall and frail the fiery red hair stood tall on top of its head, it’s mouth was in the form of an opened mouth smile barely fitting the rows and rows of teeth contained in its large mouth. The tattered and dirty costume that was adorned on its body the sight of your worst nightmares. This was a fucking clown. You fucking hated clowns. 
Their shoes always so big, their cars always so small. No one’s nose should be able to honk, and the painted on faces were a sight for sore eyes. You could go on for hours on your thoughts and opinions on why you hated clowns but you had bigger things to be worrying about, literally.
The clown towered over you its mouth dripping with slobber as it salivated at the sight of you. 
“I know what you did.” It spoke in a slow aggressive tone. Shaking your head no in fear, “ I-I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your voice came out in a stutter, you had began to sound like Bill Denbrough the boy who’s little brother disappeared.
The clowns grin began to widen, “Oh yes, you do I know what you’ve done.” You couldn’t even begin to actually rack your brain on what it could be talking about but surely by now you’ve gone insane. You continued to shake your head no in fear trying to make it believe that maybe it had gotten the wrong person. But who were you kidding it’s just your luck you’ve got a crazy clown standing in front of you in your bedroom. 
You sincerely had no idea what the clown was trying to get at but all you knew is you needed to run away now. Turning on your heels your sprinted to the door grabbing onto the handle and throwing the door open so hard it it the wall behind it. 
Taking off in a sprint down the hallway towards the stairs, you could hear the clown laughing hysterically from behind you as you heard his loud shoes making contact with the wooden floor.  Racing down the wooden steps you called out to the boys.
”Henry! Vic! Reggie! Patrick! Help me please!” You screams bounced off every wall in the house but you were alone again. You leapt off last three steps feet landing hard  quickly turning to run towards the living room in search of your saviors. They were no where to be found. The clown was hot on your heels as you sprinted towards the back door struggling with the lock as you tried twisting the handle to freedom looking over your shoulder constantly, swinging the door open and pushing through the storm door you continued into a sprint right off the back porch. Feet padded around in the soft dewy grass as you heaved for a breath as your lungs burned for air. 
You let out another cry for help as you reached the tree line for the forest. “Henry please help! Please I’m begging!” Taking another look over your shoulder you realized nothing was following you anymore, and that you didn’t have shoes on.
You made the conscious decision that it probably wouldn’t be the safest to go back home so you went in the direction you knew like the back of your hand. 
The Bowers property.
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Tag list: @lucky-lem0ns @scarlets-phases @talitasls-blog @fuckshitslover @blossom221 @disneylover1998 @kyuupidwrites @jiroumyluv
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𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝟎'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: mention of one slur, (that is reclaimable don't come for me twitter), homophobia, death, etc
↳ song: american pie—don mclean
masterlist!
• Compared to the old giants that were London and Rome, Derry was an infant in terms of age
• But it didn't feel that way. The whole town had this sort of tint to it, like the stain of coffee on white paper—or the quality of an old polaroid that had been stuffed away and forgotten
• You had lived there most of your life. Gone to Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, would go on to attend Derry High, and would probably travel on to the closest college you could find to the area—unless something drastically changed that, of course
• It was almost like the whole place had a grip on its residents. And it wasn't like the comforting grip of your mother's hand as she led you through the grocery store. It was a harsher one. A cold and clamy grip, holding you tightly in place until you rotted away working a minimum wage job with no future in sight
• So thank god you had stumbled across the losers in your last year of middle school and changed just about everything
• It had been the last week of school when you had stupidly picked a fight with the biggest knothead in school and his gang of pimple faced idiots, figuring that if you were going to die anyway, might as well do it young
• Your school books had gone sprawling across the freshly waxed school hallway one fateful afternoon in May, the disaster courtesy of Derrys biggest doucuebag Henry Bowers
• In fact, you had told him he was such a thing to his face, which would be the reason you were currently being subjected to the pleasure of watching as Henry and his goons ripped up all of your school papers in front of everyone
• Math homework, eat your heart out
• You didn't, however, expect a stuttering voice to speak up from your left not long after watching the science paper you had worked so hard on get ripped to shreds
• "Guh-guh-guh-get fu-fucked Bowers!" A lanky kid spat out from your left, drawing most people's attention over to his blazing brown eyes instead of Henry's ugly mud colored ones
• You recognized your knight in shining armor, so to speak, as the infamous stuttering Bill Denbrough. He wasn't an unfamiliar face to you—in fact, you were pretty sure the two of you had homeroom together. But until that moment you'd never given him a second thought beyond asking to borrow a pencil
• Bill wasn't alone, either. Three more kids stood idly behind him, each one looking more anxious than the last. You'd later learn all their names to be Stan, Eddie, and Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier—the man of a hundered voices as he'd introduce himself. But right then, they were just more people to add to this already overcrowded shitshow
• "Muh-my buh-buh-bad Billy." Henry mocked Bill's stutter poorly, crossing his eyes crudely while he did it. "Duh-did I mess with one of yuh-your fag fruh-fruh-fruh-friends?"
