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roadkill-writes · 9 months

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Bowers gang (Remember when) Part 4

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

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.

Tag list: @lucky-lem0ns @scarlets-phases @talitasls-blog @fuckshitslover @blossom221 @disneylover1998 @kyuupidwrites @jiroumyluv

#bowers gang #bowers gang x reader #henry bowers x reader #victor criss #victor criss x reader #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter x reader #belch huggins #belch huggins x reader #it 2017 #pennywise #it x reader #henry bowers #fanfiction #fanfic

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f4er1e-g1rl · 7 months

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am i or am i not maybe sorta gonna drop a patrick hockstetter x goth!reader?🤭

#fanfic #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hocksetter imagine #it 2017 #henry bowers #bowers gang #victor criss #belch huggins #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #stan uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #smut #80s #90s

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stalkurs · 1 year

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Patrick Hockstetter x Fem!Reader

Words : 4,264

Fandom : IT (2019)

Y/N stared quietly at her cream colored and plain walls. She ignored the cold and numbness that was slowly spreading from her toes up to her legs. She trembled as she cursed her mother for her reckless spending, leaving their apartment cold and unheated. Despite the heat outside the cold still covered her body and feet as she stood. The pale colored wood floors creaking under the shift of weight.

A sudden film of black covered her vision as she got wobbly. Firmly placing her hand in her end table to support her weight she set the other in her head.

"Ugh, too fast."

Once the unsteadiness subsided she quietly walked outside her fairly empty room into the blue tinted bathroom. She stood quietly in front of the mirror, both hands holding onto the sides of the sink as she leaned slightly forward to view the dark bags under her eyes. The multiple nights of petrifying nightmares beginning to take a toll on her body. Turning the chilling metal knobs, she placed her hands under the faucet, allowing for the cool water to rush and pool into her hands. Letting out a deep breathe she quickly splashed the water over her face, a quick shiver running down her body.

Grabbing a red wash rag from the shelf she patted her face free of any left over water. Soon after pulling a makeup remover wipe from its blue bag and running the cloth over her eyes cheeks. Leaving black and red colors mixed together on the white cloth. Y/N balled up the freshly dirtied cloth and tossed it into the small trash can sitting next to the toilet. Using her foot she quietly closed the door, immediately locking it and preparing to take a bath.

Putting her hand under the faucet she quietly waited for the water to become warm. After the waters temperature making no different within a couple minutes she turned the knob to turn off the water.

"No hot water either. How amazing, just great." She groaned.

After a roll of her eyes she stood and wiped her hands on a rag before wandering into the kitchen. Opening the freezer and pulling out a box of toaster strudels she began the open the box as she headed towards the toaster. The freezer door making a puff noise as it closed on its own. Popping a strudel into the obviously old toaster she tossed the now empty box into the overflowing trash can, groaning as it simply slid off the pile and onto the floor. Taking a glimpse at the red bars on the inside of the toaster she crouched down and grabbed the box.

Folding the flimsy cardboard a couple times she pushed in and the pile of trash further down into the trash bag. The feeling of something moist touching her finger made her gag and rush to the rusty sink, running her hands under the cool water. After turning off the water she flicked her hands around, water drops landing on the overhead window. After letting out a deep sigh and wiping the rest of the water off on her pajama pants she headed back down the hall to her room. Taking a glimpse at her bedside clock to notice it saying 6:15 AM she took her time reaching her closet.

Pulling it open, followed by a loud creak that the downstairs neighbors definitely heard, she began to browse through her shirts. Deciding on a black long sleeve turtle neck with lace at the end of the sleeves and neck. Grabbing a pair of light ripped jeans to go along with the shirt she began to quickly get dressed as a ding rung through the small apartment. After tossing her clothes on she grabbed a hold of her white vans and rushed downstairs. The sounds of plates clinking echoed through the apartment as she grabbed a plate and set it on the counter.

She hesitated a bit before quickly grabbing the strudel and tossing the pastry onto the black saucer, then quickly retracting her fingers from the hot food. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she blew on the breakfast, attempting to quicken its cooling down. Within a minute she began to eat the breakfast, staring at the small TV across the room in the living room. Once she finished the the food she stacked the plate atop the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink. After stretching and popping her back she walked over and sat next to the front door.

Slipping on her shoes and tying them she stood and grabbed her lanyard from the key rack. She unlocked the front door and walked out, turning back towards the door and locking it with her key. After the sound of the lock clicking she wandered down the red carpeted halls, heading towards the steps. She quickly walked down them, hopping down the last three, stumbling as she nearly lost her footing. After balancing herself she headed towards the glass double doors, pulling them open and beginning to head towards the place she despised oh so much.

"Y/N!"

Turning her head to the side she was greeted with the sight of a familiar red head rushing over to her.

"When did you cut your hair?" Y/N tilted her head.

"Oh," she let out an awkward laugh, her hand resting on the back of her neck, "I cut it last night, felt like I wanted something new ya know?"

She gave a goofy smile to Y/N, getting a nod and smile in return as she looked forward again, continuing to walk, only this time a companion walking beside her.

Within a half hour the two took their separate ways and went to their respected places. Beverly went to join the Losers club while Y/N continued on her own, heading towards her locker. Crouching down and quickly putting in the combination she pulled open the red door, taking a few seconds to view a few Polaroids varying from her friend and pets, to photos of lily of the valleys that she used to grow in the backyard of her old house. She quietly put her books onto the shelf of the locker, grabbing her thin science book and a few pieces of crumpled up papers sitting on the floor.

Making her way to stand she was roughly pushed back down by a hand on her should. She grimaced and looked up to see the bowers gang. Patrick, most likely the one who pushed her, as the other three stood around him. Except for Henry who stood next to the much taller boy. Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach when Patrick crouched to her figure, now sitting on her hind end after being pushed.

Noticing the out of place group surrounding her, other student froze and stared on at the interaction taking place. Mumbles and whispers filling her head, everything else becoming blurry.

She was unsure if the blurry was was from the tears welling up in her eyes from fear, either from the bowers gang or everyone staring at her during an embarrassing moment. Or if it was her brain blocking everything so she could pay attention to what people were saying.

"Oh my god."

"I hope something happens, they've been quiet a couple of days."

"I hope she's okay."

"Someone get a teacher oh my god."

Before the gang could open their mouths her fight and flight instincts kicked in, and she kicked Patrick in the gut. Sending him onto his rear as she quickly stood, jumping over him, barely managing to dodge his hand that reached to grab her ankle. With missing, Patrick slammed his fist on the floor in reaction and quickly stood.

Belch laughed at the stumbling boy only to receive a swift punch to his punch from Henry, making him couch and put a hand to his chest as he attempt to regain his breathe.

"You numb nuts follow him!"

Henry yelled before rushing after the pyromaniac, soon followed by Victor and a still wheezing Belch.

Y/N skidded into the girls bathroom, locking the bathroom door. After turning she was greeted by a Greta and her lesser friends. The slamming of the door made the three turn their heads towards her, earning Y/N a scowl and snicker from Greta.

"The sow's here, how fitting! I was just talking about how I absolutely hate pork!" Laughs followed up Gretas statement from the two girls standing next to her.

A loud banging on the bathroom door caught everyone's attention from the inside.

"Ohhhh~ the sow is running? Did goody shoes get in trouble? Fufu how embarrassing it must be to get caught in the bathroom."

Greta walked to the door, roughly pushing the smaller girl out of the way of the graffitied door and pulled it open quickly after unlocking it. Y/N wasted no time in running and locking one of the stalls as Greta opened the door, surprised to find a seething Patrick on the other side.

"Move whore!" The Blackette pushed her to the side as he began to push open each stall door in search of Y/N. Noticing Henry Greta smiles and strutted over to the boy. She put her hand on his shoulder, followed by her head as she stared up at him as he side eyed her.

"Henry, why didn't you call me last night? You said you would!" She pouted up at the mullet wearing boy.

He scoffed and quickly shrugged her off of him, wandering into the he girls bathroom, following after Patrick. Victor and Belch stood outside the door, victor stood quietly, watching the two in the inside while belch looked at Greta and winked at her and her friends. Greta let out a groan and turned on her heel walking off down the hall followed by her also unresponsive friends.

As one of the stall doors didn't budge when Patrick pushed on it he chuckled.

"I found you~"

Y/N let out a yelp as he banged his fist on the door harshly, leaving her to wonder how the door didn't fall off it's already weak and rusty hinges.

On the other side of the door Henry jerked his head for victor to come over. As victor hesitantly enter the girls bathroom and walked his way to his leader Henry roughly grabbed his shoulder and leaned towards his ear.

"Crawl under the next stall and grab her leg. Try to drag her out enough we can also grab her. Since your weak ass probably couldn't handle pulling a struggling women all the way 2 feet."

Victor nodded, staring at the ground. He let out a breathe, preparing to get kicked in the nose as he got on his stomach and pulled himself towards Y/N. Once he was close enough he grabbed her ankle with one hand, receiving a quick yell as he yanked and pulled her to the floor and onto her side. The sudden impact knocked the breathe out of her chest as she wheezed and began to weakly kick her legs towards the blonde at her feet. She managed a hit to his right cheek, making him close his eyes in pain and groan.

Yet his grip didn't falter as she tilted his face down towards the floor as he moved in order to not get kicked once more. Once his whole body was out from under the stalls Patrick crouched and grabbed both her ankles after smacking away Victor. Roughly yanking her legs she slid the rest of the way out of under the bathroom stall. Patrick put his hands under her arms and lifted her up, grinning at her.

"Glad you could join me! I've been meaning to talk to you!" Henry glanced at Y/N, but with a death glare from Patrick he quickly jerked his head away to stare at the old tiles on the floor.

Patrick set the girl down on her feet before wrapping his hand around her upper arm. He drug her along with him as he left the girls room as soon as the school security began to round the corner to check out what was happening in the girls bathroom. Once Patrick exited, the other three boys followed behind him like loyal dogs, the fear Patrick induced in the other three obvious. Y/N darted her head around as she looked at the other classmates who stared at her being dragged by the bully. Within the crowd she saw several people she had classed with, and as they all hid their faces immediately after making eye contact with her made her hopes of someone helping her diminish.

With all failed attempts of wriggling her arm out of his strong grip she simply gave up on the struggle.

Within a few seconds of walking they finally reached the heavy doors at the front of the school. Patrick pushed open the door with his shoulder and quickly went down the stairs, leaving her to nearly fall at his quick pace. He finally drug her to the side of the school and tossed her against the wall. She smacked her head and immediately leaned down and held the back of her head, which was luckily not bleeding, but a headache did begin to form.

"Oh shit my bad!" Pure concern spread across his face but quickly disappeared as he forced himself to simply stand there.

"What do you want from me!?" Her voice was slightly lowered due to her focusing on the pain in her head.

Patrick turned towards the other three and gestured for them to all go away, which they obeyed and headed back into the school as the bell rang, able to be heard from the outside. Once they left he bent his pointer and put it under her chin, tilting her head up in order to make direct eye contact as he gave her a slanted smile.

"I wanted to ask you on a date. Ya know, just us, maybe the arcade, something like that."

Without meaning too Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh before sapping his hand away from her face. Not knowing where all this confidence was coming from all of the sudden but she went with it, not like he was a pyromaniac who burns living animals or anything.

"The audacity you have to assume I would just drop all that, that you did! and to go on a date!? With you!? I've managed this long to go unnoticed by the school! By your dumb fucking gang! And you think I'd abandon all that progress for you!" She let out a groaned groan and quickly rushed off before he could grab her again.

Knowing she'd be late either way she took her time getting back to class, but didn't dally to long that Patrick could just come and drag her away once more.

I cant believe the audacity of that boy. He embarrasses me in front of the whole school, then thinks ill forget it all, just because he wants to take me on a date. She thought.

Oh my god Patrick wanted me to go on a date.. And I rejected him, god I hope he doesn't get butt hurt and sought to burn me like a frog for it..

Without realizing she had reached her classroom she looked up to be face to face with the plain wood and windowless door with a metal plate labeling "Human Resources." Perfect, an easy class to lead to an easy day.

She opened the door to see an unfamiliar face, a substitute. When questioned she simply said she was at the nurses office before sitting at her seat. Leaning back and beginning to mindlessly stare out the window across the room as a movie played on the projector.

Within what felt like minutes but was actually an hour the bell rang for the next class, and jerking Y/N out of her trance. The sound of complaining classmates and rustling clouded her mind as shoved her pencil into her book before heading out the door alongside the crowd of other students. Only to join another crowd of rowdy teens as they all went to their lockers and towards their next classes. Y/N mentally groaned realizing her next class was Gym, the feeling of dread building up in her stomach, nauseating her.

Once entering the large and cold room she noticed the group of students sitting in the bleachers, within that group being Patrick who was harassing a freshman. Tossing his bag above his head to only catch it moments before it reached his face. He chuckled darkly each moment he noticed the sudden face of fear covering the freshman's face as he thinks the bag is about to hit him. Y/N brought her hand to her face, shielding it as an attempt to hide her face enough that she wouldn't be noticed by the said boy. Luckily for her the coach called for everyone to go get changed before she managed to reach the bleachers, allowing her to sneak off to the girl lockers rooms that were opposite of the boys, where Patrick was going.

She entered the equally cold locker room before the rest of the girls and began to get changed. Replacing her jeans and turtleneck with black sport shorts and a white short sleeve shirt. After putting away her books in her assigned locker she joined the rest of the class on the gym floor, only to discover it was a free day.

Almost immediately Y/N and her "gym buddy" Brittney grouped up and began to kick a soccer ball back and forth to each other while others played basketball or simply walked around the gym.

"So, what about you and the bowers gang now?" Brittney glanced up casually at her after returning from retrieving the ball after Y/N overshot.

"Ugh don't even mention that. Literally tortured me so Patrick could try and get his dick wet."

Brittney chuckled as she kicked the ball, which whizzed right past her partners face and slammed into the wall 10 feet away.

"Maybe asking someone on the soccer team to play kick was a bad idea."

Said person laughed as Y/N turned and began to walk to get the ball. Without a moment to react a sudden pain spread through her eyes and nose and she crouched, soon after sitting as she felt her face as a throbbing pain spread through it.

Brittney quickly ran over and crouched down, putting her hand on her friends shoulder.

"You okay there? I know those frisbees don't feel to good when they get the face."