• The shrill chorus of giggles that his friends let out at his words were like nails on a chalkboard to you
• "Takes one to know one." Richie had mummbled under his breath sourly, pushing the thick glasses he wore up his nose anxiously. The only people who heard him couldn't help but break up into a fit of sudden giggles—who of which just so happened to be you and Bill
• Both of you were found sporting black eyes the next day
• Ever since that odd school day, you had found yourself spending more and more time with each of them
• Riding bikes with Bill in his street as you got left in the dust by him and Silver, listening as Eddie rambled on nervously about all of the weird sicknesses he had gotten, furiously smashing buttons on arcade games in an attempt to beat Richie at least once, helping Stan organize all of his comics by color and alphabetical order—all became a part of your summer routine
• You quickly became a part of the losers club. Another peice to the odd puzzle you all made together. And you'd be lying if you didn't say it felt damn good
• It was only after Ben and the others showed up that things began to get both better and worse
• For starters, you had begun to see red balloons and dead kids everywhere—a detail that would later become a much bigger issue
• But you also found yourself making three entire new friends, which including Stan, Eddie, Richie and Bill, was the most you'd ever had
• Hot summer evenings down in the barrens and, eventually, the clubhouse now had a new sense of comradery to it
• You enjoyed talking with Beverly about certain book series the both of you kept up with and what songs she could play on the piano. Asking Mike about all the adventures he had gone on after hard days of farm work became a highlight of your Saturdays. Pouring over books in the library with Ben quickly became one of your favorite activities, the two of you sharing recommendations with each other. Even the librarian eventually got old of the two of you whispering excitedly to each other about story lines and character development
• Occasionally Bill or Richie would bring another kid down to the barrens to play with. It would be fun, but you all were thinking the same thing throught it all—that they were not a part of the club. That title was reserved for only the eight of you. And it would stay that way
• Together, all of you would eventually have to beat a common enemy together, sacrificing parts of yourself with it. But for now, you were content to watch as sticky syrup from popsicle sticks dripped down into your hands while you all walked to the movies, laughing about god knows what, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but each other
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bella-goths-wife · 2 months
Note
What would happen if Ballerina reader started to take a liking to Belch more than the others? Like the others can't find her one day and now that they think about it they haven't seen belch either. They find them just having time together ballerina reader doing sweet things for him?
(I love Belch, he's my favorite.)
Yandere bowers gang reactions to ballerina reader preferring belch
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Warnings: physical abuse, verbal abuse, forced relationships, sexual abuse, psychological abuse, injuries
I do not intend to romanticise or encourage any of the following warnings, my writing is solely for entertainment and informational purposes. I do not support or condone any and all abuse and I do not believe in any of the various themes I write about
Henry bowers:
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Henry is the first to notice that you and belch had been spending a lot of time together
At first he brushed it off as belch being the ‘safest’ option for you
After all, Henry was physically abusive and unpredictable, Patrick was a sexually abuse sociopath and vic was a possessive and obsessive abuser
So Henry justified the amount of time you spent with belch as him simply being the least likely to hurt you unpredictably
But it’s when you start putting up more of a fight he becomes more aware of the fact that belch could actually be a threat
Henry had made it clear to the group from day one that even though they all were in a relationship with you, Henry was the one who owned you
And he made it clear that he would be the one to eventually marry you and have children with you after high school
And one of these ways he made it clear was that he would demand that every now and again that you would have a night with just him and you
The nights could be random or they could be a set in stone date, it depended on the month really
It mostly depended on if he thought he was losing control, he would force the command in place to remind everyone of where they stood on the hierarchy
So when he set a date in stone for a private night of just you and him, and you came and asked for the night to be rescheduled because it was belchs birthday? Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased
He didn’t even know it was belchs birthday despite knowing him since childhood, so why on earth would he let you reschedule if the cause was unimportant to him?