Y/N removed her hands, a familiar red liquid covering her hands, some dripping down to the floor. The dark red a large contrast against the pale brown wood floor. Looking over she could see one of the schools white frisbees sitting right next to her.

Not a moment after a guy rushed over and grabbed the frisbee. He didn't stay long as after he muttered a "sorry" he returned to his unbothered friends.

"What a dick!" Brittney furrowed her brows and helped Y/N up, but before she could begin walking her to the nurse Patrick appeared seemingly out of nowhere and wrapped his arm under Y/N's.

"Shoo soccer rat, I'll take her." he scowled at her, getting one in return before Brittney left, too scared to do anything against the pyro.

To pained to worry about who took her to the nurse she simply wrapped her arm up and around his torso as she couldn't reach his neck. Once they left the gym and into the empty and silent halls Patrick began to speak.

"Rough day huh? At least you took that frisbee to the face like a champ." He chuckled.

"No no, I've just been hit so hard I forgot how to cry.."

The rest of the walk was full of awkward silence. Once he dropped Y/N off on of of the beds in the nurses office and told her of Y/N being there he left.

The nurse after caring for her left her to sleep off the rest of the pain. Which she slept the rest of the five hours of the school day, only waking when the nurse woke her up when the final bell rang. With a still blurry mind Y/N went to her locker and went to put away her books only to realize she left them in the locker room. She shrugged it off, deciding to let the janitor just throw it away. Not like shes going to be using it during the summer time.

She lagged behind all the rushing student, all excited to leave the school and start their 3 month vacation. As she sluggishly walked behind the group she was joined by Beverly, who attempted conversation.

"So, I heard about the frisbee. Is your nose okay?"

Y/N gave her a look that said it all, as her nose had a purplish hue as the bruise was forming.

"I just want to go home and sleep. Maybe eat some ice cream, and maybe share it with somebody." She nudged Beverly's arms with her elbow as she lightly laughed, getting one in return from the red head.

"I'll see if i could sneak in your window. But it all depends on when dad gets home early."

Y/N nodded and finally got outside, looking over in time to see Henry run his saliva covered hand across Bill's face, making her scrunch up her nose, immediately regretting it as a burning pain filled her nose bridge.

Beverly and Y/N continued on their way to their apartment building and went their separate ways after reaching it. Bev headed up the fire escape to get to her bedroom window and Y/N headed inside and up the stairs to her floor. After going to unlock the door and for it to simply lock instead made her perk up. Re-unlocking the door and entering to see her mother standing at the counter, wearing an apron she had got her years ago as a child and a towel sitting on her shoulder. Hearing the entrance of her daughter the older and tired looking woman turned towards Y/N and grinned.

"Welcome home! Come help me finish decorating these cupcakes would you?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and slipped off her shoes, leaving them on the shoe rack next to the door before joining her mother in covering the baked treats in butter cream frosting.

The very uncommon reunion of Y/N and her mother didn't last long, as after only decorating 2 cupcakes she left the rest to Y/N and fell asleep on the couch. The cooking channel long gone and now played a re-run of some antique auctions. Y/N set the treats into the fridge for tomorrow and kissed her mother on the forehead before tossing an old guilt over her sleeping figure.

Didn't even ask about why my nose was bruised, or why my eyes were red and swollen. Even accusing me of smoking weed would've felt better than her saying nothing at all..

Y/N quickly changed into some plaid pajama pants and a long shirt before sitting on her bed. she rubbing her head as she let out a deep sigh. Laying back in bed after turning off her lap she held a large brown stuffed bunny in her arms. Just as she about to fall into darkness there was a knock on her window, sending her heartbeat crazy. Seeing enough horror movies she stood out of view of her covered window and while pulling back the curtains while out of view she peeked at the other side from the side of the curtain.

Instead of a murderous killer there was a Patrick, equally terrifying but not as bad. The look of confusion was replaced by joy as she moved in front of her window and opened it.

"What do you want?"

"Oh don't act like that, its only 8 PM."

Before she could protect the tall boy climbed into her room and sat criss cross on her bed. Leaving her dumb founded in front of him.

"I came over for our date!"

"I never agreed to that!" She whisper yelled.

"Well, you didn't decline either. How about we just watch a movie, I won't do anything, pinky promise, drown my lighter if I lie." He held up his hand, pinky extended.

Without thinking Y/N rolled her eyes and giggled before wrapping her pinky around his.

"Fine then."

She hopped next to him on the bed, turning on the TV that sat on her dresser opposite of her bed. Turning to a channel that was currently halfway through some old black and white horror movie, she leaned back to lean against her wall, soon after joined by Patrick, who grabbed the rabbit she was cuddling moments ago and held it in his lap, eyes glued to the screen.

By the end of the movie Patrick broke his promise, his hand resting lightly on Y/N's knee as he slept. His head leaned back on the wall. But she wasn't upset by his lie, as she scooted loser and rested her head on his arm, closing her eyes and falling in a comfortable sleep.

#patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hocksetter imagine #patrick hockstetter #it 2019 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fem!reader #imagine #pennywise #henry bowers #victor criss #losers club

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pvvryq · 2 years

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Hello , so how about you write for your fav yanderes with a "go with the flow " reader , like no matter what the yandere does reader is just fine with it cus they have attachment issues and don't want to let go of the yandere even if they get hurt

(I came right away after seeing the announcement)

Ty for the Request, i decided to do my Favourite Characters that i write yandere for :} VV

Ft. Alec Volturi (Twilight) Alice Cullen (Twilight) Leon Kennedy (Resident evil 2) Kai Chiaki (Bnha) Toru Oikawa (Haikyuu) Patrick Hockstetter (IT) Wilbur Soot (Dream smp, Character Not irl)

Also obviously, characters like : Leon, Oikawa and Patrick can’t be full on yandere and like kidnap your cuz of various circumstances so i’m just making them as yanderes with a saviour complex who Gains darlings trust By saving them from a situation or something, and Patrick’s wasn’t as yandere but just slightly creepy cause its Patrick.

WARNINGS : Not proofread because it is 4 am and I’ve literally JUST Got done with Patrick and Wilbur, Character death/gore (Alec,LeonWilbur) Kidnapping (Alec, Hinted at Alice,Kai) Stockholm syndrome ,Manipulation, mentions of suicide (Kai) and Death of a child (Patrick)

✧.* YANDERE’S WITH A WILLING DARLING

✧.* ALEC VOLTURI

— AT First, he was Most likely very sceptical of you seemingly ‘getting used’ to the Castle life and being content with the fact that he had parted you from your family ; you were part of the Denali coven and when The Volturi was issued to Kill Sasha, Your adopted Mother and the woman who had created you, Alec noticed you And Immediately Felt Something he couldn’t describe. Initially, He left the feeling on its own but grew more paranoid that he shouldn’t leave the feeling alone by the day and finally after a few weeks from first seeing you began to query Both Marcus and Caius about you; leaning towards Caius for general knowledge like how You and Alec were Turned at the same age and that You had An ability Similar to Demetris But slightly enhanced. He then asked Marcus about the Strange feeling and Marcus sensed that there was a form of bond between the two of you. Due to your ability ,Being able to Track down people and see their every current move in your mind, Aro had seemed to taking a liking to you andeventually gave in to Alec’s request to have you on the Volturi. For the first week, He noticed you were slightly distant to most — maybe smiling gently at A Lower guard in the hallways or Having a conversation or two with Heidi, but For the most part you wanted nothing to do with him nor most in the castle.