He denied your request and made it a point to be extra rough with you as a punishment
After that he made it so you and belch didn’t get to spend as much time together as usual by sending belch off on pointless errands and keeping you close to him at all times by optimising PDA
He will also act extremely cold and rude to belch
And because belch is sickeningly loyal and utterly manipulated by Henry, this will make him desperate to please Henry
So Henry will use this as an advantage to slowly build a wedge between you and belch to avoid belch getting the idea that you could be taken away from Henry
Patrick Hockstetter:
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Patrick remained uncaring of your preference to belch until it directly affected him
Sure, he saw that you were more affectionate with belch and that you hung around him more than the others when you could
But he didn’t care about that
For the early days with your forced relationship, Patrick just views any affection as foreplay
So he saw this as belch completing the meaningless tasks of a relationship while Patrick got to enjoy the rewards
You were doing your best to manipulate Patrick for a while, so whenever he sought you out for sex you would act enthusiastically
Patrick was loving your new attitude about having sex with him, until you suddenly stopped being enthusiastic
It was like reverting back to day 1 as he had to force himself onto you to gain any sexual pleasure
During this instance, he spotted something on your thighs
There were dark, hickey like bruising around your thighs along side what looked like bite marks
Now, he knew they couldn’t be from Henry because of the night he got so high and admitted to Patrick that he tried to force himself onto you but couldn’t because the act reminded him of what happened to his mother
A confession that Patrick had been threatened to secrecy about
And he knew that vic couldn’t have done it because he was on the receiving end of Henry’s punishment of not being able to see you for a month after he got mouthy about how Henry hogged you
So that left, belch
It all clicked in Patrick’s mind
For weeks now you’d been denying Patrick’s advances and made up excuses to make him adverse for a short time
All that time, you’d evidently been fucking belch and you didn’t want Patrick to know
This enraged him
You gave something up to belch enthusiastically and happily that Patrick had to force you to give to him and you were always so withdraw during the act
It wasn’t fair to Patrick
He was higher than belch in the hierarchy, so why was belch receiving all the benefits even though he was a third tier member of the group
He thought over the possibility that belch had forced himself onto you, but Patrick knew that was highly unlikely because of how much belch adored you
The entire situation prompted Patrick to punish you with extremely rough treatment during sec and also running to Henry to report his findings
This gained belch a ban from seeing you for two months because of ‘disrespect to the hierarchy’ and it gained you a harsh beating off of Henry for not acting ‘pleasantly’ with Patrick
Patrick couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of belch pathetically trailing his eyes up and down your beaten figure with the same look as a kicked puppy who just got put outside for the night
And he couldn’t help the even smugger smirk spread across his face when Henry ordered for you to spend the night with Patrick to apologise
Because Patrick could always trust that his place as second in command in the group would always gain him more benefits
One of which would be making Henry do his dirty work, while he patiently waits until he finds out something of interest to tell him
Vic criss
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Vic noticed your preference for belch the minute it spawned
He noticed how belch was the only one allowed to touch in you in certain ways without you flinching, how you would fix him up after he got a punishment from Henry
You never did that for vic
He noticed how you would smile for belch
That smile, the smile that could launch a thousand ships to battle
A smile you rarely gave to any of them
But you gave one to belch after he asked you about your newest ballet routine
How come belch got a smile and vic didn’t? That’s not fair!
It brought back the constant memories of when him and belch were younger and belch would break all of vic’s toys just to spite him
Is that what belch is doing now?
Is he using you like vic’s old toys? And is he going to break you the same way he broke them?
He deludes himself into thinking that you needed to be protected from belch
Obviously belch just wants to use you, he doesn’t love you like vic loves you
None of them do
He’d become frantically violent with you, you’d end up with bruises covering your arms from his desperate grips on them to keep you by vic’s side
Vic’s not stupid by any means, he knows that belch being the muscle of the group puts him above vic in the groups hierarchy
That puts vic in fourth in command, only above you
He knows that demanding Henry do something wouldn’t work because Henry trusts and likes belch more than him, all it would do is get vic punished and let belch know of his motives
I’d say that out of all the boys, he is the one to take his anger out on you mostly because he knows the groups dynamic doesn’t grant him the privilege of taking out his aggression on belch
That mixed with his constant possessive behaviour makes me believe that vic is the most likely to try and kill belch out of a jealous and possessive rage
He’d either end up killing belch and the other boys would turn on him or belch would end up killing him and the other boys would help him cover up the murder
Either way your wants or needs would not be factored into the equation, you follow them like a stray dog and you’ll spare yourself an isolated and painful few months
Belch Huggins
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Belch already adores you
You were practically the first person to acknowledge him in a positive way, the first person to make him feel awestruck just a the sight of your pretty smile
So when you start to act sweeter to him and you do small things for him that you don’t do for the others?
He’s over joyed, literal heart eyes whenever he looks at you
But he isn’t as stupid as he knows everyone thinks he is
He knows that your preference is dangerous to both you and him
He’d try and be crueler to you in the hopes of pushing you away slightly, but without Henry’s command he doesn’t have the strength to hurt you
It would be like a lion playing with his food, so the proud lion would let the fearful mouse run back home
Now just because he’s absolutely head over heels for you, does not mean he’s not still very manipulated by Henry
So if Henry spotted the preference, he’d make belch the person to carry out your physical punishments
It would kill belch to hurt you but he had to, didn’t he?