After a while though, You began to warm up to Alec and accept him as your mate. You Would Speak to him quite frequently now and Although he enjoyed that you were settling in something about it didn’t feel right, he was constantly on edge about how easy it would be for you to disappear without a trace — Always knowing The Volturi’s moves before even they knew themselves, it definitely took some time for him to calm down (well, that and A Mindreading from Aro that reassured him you wouldn’t leave) but after a while he To warmed up to the situation and let himself realise that even if you wanted to, you’d never leave him — You’re his for all of eternity.

✧.* ALICE CULLEN

— ALICE probably met you at school, She Spoke to you in Biology and surprised you with How much she knew about the subject. She couldn’t help herself when she got attached to that Sweet Smile of yours and that big toothy grin you gave her — She Tried to take her time with you but it was almost as if you were walking right into her trap! It wasn’t long until she got you to meet her family — Formally introducing you as her s/o, Even though you and her had never discussed romance before ; especially with each other. To her relief, you were too naive to argue and after some time Esme was doting after you just like she did with her own children ; always giving you the option of ‘Spending the night’ or ‘Staying for as long as you please’ And why wouldn’t you? Sweet, Kind, Caring Alice Is always there to drive you home when its too dark, What was that you say? You can walk home along? Nonsense, have you never heard of safety in numbers — if you’re acting like this Then maybe you shouldn’t go home at all…

Surprisingly, Alice’s words Work on you and you decide to Stay in the Cullen home ‘Temporarily’ as you say, silly Y/n Don’t you know how little you have a say on the matter? After all, if your so naive to let Alice manipulate you like this then how does she know you won’t fall into somebody else’s trap? Just stay here with Alice, you won’t even notice that you can’t leave ad when you do — you certainly won’t want to.

✧.* LEON KENNEDY

— SEPTEMBER 29th 1998, the day of the Racoon city incident And the day you met Leon. You watched from The top Window of the Police Station as A Woman about your age parted ways with a Familiar man — Leon Kennedy. You were a higher ranking Cop who was working in the first floor west office when an alert came through your Radio : ‘Steer clear Away from the 2nd floor Office, Rumors of attacks Have been Reported — Seargent L/N Meet me in the Main hall To discuss matters. Over.” You held onto the top button of your radio. “Noted. Over.” As you made your way to the hall. As you met with the Othe r officer you noticed him slouched over one of the Lounge chairs with a Cigarette between his Chubby,Sweat-coated fingers. “Don’t just stand there, Go look.” He spat, showing no indicators of Helping you. Turning, You rolled your eyes and made your way to the second floor — releasing your gun from its holster and reloading it just in case. It Only took a Shriek of pain and smash of The office windows to alert you of the situation, You Straightened yourself up against the wall in terror as you turned your head slightly to peek over the corner. A Woman - A lower officer - Slouched against The now Smashed window that revealed the hallway, A Shard of glass that hand’s broken off Stabbed into her Abdomen as good poured against the floor. Another officer began to tear and rip skin from the woman, biting and swallowing her flesh. Wallowing in fear, you ran Up the stairs and made your way to the top floor — The puddles of blood and Guts on the floor showing that it had already spread up to the Third floor and would soon be at the top , whatever it was.

As you Ran through the mens shower rooms, you Ran into the stars office and locked the door firmly behind you — Checking for The infected in the room. When Proved to be clear, you ran to a window at the top and watched as Leon Kennedy said his goodbyes to An unknown woman, And fled inside of the station. You messed around with your radio slightly, fingers trembling yet the dozens of times you did this before helped you complete the task with ease. “Leon S. Kennedy? Seargent Y/N L/N, Reporting. The Stars office has been cleared of infection, But main Offices on both the second and third floor have been hijacked, over.” It was silent on the other end for a moment, you wondered for a second if it was too late — if he had been mauled by infected on his first step inside of the building but alas, an answer was eventually heard. “Y/n..?I-.Uhm. Officer Harrison and Smith have both been terminated, making my way towards the stars office now.. Over.” And with that the radio turned silent again, As you let your body drop to the floor and the radio slip out off your hand. For a decent while you stayed like that Until A Long,Bloody claw Smashed into the door, You Grabbed your gun And aimed it as the monsters muscles pulsed — breaking the whole door down easily. The monster looked as if it had been skinned, its brain out in the open. For a moment it walked around the room aimlessly on its claws, Until you decided to shoot at its brain, your sweaty fingers missing by a long shot. You shrieked as its turned around and was about pounce on top of you but As you squeezed your eyes tightly a liquid slashed across your face — Thick,Dark scarlet Ropes of blood sprayed your face as Its body went limp on the floor, looking to the doorway you saw A Familiar face — Leon. “Don’t worry, Your safe now.” What you were yet to know was that he would take that promised Very Seriously, Let Leon take care of you, Forever and ever.

✧.* KAI CHISAKI

— FROM the beginning, You knew that your fate had been sealed. For the most part, Kai never visited you and let his men do all the work for him whether it was feeding you or doing what he called ‘Mandatory Suicide checks’ Even if the reality of it was to just strip you from dignity and Privacy. He liked being in control but a part of him grew slightly paranoid that the longer he left you with his men, the angrier and more confident you would get and he couldn’t have you thinking this situation was yours to control, could he? So after A While, Maybe A Few weeks..Few months, Whatever he could last without Meeting you, he had Unexpectedly Walked through the Room that you were left in. Chisaki was Cautious when he first entered the room — Chrono Standing beside the door if you tried to do anything, But to his surprise you only gazed up at his figure , Smiling gently at him before Looking back down to the Blanket that covered your bed, seemingly unbothered. Kai was stricken for a moment, Thinking that your action was of defiance or a false ‘liking’, But after a reassurance from Chrono that you were usually compliant with most things the Shie hissaikai made you do, He started visiting more and more often. You really were what he thought you was — A Pure,Angelic Pet For his entertainment only, and nobody could do nothing about it

✧.* TORU OIKAWA

— “HELLO, You‘re Goshiki-Kun’s Older Cousin From [Home Country] — isn’t that right?” A Boy From behind you questioned, As you Jotted down notes from The practice game For shiratorizawa. You turned To Look behind you quickly, “Oh, Mhm..I’m y/n.” You Smiled gently before turning back to the game And Writing Dow the according notes. As the Hazel-brown haired boy sat next to you, “I’m Toru Oikawa..From Aoba Johsai Academy.” That got your attention. With that you slowly stopped Writing on the thin sheet of paper and placed the Notepad and Purple Sanrio Pen Beside you. “The captain’s told me a lot about you, its an honour.” You Nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and gently smiled at the Boy. “..But I Need to concentrate so may i please ask for you to leave me be.” You let him down, Uninterested. Almost As if it was co-ordinated, Iwaizumi Came and Walked up behind you two, “Leave her alone Oikawa.” You turned your head slightly to see the secondary voice, You noticed as the Slightly more Musclier boy Pulled up Oikawa from where he was sitting and Looked at you, “I’m sorry for him, His Ego’s the size of his head And he’s never usually rejected.” You chuckled gently at the comment, Oikawa defending himself before being Dragged away by Iwaizumi.

A Feeling of jealousy raged throughout Oikawa body, And much to Your dismay, Was following you back on your way home as what he called, ‘A Safety precaution’ As your cousin, Tsutomu, was walking separate ways and ‘left’ you there. “I’m telling you Oikawa..You don’t need to…” For a moment You stumbled on your words, as if you Wanted him to stay but knew he shouldn’t. “..Get Inv-.Forget it.” You Shook your head And went to turn, yet he still followed. “My house isn’t far now, i Can walk on my own.” You said to him, watching as his face fell yet he smiled and Respected your wish. “See you soon, Y/n-Chan.” You just rolled your eyes and tightened your grip on your school bag, Dreading the normal way you would take. From the start to end of the sidewalk was where a few third years from A Really shitty School hung out, They would steal alcohol — get drunk and then proceed to catcall any woman They saw crossing the street. As per usual, They were there — catcalling you and trying to get you to cross the street and come with them, but Quickly they all stopped as They noticed somebody behind you. Toru placed his hand gently on your shoulder, “Ey Toru, Thats your girl Huh?” One of them slurred, Oikawa only smiled and chuckled a ‘yes’ in response. “Sorry Man, D-didn’t know!” Another boy Laughed ad hiccuped as if they weren’t just catcalling you. As you walked out of there line of sight you spoke, “You didn’t need to do that.” You said to Him, Trying to hide your smile of gratitude. “Ehh…No big deal.” He smiled a toothy grin, And you scoffed in return before continuing to walk back home, Toru Behind you. Maybe you should Let Toru Stay from now on, Whats the worst that could happen?

✧.* PATRICK HOCKSTETTER

— DERRY Maine wasn’t exactly the type of town where you could be different, or At least be different without people knowing. It was a quick phase for some, maybe a secondary story on the local newspaper about them and a group of friends rebelling against say, the church. For others it took some time, 10 years back a Man shot his wife and Children dead in the Derry Townhouse, But even he lost his spark after a few years or so passed. The only person Who never outgrew his phase was Patrick Hockstetter, it started when Patrick was 3 or so, Parents at the daycare complained about His abnormal and violent behaviour, though it was quickly overseen. Then, when Patrick was 5, his parents had brought home Avery. Patrick remembers His parents Passing through the doorway holding what seemed like a baby in their hand, introducing it as Avery — Patrick’s brother. The baby was bearable for a few nights, Patrick even stood weeks with it in the home yet something stirred in his mind one night. The next morning, Police arrived at the door ; His father Holding an apathetic, out-of-it look on his face while his mother sobbed hysterically, he remembers his mother telling him there was an Accident, he remembers the loss for words he felt when he was about to tell her it wasn’t an accident — something in his brain told his he shouldn’t speak about it. Rumors only kept growing about Patrick until The winter of 1988, A New girl has moved into Derry. For the first few weeks she was fine, but after a while she tended to have frequent outbursts and fights. Not that Patrick ever witnessed one, she attended the catholic school on the brink of Derry and he rarely even saw her. He remembers the first time he saw her,it was the 9th of January 1989 just a month after she had moved to Derry and His friend Henry and him were waiting for his dad finish up a police interview with a ‘Rebel’ so they could get a lift to Victor criss’s house. Henry sighed in an impatient relief when his father came from the room, though Patrick’s eyes were on the girl behind butch. She must of been the So called ‘rebel’ but to him, she looked perfectly innocent — Well other than she Bruised, slightly swelled eye and bleeding nose she had. She let her hair fall into her face as she stared at the ground, She wore the white, shortsleeved blouse and Grew pleated skirt the catholic school made her wear but also wore a Log, blue trench coat above it, she shot patrick a glare as another officer let her leave the station.

He expected her spark to die down but she was still Acting up even after this long, to be honest he felt strangely connected to her — but not like those other girls who he perked around on , No,This girl was Different. By now it was the summer of 1989 and he was seeing much more of her now that school was closed for break, though he Really met her when Butch invited Patrick’s dad to come over to The rebel girl’s house to drink and watch football with her father, Patricks dad insisted he come because ‘Henry would be there’ . Patricks dad, to put it simple,lied. He wasn’t;t complaining though, rebel girl’s name Was y/n and She actually spoke to him For a decent while before abruptly leaving the house after a phone call. When she came back, it was late — maybe 1 or 2 in the morning and the dad had passed out drunk in the living area leaving patrick to Smoke On the patio round the back of the house. Y/n Came into the house, And went onto the patio when she spotted Patrick. Eve though the lights were dim, he could see the blood running down her face from the illuminating living room lamp that Shone Through the glass Patio doors. She sat down next to him as he took a long drag of his cigarette. “Somebody roughed you up?” He passed the cig to her, she scoffed as she held it in between her to fingers, “No I fell over.” She commented sarcastically before taking a drag of the cigarette. He looked at her,”Who?” For a moment she held a confused look on her face, wondering why he cared. “Scotty Prescott, that fuckin’ fag you hang out with.” She took another drag. “Want me to rough him up?” Patrick asked with a smirk. Done with his shit, Y/n Grabbed the end of the cigarette and let it out on Patrick’s resting hand , discarding it on the grass somewhere before going back inside, presumably to her room. He gazed down to his hand and Watched as a slight burn mark formed. Yes, she was definitely different than the other girls and he would do anything it takes to keep her close to him.

✧.* WILBUR SOOT (CANON NOT IRL)

— DUST And ash Grew in Varying size Piles on The diner’s countertops and Tables — soot gathered in the cracks of the Once clean tile slate floor. The roof had been Knocked through, roofing tiles smashing from contact with the dirtied ground or slicing into the Pillowy, plush Part of the diner chairs. Still, It was the first place you ran when Various Booms and Bangs were heard only Miles away from the town hall where you were. All of your life’s hard work Just..gone. And to make things worse, The limp Body of A Worker was Laying across the floor — a gorey,bloody mess. You felt bile crawl its way through your throat as A Hand gently gripped onto your shoulder, “Look what we’ve done…” Wilbur Faked his Sorrow. “Its all your fault, you know?” He Carried on, as you trembled — falling backwards slightly before he caught you. ‘it you just told somebody, Anybody about the bombs, they would of stopped me.” Wilbur tutted as he let go of your shoulder, you felt completely brainwashed as he Leant closer to you and whispered into your ear. “Nobodies here to save you, just give in…” He held out his hand In front of you. You mumbled slightly in protest, shaking your head gently. “Cmon Y/n, It’ll be fun!” He Smiled as you gently placed your hand in his, too Confused to care — feeling too manipulated,guilt…you zoned for a moment until Will’s voice brought you back. “Just you and me, Against everyone…Forever.”

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inkblotm · 11 months

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HENRY BOWERS

Well guys... I read 'It' and... this happened. I just don't know if all of you know how good the description of Henry Bowers is and how great a villain. I loved It. Loved It. So here you go, a fanart of Henry from the book by Stephen King.

I think im gonna do more. The issuesssss

DO NOT COPY OR POST TO OTHER WEBSITES

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drawingangel666 · 2 years

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can you do poly bower's gang with a reader who loves baking and shopping?