Small seeds of doubt would enter belchs mind, and they would grow bigger and bigger as the other boys became ruder to him out of jealousy
If we were going down the route of reader manipulating belch for personal gain, they would encourage the doubt until belch felt resentment towards his friends
And if he didn’t escape with you, he’d eventually snap
And he’d definitely snap during one of your punishments
He’d watch as one of the boys hurt you and his usual sorrowful aching feelings would be replaced by an unbridled rage at your cries of agony
It would be an instant reaction to protect and defend
He’d kill all of them or he’d die trying
If he survives, he’ll escape with you and live on the run
And while he’s still abusive, it’s mostly psychological and emotional so he’s the lesser of two evils
If he dies trying, Henry would force you to dig belch’s grave and would claim that it was all your fault
And you’d be in for the roughest punishment you’d ever received
So you’d better pray that belch wins
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amber-michaelson · 1 year
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Yandere Bowers Gang
Poly bowers gang x reader
How the act during class
Read at own risk and
Warning: public play
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Henry Bowers
He would be zoned out half the time always staring out the window, the teacher not daring to call him out but as soon as he hears you whisper or feels a slight touch all attention is on you and if your hungry during class he's always got a snack in his bag, belch knows you get snacky so he gives everyone treats to put in their bag so you'll have something and if your concerned about him zoning out he'll give you a slight smile and say 'it's nothing focus back on the class' before zoning out again thinking of how he got so lucky.
Patrick Hockstetter
He would be the complete opposite he would distract you either with dirty whispers of what he's gonna do to you when you get home or with his fingers inside your pants teasing you and chuckling as you bite your lip to suppress a moan or when he's feeling horny he'll grab your hand and shove it into his pants and make you jerk him off and trust me he's OK if his moans out loud he's not ashamed but at the end of the class he'll take you to the janitors closet and fuck you on all fours.
Victor Criss
He's the shy one in the relationship and is outright as the others so during class don't expect much chitchat but instead linked pinkys under the table as his show of affection and him stealing glances as your focused on your work chuckling to himself as you get to a hard question he always finds you adorable when you focus, he snags a few pics and shows the boys later when your asleep between them.
Reginald 'Belch' Huggins
He would help you take notes and ask every few minutes if you understand what the teacher said and always made sure you were well hydrated and full he knows how henry and patrick can be horny sometimes and takes you somewhere to fuck you so he always has everything you need extra panties and pants because he knows Patrick likes to leave you leaking with his cum, make up incase henry makes you cry while he's trusting into your mouth and your perfume so you don't smell like them don't get me wrong he doesn't mind it but it gets overwhelming sometimes.
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girlystories · 6 months
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L'appel du vide (The call of the void)
— pairings: Henry Bowers + Patrick Hockstetter x female/daughter of a cop/new student reader
Summary: after your parents divorce (because your mom is kinda crazy) you move to your dads hometown, back to Derry, and your cousin richie. Additional warnings: refrences of past child abuse Words: 4.1k
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Chapter 1: Back to Derry
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑 slowed down as it stopped at a gas station. The driver's door opened, which caused [Name] to wake up. She raised her head, which was earlier rested on her palm. She blinked her eyes, trying to make out what her father was saying to her. 
"I said, do you want me to get you anything?", he repeated, his hand on the door as he slouched and his head under the car, waiting for her answer. 
"Uh," she slurred her words, yawning as she stretched her arms, a satisfying feeling passing through her body to wake her up while the sun was making it difficult for her to think of what to say. "Just some water please."
Her father gave her a thumbsup before turning around. 
"On second thought, I'm kinda hungry. Can I have a sandwich?", she called out from the rolled down window. 
Her father made his way inside, as [Name] shifted in her seat, her arms laying comfortable under her head. She sighed as she stared out the window, not focusing on anything in particular, yet caughting a glimpse of a man filling his car. 
She and her father we're making their way to Derry, Maine, back to their relatives. Despite feeling excited to see her cousin again, she didn't really approve on moving so suddenly. She would miss her friends, her school – heck, even the grumpy teachers and lousy neighbours. 
There was no way of changing her dad's mind, however, since he was so eager to start a new life. She couldn't blame him, though. She and the poor guy couldn't handle the decrease in her mother's sanity any longer. She only grew worse day by day, and it was final once she laid hands on her. Her eyes were unrecognizable, wide and furiously red, as she had her fingers wrapped around [Name]'s throat, squeezing it tight with demise. 
Luckily, she was shoved back and restrained by her father, who later called the police on her and she was taken into court when found out she was abusing drugs, finally filling a divorce and in the end she was send to an asylum. 
This made [Name] wonder if that woman even loved her in the first place. As she thought about it more overtime, she recalled the times her mother gave her the cold shoulder, or the nasty remarks she hissed – tasting like venom on her tensed dry lips. The glaring looks she gave her, feeling like piercing needles ready to strike. 
[Name] instantly wiped some tears that were forming on her eyes, placing a smile on her face as her dad made his way back, bringing with him the stuff he bought. 
He closed the door as he sat on the driver's seat, holding the bag for [Name] to take. "As you ordered, madam. Sandwich and a bottle of water," he teased. 
She chuckled. "Oh, why thank you, kind sir," she said before taking a big bite of the chicken sandwich. "Man, I'm so hungry."
"Well, you should've prepared some food from home for the ride," he said, taking a cigarette out of his new pack, placing it on his lips, and turning the engine back on – which roared back alive, going backwards and on the road back to Derry. "I told you in the morning but you ignored me." 
She rolled her eyes, not in the mood for bickering at the moment, instead changing the question. "So like, you gonna be working as a cop at Derry now?" 
"Policeman, not a cop, [Name]. And yes, I've taken care of it on the phone," his eyes were focused on the road, taking a turn. "A guy of mine was kind enough to brag about my services back home."
[Name] hummed, not particularly interested in listening to the conversation, instead taking a moment to appreciate her hunger decreasing, savoring the chicken in contrast with the sauce and the variety of spices. 
She looked out the window, trees passing as they were now driving through the dirt road. The wind blew through her hair, a breeze filling the car. 
Her father remained silent for a moment and he sighed. "Listen, sweetheart, I know it's hard for you moving away and all but I'm sure you'll have a great time there and settle down nicely," he smiled as he recalled memories of his hometown. "Besides, you'll catch up with little Richie again." 
"Well, I'm sure he's not little anymore. How many years has it been? Like five, six?", she tried to count, licking her fingers in doing so. "How old is that little prick now anyway?"
"[Name], watch your language please," her father said and she giggled in response. "I think he's about thirteen or twelve. Three years younger than you." 
"I'm sixteen, dad." 
"Thirteen then." 
"Oh my god, dad. Did you really not remember the age of your own daughter?" 
He lifted his fingers holding the lighted cigarette off the wheel in defense. "No, I didn't forget your age, honey. I'm just, really tired at the moment." 
She shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, right."
"I mean it." 
"Whatever you say can't save you now, dad." 
He chuckled. "Really now?"
"Yes," she replied blankly, now finishing her sandwich. 
   Finally arriving, she took out one of her earplugs and pausing her music, raised her head to look around her new "home". Crippled narrow roads filled with puddles, with short trees that looked hardly standing by the constant floods and hurricanes. She almost cringed at the almost rundown looking buildings. 
What eased her nerves were the stores here and there, them being: Brew & Chew Café, Doughy Delights Pizzeria, and Smile N’ Delight. Her eyes also caught a glimpse of the arcade, and she was sure Richie would probably spend his time there, playing aimlessly like his life depended on it. Not like she planned on going there, but still. It proved the existence that people lived there and it wasn't as deserted as it seemed. 
"Are we there?" 
"Sure are," he answered, searching for his sisters house. He smiled, "nothing has changed a bit."
"We haven't been gone that much for anything to change. I mean who even comes here anymore?"
Her father ignored her remark, taking a turn and slowing down as they reached that all familiar house [Name] hang out to when she was younger. They came to a stop and he got out of the car, while [Name] did the same, yet not so eager. 
"Wentworth! How long has it been?", her father said as the front door opened, her uncle grabbing his palm and patting him on the back. 
"You tell me," her uncle replied. "You were the one who decided to move out." 
He chuckled. "Well, [Mother Name] wouldn't stop pressuring me and all. You know how she was." 
This made [Name]'s aunt's smile fade, feeling somehow remorseful. "Ah, I'm so sorry about that, [Father Name]... We couldn't believe it when you told us all about it on the phone," her eyes looked at [Name], making her smile widely, her eyes wrinkling at the sides as they widened. She exclaimed and she walked over to her with raised arms, squeezing her cheeks which made [Name] groan slightly. Yet she didn't mind it much, always appreciating her aunt's weird ways of affection. 
"Little [Name]! Ah, I can't believe how much you've grown. You're basically a lady now!", she noted, placing her palms on her shoulders and taking a better look at her, taking her time to "fix" her shirt and hair. 
[Name] chuckled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. "Hey, missed you too, Aunt Maggie. Uh, is Richie home?" 
"Oh, yes," she turned around, "Richie, get your ass here!"
After a few annoyed grumbles, a boy with dark hair came down the stairs. [Name] noted his increase in height and glasses who seemed to be thicker than how she remembered, making his eyes appear way bigger. He still had a couple of freckles drawn on his slighty chubby cheeks – even though he had a relatively slim figure. She threw an arm over his shoulder, snickering at his annoyance and trying to get off her hold.
"How's my little blabbermouth been?", she remarked and forced him into a hug. He groaned in response, mostly by the nickname but returning the hug happily. 
"You haven't changed a bit, asswipe," he replied with the same tone. Still, his grip tightened around her. "You were still missed, though. As much as I hate to admit it." 
That made her smile, and she let go of him, "Aw," she cooed. "I'm flattered, but it's very much expected," she replied proudly. 
"Ha ha," Richie stated, his tone linked full of sarcasm. "Just make sure you stay this time," he scoffed, "I remember when you had to leave last time you were crying your eyes out. Your nose was full of snot and stuff. Gross." 
[Name] narrowed her eyes, raising her brow. "That's not true. I don't ever recall that happening."