Of course! (Sorry for the delay :c) I hope you like it. It might be a little out of character, because I haven't been in the fandom for a while. I decided to make it from the exact moment they found out reader likes to do those things.

One-shot: Poly! Bowers Gang x Reader

Pairing: Victor Criss x Reader, Patrick Hockstetter x Reader, Henry Bowers x Reader, Regginald Huggins x Reader

Reader's gender/pronouns: I won't use them `cause I will make it on 1st person pov. (Once the reader is called babe, I am not a native English speaker and I don't know if that is used for other genders apart from female, but I don't know).

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, Patrick being a warning by himself, polyamory,

Y/n POV

It was a calm evening. The Bowers Gang were my boyfriends, since we were in a polyamory relationship, but I didn't like them beating kids up.

Having some time for myself and for my baking was good. They didn't know about it and I wasn't planing on telling them. I didn't want them to make fun of me.

The sound of the oven pulled me out of my thoughts, I took out my cupcakes with a smile, putting the tray over the oven. Just as I was decorating them, my front door slammed closed. I knew that they didn't knock, nor warn that they were coming in.

I almost had a panic attack, they would find out I love baking. Victor was the first one to enter the kitchen, following the sweet scent of my pastries.

He smiled sweetly at me. 'Hey, what are you baking sweetheart?´ he said, hugging me and sniffing the air. `I am making some cupcakes´ I replied to him.

`I never saw you as the 'baker' type´ Patrick smiled wickedly at me, greeting me with a kiss on my cheek and his classical smile.

`Do you like to bake?´ Henry asked, his tone being difficult to understand, I didn't know if he was mad, of going to make fun of me. `Why did you hide it from us?´ Reggie said, looking a little hurt. Victor soon had a similar expression.

Patrick was amused by this and Henry looked at me with his arms crossed.

`I didn't want to show you guys because I thought you would make fun of me´ I said finding the tiles on the floor much more interesting. A hand cupped my cheek and forced me to look up. Henry looked at me sternly. `There is no problem with anything you like baby, you are ours and that's it´ he smiled before kissing me with passion.

I smiled into the kiss, feeling Reggies arms snake their way around my waist. Once Henry was satisfied with the kiss, he let go of me and I watched my breath. Soon enough Patricks lips crashed into mine forcefully. I kissed back and he caressed my cheek.

After he pulled away, Victor hugged me before kissing me, giving me a sweet kiss. And then, Reggie gave me the last kiss, his gentleness giving me goosebumps up and down my spine.

'Babe, is there anything else you kept from us?' Patrick inquired. 'Yes, I also love shopping' I smiled sheepishly at them. They smiled back. 'We'll take you shopping later, honey' Victor said, caressing me.

'Yay, I still gotta finish this up but I'd love to go shopping with you' I replied.

They helped me with everything and we ate cupcakes while talking. Then they helped me clean and took me to a mall to go shopping. Sometimes they whined but as a joke, they also enjoyed it very much.

#bowers gang #Bowers Gang x reader #Bowers Gang fanfic #it fanfic #patrick hockstetter #henry bowers #victor criss #regginald huggings

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kaysters247 · 6 months

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So I’ve started a story about Patrick, and wanted to start sharing it on here! I also have it on Wattpad under the name Kaylakuy and the story is called Deadly Inferno. Let me know what you think so far!

Warning: Mature Themes

Word Count: 1104

Part 1 - The Bowers Gang Girl

Summer nights in this hellhole of a house felt entirely endless as the days and nights dragged on. Staring at myself in the mirror with the consistent cigarette burns and bruises that were imprinted fingerprints in my skin were the norm. With my bedroom door locked and window open, the curtains I've had up for what felt like years slightly ruffling about from the subtle morning breeze, I stared at myself in the body length mirror my mom once got me. Mom.... I missed her more than anything. But at the same time, I hated her guts. Leaving Henry and I like she did because she couldn't handle our dads stupid ass was ridiculous. She abandoned us. And look at us now. Henry's so lost in this darkness he can't seem to get out of, not that he wants to. And I just simply do my own thing, smoke in private with Beverly who sneaks me cigs when she can, burning my own skin because it was an ounce of pleasure I somehow enjoyed. Pain. It was something to feel. And I strangely liked it.

"Leslie! Get your ass down here before we leave you." I slipped on my black tank top over my frilly red bra, not caring if the straps were in full view for anyone to see. Everyone already thinks I'm the town slut. Why disappoint now? I grabbed my backpack from the side of my bed and slung it over my shoulder whilst making my way out of my room and down the stairs of our two story house that hadn't truly felt like home in years.

"Dad's in a mood. Ignore him." Henry and I both eyed him from his usual chair, seeing his eyes trained solely on the tv ahead of him. Butch Bowers was an asshole. Let me just start by saying that. A hardass. Controlling.

"Leslie? Don't forget what I told you." I rolled my eyes with a subtle answer to his demand, a little okay slipping through my lips before we bolted out the door. And that would be to stop being a hoe and not sleep with every guy in town. When in fact, I'm still a fucking virgin. I'm 15 with no intent of wanting some dick inside me at any given time.

"You'll have to sit between Patrick and Vic. But I swear to fuck you better not let them touch you. Dad will kill me if he hears another story about you and Patrick...." I sighed a little in annoyance, never understanding how these rumors came to be from the little spies that are called parents that always seem to tattle to my dad. Patrick Hockstetter had been friends with Henry since I could remember. Lanky, long dark hair and green eyes that seemed to bore into my soul at any given chance with wandering hands that loved to go down my shirt when he possibly could, once unbuttoning my shorts right in the trans am in full view of my brother, Vic and Belch. He almost made it past my underwear line before I slapped his hand away and scoffed, buttoning my shorts back up as quickly as possible. Thankfully, Henry didn't notice. But Vic did. And he was trying to hide a smile. Patrick and I had this dynamic that Vic new all too well. He knew everything because I told him. He'd been my best friend since we were little, the reason he's now in what they're called as, The Bowers Gang.

"Just so you know Pat, I will slap your dick if you do anything. Got it?" I slipped in next to him as he mock saluted me with a little humored smirk on his undeniably cute face. He loved torturing me. It was his hobby to torture. Specifically me.

"Alrighty Princess." But his arm laced around my waist anyway without hesitation, only drawing me closer to him as Belch took off down the driveway once Henry was in the passenger seat, my light brown hair blowing in the wind.

"Careful. Your dad might see today. He's been at the school a lot since Betty Ripsom disappeared." Vic's helpful warning in my ear was another shot to the heart I hadn't been thinking of. Betty. I used to sit next to her in math class. She was sweet. But I knew she was dead. There's no way she's still alive. And with all the talk of who's taking these kids, it's honestly terrifying. But with summer break starting today after the last day of school, so many would forget, making her just another missing poster on buildings.

"Hockstetter I swear I will beat your ass if you don't quit touching my sister. And you know I fucking will." Henry's usual temper was in full swing this morning and his voice was as dark and threatening as could be. He hated the idea of Patrick and I. He always had. But Patrick never did let go of me until we got to school and we all clambered out of the trans am, Patrick's eyes directly on my ass the entire time I was walking towards the building. And I knew this because I could practically feel his eyes burning holes in my cheeks. Henry suddenly grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me away from the guys and dragging me away with such a look on his face that he could just make someone drop dead from said look.

"Remember what I said. Don't fuck around with that fag Hockstetter. I see the way you look at him....." I shoved away from Henry just as Vic came walking past with an apologetic look on his face. He knew how bad my home life truly was. He knew Henry could be violent with me and dad? Well he was on a whole other level.

"I don't "fuck around" Henry. Regardless of what people say. But if I want to do anything with Patrick, then maybe I will." Maybe I should was all I kept thinking. My eyes connected with Patrick's as Henry stalked away from me with anger boiling in his blood, seeing the firm look of interest in his green eyes. And that never wavering smirk on his lips.

"It's so hard to believe little Leslie Bowers would be interested in a Hockstetter like me. I'm pretty dangerous ya know?" I looked out to see a patrolling police car and knew it was my dad, his eyes connecting with mine from across the busy school yard. He looked pissed. He hated Patrick. And that's what attracted me more to him.

#owen teague #horror #patrick hockstetter #it #stephen king #story #fanfic #the bowers gang #henry bowers #victor criss #belch huggins

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greenandsorrow · 16 days

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IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Author's note; I used to have strange dreams as a kid. This story is heavily inspired by a series of dreams I had during my tween years.

Did you ever dream not of a scenario recurring, but continuing?

!!!!! The reader is a teenager. The relationships described in the fic are strictly platonic. My poor attempt at writing a threatening & scary environment is the only warning. And Pennywise (a clown) is a warning himself I guess. This is a very weird inner child comfort thing for me, I apologise😞

Dividers; @/saradika-graphics - @/cafekitsune

First part • Second part (soon both of them)

ongoing!!

If you managed to enjoy this shit, good job! You made me very happy! Wanna make me even happier? Support me here-> PayPal link ❤️

my masterlist

You can always ask to be tagged :)

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ambrossart · 8 months

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PAPER MEN

—CHAPTER 30

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough.

PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 5,446

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

Evelyn couldn’t remember the last time her mother picked her up from school.

This dawned on her while she was sitting outside on the wooden bench, her overstuffed backpack beside her and tipped onto its side, her hands bundled snugly inside the sleeves of her much-too-big coat. Sitting like this, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel like a little kid again. Goofing around on the playground after school. Dirt under her nails. Grass stains on her knees. Her coat and backpack unneeded, discarded in a pile off to the side. Back then, time was an equally unnecessary burden, and so it too was cast aside and forgotten. Free of it, Evelyn would run and jump and laugh and play… until there was no one left to play with, until Evelyn waved her last goodbye, looked around the empty playground, and realized she was all alone. Then she would pick up her coat and backpack, sit down on the bench, and wait patiently for her mother to arrive. She would have happily waited forever.

Maggie Tozier’s lateness rarely went unnoticed by the Derry Elementary School faculty and staff. At some point, Evelyn’s teacher would come out, stoop down beside her, and say, “Honey, is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah,” Evelyn would answer placidly, “she’s just running late.”

“Your mommy’s late a lot, isn’t she?”

“No… only sometimes.”

And her teacher would smile that sad, pitying smile and think, She really is a sweet kid. It’s a shame she has such a scatterbrain for a mother.

Of course, Maggie Tozier would arrive eventually—in her usual chaotic fashion. They’d see her old, beat-up station wagon chugging down Jackson Street. See it swerve erratically and screech to a stop in front of the curb. Then Maggie would scramble out of the driver’s seat—sometimes dressed in her nursing scrubs, sometimes dressed in old house clothes splattered with baby food—and come sprinting across the lawn with embarrassed, apologetic urgency.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Maggie would always say. By then, Evelyn would be buckled safely in her booster seat and singing merrily along to the radio, unaware of the adult conversation happening outside. “I got off work and laid down for a quick nap and—I dunno, I must’ve slept through my alarm or something. I’m really sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It already has happened again, Maggie. This is the third time this week.”

“Right,” Maggie would answer, swallowing the lump in her throat. Then she would look back at her young daughter, see her wave and wave back, feel that old, familiar sting of shame, and revert back to her ten-year-old self. A hopeless little girl getting scolded by her teacher. Now go stand outside in the hall, Maggie, and think hard about what you’ve done. And Maggie Tozier, an overworked mother of two lovely, energetic children, would bend her head, look down at her loafers… no, sneakers; Maggie hadn’t worn loafers since grade school… and say in a small voice, “Look, I’m doing my best here.”

“I know you are, Maggie, but maybe it’s time to get some help. You seem to have a lot on your plate right now. It’d be a shame for your children to suffer because of it.”

“Right… Yeah, okay.”

Humiliated, Maggie would slink back to her car, slump into her seat, and drive home while listening to her daughter describe every delightful detail of her day. Evelyn used to look back on these car rides fondly, but now… for some reason now… all she could see was her mother’s teary-eyed expression in the rearview mirror. She must have felt like such a failure when Evelyn, at only six years old, told her she no longer wanted rides to school.

Maggie confronted her about it one afternoon, while Evelyn was sitting at the kitchen table and drawing with her crayons. Maggie sat down across from her and said, “Sweetie, why do you wanna walk to school?”

“Because…”

“Is it because Mommy’s late all the time? Does it make you feel sad to see all your friends getting picked up and you have to wait?”

“No… I don’t mind waiting.”

“Well, then why do you wanna walk to school?”

Evelyn put down her green crayon and gave her mother a very grown-up look that said, Oh Mother, isn’t it obvious? “Because Victor walks to school.”

Maggie’s eyes lit up with sudden awareness. “Oh, Victor walks to school… You wanna walk with Victor.” Of course it was that simple, and now Maggie felt silly for thinking otherwise. This wasn’t a case of bad parenting (the jury was still out on that charge). This was a case of puppy love—bright-eyed, bushy-tailed puppy love—and her six-year-old daughter had it bad. Maggie laid her cheek on her palm and smiled at her lovestruck child. “Victor’s a very nice boy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Evelyn said, utterly smitten, “and he’s real smart, too. He knows everything.”

“Everything, huh?”

“Well… not everything, but he knows a lot.”

“Is that a picture of you two?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you smiling and holding hands?”

“Yeah…” Evelyn pressed her tiny hands to her rosy cheeks and began to giggle at seemingly nothing at all. Then she picked up her green crayon and finished coloring the grass at the bottom of the paper. “I’m gonna give this to him tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love that,” Maggie said, and promptly bit her tongue. No, Victor Criss would not be glad to receive that drawing, just like he wasn’t glad to receive any of the other drawings her daughter had given him, but Evelyn didn’t need to hear that. “Sweetie, why does Victor wanna walk to school? Did he tell you?”

“Yeah… He said he doesn’t like riding with his mom anymore. He said all her talking makes his head hurt real bad.”

Maggie winced, heartbroken for her friend. Oh, poor Tabby. I bet she’s crying her eyes out right now.

Her assumption wasn’t wrong. Tabitha Criss was, indeed, crying her eyes out. In fact, she had been inconsolable for the better part of the afternoon—ever since those gut-wrenching words came out of her darling son’s mouth.

You talk too much, Mom. It’s annoying.

“That’s it,” Tabitha declared to her husband in his study, “my son officially hates me!”

Her husband replied in a calm, clinical voice: “He doesn’t hate you, Tabby.”