"Well, I do," he rolled his wide eyes behind his thick square glasses, smirking. "Right, mom?" 
"Huh? What did you say, sweetie?", she asked, not listening to him in the slightest, too absorbed in the conversation with her husband and brother. 
"Nevermind," Richie rumbled. "Say, you wanna join me and my friends? Oh – I forgot to mention – remember Bill? Well, we are now in a group with two other guys and we call ourselves The Losers Club, and it's freaking awesome!" 
[Name] couldn't help but laugh. "The Losers Club? That sounds... pretty lame." 
"That's the point, genius," he rolled his eyes again. "The thing is, you gotta join us, we always have so much fun and stuff." 
"Maybe another time, kiddo. I'm pretty tired and I gotta start unpacking and I need get ready for school tomorrow. I've missed enough as it is."
Richie groaned. "Fineee. But you will come with us one day, I'm telling you." 
[Name] ruffled his hair. "Okay okay, I get it!" 
"Augh! Not the hair, man! Not cool", he tried to push her hand away, but to no avail as she wrapped an arm around his neck and continued in forcefully ruining his curly locks. 
 
   The next day [Name] was woken up but her father, completely ignoring her alarm clock at 6:30 am. She groaned and placed a pillow over her head, trying to block out her father's cheery but annoying voice through the kitchen. 
She had to get up, though, when her father made his way into her bedroom and forcefully throwing the covers off her – much to her dismay. She raised her upper body, holding her weight with her elbows. Her eyes were puffy and red, a trail of drool beginning from her bottom lip and ending at her chin. A sight Richie would definitely make fun of, but he was in the same spot, as her dad did the same, but instead chose to grab Richie and spin him around, just like the way parents played with their month-old babies. 
Richie – fully confused, and instead of cheering like a baby would – almost shrieked, his legs swaying back and forth, looking for a sturdy ground to balance himself and his arms trying to get a tight grip on his uncle. Without wearing his glasses, he wasn't able to see clearly, screaming: "What the hell is going on?!" 
[Name]'s dad, not reducing his speed in the slightest, continued, "Wake up, big guy! You're gonna miss school!" 
Richie, steadying his breath, replied, "Okay okay, I get it! Just get me down! For the love of—" 
Just as he requested, his uncle complied, a satisfied smile on his features. He slapped his nephew's back lightly. "Come to the kitchen quick. I've prepared breakfast." 
[Name] still in her bed – but not daring to lay back down, (in fear of her dad shaking her awake again) stared blankly at the wall, ignoring the commotion from Richie's room completely. She rubbed her half closed eyes, and dragged herself out of bed, choosing a simple and convenient outfit for the day, since her stuff and wardrobe hadn't been delivered in their new home fully yet. She grabbed her almost empty backpack, which contained only her pencil case and a couple of notebooks, and she slowly made her way to the kitchen, dropping on her seat feeling like a zombie. She tried to rest her heavy head on her palm, yet it fell on the table sharply. 
"Ah ah," her father scolded. "Wake up, sweetie. It's your first day today." 
She groaned in response. 
"I'll give you a ride to school, so eat quick. I have work to get to," he explained further, flipping an egg from the pan. 
"I'm sorry but how can you be so excited so early in the morning, uncle? I mean, no offense," Richie asked from the table, rubbing his glasses with his shirt. He turned to [Name], "is he always like this?" 
She grabbed a toast from the table, which was applied with butter smoothly, and took a bite, her eyes still half closed. "Yes."
"Damn."
   After a quick – and not so satisfying breakfast, Mr. [Last Name] gave the both a ride and went to work. For the first time Richie wasn't late. A rare occurance, mainly because he took ages to get ready but also because both his parents weren't able to drive him to school because of work. 
"Well, I guess I'll see you later, asswipe," Richie held up his palm for a high-five. [Name] looked at him unfazed, almost rolling her eyes, clearly not in the mood so early in the morning. Still, she didn't leave him hanging and groaned under her breath. 
"Remember, don't steal food from the cafeteria."
"Don't you mean, don't do drugs – or something?" 
[Name] walked pass him, pushing her body on the school's front entrance. "Whate—", before she could finish, she felt a heavy force colliding against her. She yelped in response, being shoved backwards.
The person groaned in annoyance, also surprised by the sudden force. "What the fu—", the voice suddenly paused. [Name] took a moment to study the person. He was tall, his blonde hair messily styled in a mullet. His blue eyes were staring back at her, also studying her. His seemengly muscular built wasn't as apparent under his t-shirt which was being covered under his denim jacket, his sleeves being pushed high above his elbows. It was more of a fashion choice than an affect to keep warm in the cold weather of October. 
She didn't know how long they kept eye contact, but it came to a stop as his features furrowed, pursing his lips. He shoved pass her, his shoulder bumping into hers while he mumbled under his breath: "Get outta my way." 
She scoffed in response, raising a brow and walking into the halls, Richie following quickly behind her. "Oh my god," he gasped. 
"What?", she questioned, looking around for the principal's office. 
"You just ran into Henry Bowers!", he explained. 
"I didn't ran into him. More like he bumped into me." 
He quickly shook his head. "That's not the point, dumbass," he walked in front of her, making her stop in her tracks to get her attention. "The point is that he and his lovely little friends have been making our lives hell for how many years now. I'm honestly surprised he didn't murder you just now."
"He what?", [Name] asked, her eyes finally widening since this morning. 
"Yeah," Richie said, beginning to walk again with her by his side, passing the other students in the halls as they chatted among themselves. "They're all complete psychos."
"How did you say his name was? Henry Bowers, was it?", she asked and slowed down when she noticed the principal's office in the corner. "Where have I heard of it before?" 
"Man, I don't know. But I'm telling you. Just don't make him mad. Ever." 
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it, big guy," she said, shifting her backpack as the school bell rang. She made herself a new goal for the year. 
Richie raised a brow. "What do you mean? I don't like that look," he noted. 
"Just, go to class, okay? I'll see you guys later," she shoved him softly, and he stumbled a bit, glancing back at her with a bit of worry, but made his way to class. 
She didn't know how and why that guy seemed so familiar to her, but she didn't care either. No one is allowed to make fun of her cousin. No one. Except maybe her, but they were family. It's understandable. But him? Who did he think he is? 
She decided to keep an eye on him and his stupid mullet. 
[Name] was about to knock the open door but stopped when she saw a lanky guy staring at the principal blankly, his mind wandering off and not paying the slightest attention to him. The principal sighed, his hand waved towards the door, dismissing him as he finished, "that's about it. If you and Bowers get send here one more time, I'll have to take drasting measures. You'll get a pass this time. Mainly because it's your first time, Hockstetter. Now get your ass to class." 
The guy in question – Hockstetter, as he was mentioned – fixed his posture at the statement, the corners of his mouth forming into a smile. He left without question, his grey-green eyes meeting [Name]'s as he walked pass the door, twinkling with curiosity. She swore she saw him lick his bottom lip just as he left. 
"And make sure Bowers actually goes to class this time!", the principal shouted and [Name] wondered if his orders even reached the guy's ears. 
So this guy is one Richie's bullies, [Name] noted. 
She decided to keep that in mind later as she walked inside. The principal held the bridge of his nose, sighing. When he noticed her, he grasped his hands together as he tried to recall her name. He remained with only parted lips as he failed in figuring out who she was. 
"Hello, Mr – uh," she trailed off, trying to remember his name that her dad mentioned on the ride. "Mr. Corbin, I'm the new student. I think my father spoke to you on the phone." 
His features softened, bringing a hand on his grey and combed hair. "Ah, yes! Mr. [Last Name], I believe. Yes, I've got your schedule prepared right here," he said, rolling back with his chair and opening his drawer, taking out a paper and handing it to [Name]. "It was pretty much a hassle trying to sort your lessons, since you arrived a bit later, but eventually we managed."
She whispered a soft "Sorry" in response. 
"How very nice for us to welcome a new student. I hope you like it here. Ah, did you move here recently, miss [Last Name]?" 
She quickly skimmed over her schedule, and looked back at Mr. Corbin. "Yes. Yesterday actually."
"I see," he replied, fixing his mustache. "Well, I hope you settle down nicely. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to finish," he rolled on his chair forward, placing his hands together once again. "If you need any help, don't be afraid to come to my office."
[Name] smiled at him. "Thank you so much, Mr. Corbin," she said and walked out, looking over her schedule. She hummed, feeling not so glum about it, only groaning when she saw she had to chose an extracurricular, but also hoping there were good options to chose from at the very least. She noticed a note, written roughly with a pen; locker: 74. 
She made her own inner note to check it out later. 
Now, she hurried herself to her first period, being World History. It took her while to find the class, and she was sure she'd get some nagging from the teacher. She hesitantly knocked on the door and slowly opened it. Peeking over the gap, she noticed all the students attention being on her. She stepped inside, clearing her throat. 
"Sorry I'm late, Mr –", she looked at her schedule, "Mr. Okley." 
Mr. Okley stopped writing on the board, turning his focus on her. "It's okay, I suppose," his voice indicated his boredom which were proved by his uninterested expression. "You're the new student, yes?"
She nodded. "Yes, my name is [Name] [Last Name]."
His face brightened, his blank expression being replaced by a small smile. "Ah, [Last Name]? I know your father. We used to be classmates together. Really funny fellow, I tell you," he chuckled. "Make sure to tell him I say hi, alright?" 
[Name] smiled, trying to ignore people's stares. "I will."
"We're on page forty-three. You can take a seat over there," he pointed at an empty seat next to the window. 
"I don't have a book."
"Right," he hummed, looking around his desk for a spare book. "I can't seem to find one right now. Just sit next to Victor for now and come by my office later."
The guy in question raised his head from his palm, being shaken out of his thoughts. [Name] dragged a chair and sat next to him, who scooted to the side to make some some space for the both. 
She held her hands close, feeling awkward by the closeness between them. But she tried her best to ignore it, taking notes when she thought was necessary. 
As she wrote, her pall pen started leaving less and less ink. She pressed harder, but the pen refused to work, as if it suddenly decided to go against her. 
"Shit," she cursed under her breath. She turned to Victor, who had his undoubted attention on Mr. Okley who explained about the Rise of Rome. 
"Do you have an extra pen?"
His attention was disturbed again. He shifted in his seat, blinking like he was just woken up. "Oh, yeah," he searched his bag and held one for her. 
"Thanks," she took it, smiling warmly at him. 
"So, why the sudden change or schools?", he asked. 
"Oh, you know. The usual reasons," she wrote on her notebook, testing if it worked. It was an obvious attempt of her deflecting the question. 
Victor didn't attemt to pressure her in saying anymore, turning his attention back at the lesson. 
The bell rang indicating the end of the lesson. All the students gathered their things, chatting among themselves as they made their way outside. 
Just as [Name] was about to do the same Mr. Okley called her. 
"Wait here for a moment, I'll go and fetch your book, alright?"
With that she waited, watching the classroom becoming less and less crowded. Her mind started wondering along, when she was being shoved forward. Her shoulder bumping with an all too familiar muscular one, snickering as he made his way towards Victor. Two others followed, passing her like she was nonexistent. 
Her face soured. 
Henry and Hockstetter loud vocals filled the room, shooting at Victor about who knows what. [Name] was unable to identify the other figure. He was the most noticeable large one of the group. 
With the realization that Victor was in their little group, it made the girl's disappointment more visible. 
Mr. Okley came back, holding a thick book. "This is it," he opened it, flipping through the pages. "We've covered all of these. Make sure to study them until next week. We'll be having an exam on Monday."
She scrunched her nose, which didn't go unnoticed. 
"Now now, it's not too much," he chuckled at her reaction. "It has very vague information and it's pretty easy to grasp. I'm sure you can do it."
She wasn't convinced and he continued. "If it's too much for you, then I'll guess I could give you an extra week."
"Really?"
He winked. "Just don't tell anyone," he waved his hands. "Now, run along!"
She chuckled and scooted over the door, but stopped when she remembered something. She glanced over at her classmate by the window, being surrounded by the mullet asshole and the creepy lanky guy – and the guy she couldn't recognize. He was frowning at his friends, telling them to "shut up" while they joked around. 
She sighed under her breath and turned her heel, walking over to him. She looked to the ground, avoiding their gazes as she came closer. 
"You, uh, forgot your pen," she held it out for him, only locking eyes with his as he stopped his bickering. Their laughs also came to a stop, observing her from head to toe. 
He took it, and before he could answer she swung around, storming out of the classroom. Her chest was bounding and her breath was shaky. 
She meet the Bower Gang on her first day and managed to survive.
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horror130 · 26 days
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having Henry Bowers and Vance Hopper obsessed with you would include
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" One,two,Daddy is coming for you. Three,four,knocking down your door."- Henry Bowers
“If his filthy hands touch you again, I will kill him!!.”- Vance hopper
💢 You must be a very special and very unlucky person to have these two sociopaths "in love" with you.
💢 You can forget about your social life, since because of Vance's overprotectiveness and Henry's possessiveness, they won't let anyone be close to you, not even your family.
💢 As you can imagine, these two are not at all willing to share you, so you can expect Henry and Vance to fight over you every day, with Henry starting most of the fights since Vance only fights if provoked.
💢 Henry likes to push Vance when he is about to beat the pinball record so that he loses, the last time Henry did this, Grab N'Go ended up completely destroyed.
💢 As much as Vance and Henry hate each other, if they see someone paying too much attention to you, they will join forces and send this MF to hell, but then they become mortal enemies again.
💢 Being in the middle of Vance and Henry's fights can be very annoying and irritating, because they will scream insults at each other while you are in the middle trying to hold your hands over your ear trying to muffle their screams, sometimes they literally have a tug of war with YOU!, but sometimes you can take advantage of their fights to escape.
💢 I imagine you being on a (forced) date with one of them, only for the other to take you (forcibly too) out of that date, just imagine that you and Henry on a date, in the beginning Henry is paying full attention to you, but he you end up getting distracted for a few seconds and when he looks back at you, you've disappeared without a trace, while Henry is confused and pissed as hell and wondering where the hell you are, Vance is holding on tightly (but not to the point of hurting) you hand and taking you to Grab'N Go so you can watch him play pinball.
💢 You can be sure that at some point the two of them would no longer be able to stand each other, and they would literally start a war, and the last one standing would be with you, one of them would die or both of them would kill each other, one or the other, (maybe just Maybe you can stop these two from killing each other).
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