David Criss was sitting behind his desk, his glasses perched neatly upon the bridge of his nose, head bent studiously over a small stone meteorite fragment he held in his gloved hand. David was performing his monthly inspection, see, and that was serious business—far more serious than whatever problem his wife had recently dreamt up. David had a moderately impressive collection of iron meteorites, chondrites, achondrites, and pallasites. The one in his hand was likely an ordinary chondrite, but David had yet to get it professionally evaluated. Next week, perhaps. The rest were housed in the wooden display cabinet behind him, each sample carefully backlit and labeled according to its classification. Nobody was allowed to open that cabinet… although David suspected somebody had. There were little fingerprints all over the outside of the glass.

“No, I think he does,” Tabitha was saying now. “In fact, I’m sure he does. All I did was ask about his day, David, and do you know what he said to me? He said, ‘Mom, I’m really not in the mood to talk to you right now.’ It was like a knife to my heart! My own son doesn’t wanna talk to me. He never wants to talk to me. He thinks I’m annoying. My son—my pride and joy—thinks I’m annoying, and now he doesn’t even want me driving him to school anymore.”

“So?” David said. “It’s perfectly natural for children to desire independence.” There was, however, nothing natural about this discoloration. Was it rusting already? No, impossible. David held the fragment under his desk light to get a better look.

“He’s six, David. Six-year-old boys are supposed to want their mothers.” Tabitha threw up her hands helplessly, wishing she knew how to make her husband understand. David, meanwhile, reached across his desk for a Q-tip. “You know, I thought I had a few more years before he wanted nothing to do with me, but no… he came out of the womb preseasoned with hatred like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

“Turkey?” David repeated with baffling interest. He craned over his shoulder and glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late. When are we having dinner?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t even started it yet.”

“But it’s almost six-thirty.”

“Yes, I know what time it is.”

“We always eat at six-thirty.”

“Well, tonight we’ll be eating a little later,” Tabitha said, exasperated. “Can you listen, please? This is important.”

Frowning, David temporarily set his meteorite fragment aside. “So, what, you’re not letting him walk to school now?”

“No, I will.” As if she had any other choice. “But I’m not letting him walk alone. Victor’s way too young for that.” The elementary school was only three blocks away from the house, but still… a lot could happen to him in those three blocks. He could get hit by a car while crossing the street or worse, kidnapped and killed. “I was talking to Maggie earlier today. She said Evelyn wants to walk to school now too, so…”

David sighed. “Tabby, don’t.”

“What?”

“Stop forcing that girl onto our son.”

“That girl? What’s wrong with Evelyn?”

“Nothing’s wrong with her. I’m sure she’s a perfectly normal child.” And like all perfectly normal children, Evelyn Tozier was—frankly—incredibly annoying. Always showing up at the house unannounced. Harassing their son. Vandalizing their driveway with ghastly chalk drawings of rainbows, smiley faces, flowers, and unicorns. David stepped outside one morning and there was Evelyn, doodling away under the bright summer sun. Any requests? she said with a proud smile. David, needing to get to his car, answered: Yes, kindly move. “I just don’t think it’s right to force our son to socialize with someone he doesn’t like.”

“Well that’s life, David. Sometimes you have to get along with people you don’t like.” Under her breath, she said, “Just like I’m not particularly fond of you right now.”

David took out a small cloth and began cleaning his glasses. “You’re being emotional.”

“And you’re being hypercritical of a six-year-old.”

“She broke into my study.”

“What?”

“She broke into my study. Her fingerprints are all over the place.”

“Oh, she did not break in, David. For God’s sake, listen to yourself. The door was unlocked. You, in all your wisdom, left it unlocked. She wandered in because she was curious, because she wanted to see all the sparkly rocks behind the glass.”

“You let her in,” David said begrudgingly. “You always let her in. One of these days she’s gonna break something.”

Oh, I hope she does, Tabitha wanted to say, but she held her tongue. There was no point in arguing with her husband. David’s opinion was like concrete. Once it was set, there was no changing it. “I’m gonna go make dinner.”

“Good,” David said. “It’s already six thirty-five.”

“I know what time it is,” Tabitha snapped and walked out, slamming the door.

You’re being too emotional, Tabby. Her husband might not have said it, but she knew that’s what he was thinking. She didn’t care. She went upstairs to her son’s room, knocked on the door, and opened it once he answered. “Hey…”

To her private terror, Victor was lying on the floor with a children’s book about asteroids, comets, and meteors. Did David give that to him? Or did Victor seek it out all on his own? The two were so dreadfully similar: quiet, intelligent, candid in a way that was sometimes charming, sometimes cruel. It made her worry for her son’s future. She didn’t want him to end up like David: absorbed in his work, in his hobbies, apathetic to his wife’s feelings, unaware of her growing resentment toward him. Tabitha didn’t want that life for her son... or for the poor girl who tried to love him.

“Okay, you win,” she said. “You can walk to school.”

Victor nodded once, satisfied, then returned to his book.

“But,” Tabitha went on, trying to reclaim his attention. It didn’t come easily, though; things with Victor rarely did. “I’m not gonna let you walk by yourself, okay? You’re still a little too young for that. So Evelyn’s gonna walk to school with you. All right?”

Victor’s back stiffened with precognizant dread. “I changed my mind. I wanna ride with you.”

“Ha, nice try,” Tabitha said. “You made your bed and now you get to lie in it. If you wanna be a big boy and walk to school, that’s fine with me, but there are rules, okay?” Victor rolled his eyes and turned away from her. Tabitha’s jaw dropped. “Hey, excuse me, I’m still talking. Don’t go back to reading your book, Victor. That’s very, very rude.” Victor huffed and looked directly at her, or tried to anyway. That was another thing that didn’t come easily with him. “I want you to walk to school with Evelyn, okay? Straight to school and straight home. I want you to stay on the sidewalk, look both ways before crossing the street, and hold hands when you do.”

“What?” Victor cried, grimacing. “But she’s gonna make it weird.”

“What do you mean she’s gonna make it weird?”

“She’s gonna smile at me all funny. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Well, sweetie, sometimes we have to do things that make us a little uncomfortable. It’s all part of growing up. And who knows,” Tabitha said as she went out, “one day you might actually want her smiling at you.”

Victor scowled, doubtful. “No, I won’t.”

For Evelyn, those were the happiest years. Sunny day followed sunny day, and she lived with a kaleidoscope of butterflies constantly flittering in her stomach. Victor didn’t like it nearly so well (for the first year, his mother had to drag him down the street and then give him a little nudge to get him going), but that was okay. Evelyn didn’t mind that he never talked to her or that he sometimes walked so fast she had to run to keep up. None of that mattered. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and Evelyn was walking to school with Victor Criss, who was so tall and smart. In class, he never raised his hand, but he often mumbled the answers under his breath. Evelyn was the only one who saw him doing it. It was like finding buried treasure. A precious secret that only she knew. That day, the first butterfly hatched and took wing. Evelyn knew instantly that she was in love.

But that was a long time ago. Victor was a different person back then, and so was she.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Evelyn wasn’t supposed to be sitting on this bench, in this stolen coat, wiping her tears away. No, she was supposed to be at the library with Jimmy and helping him come up with ideas for his next big anti-bullying campaign. That’s where she was supposed to be—by his side, supporting him. Eventually, Vic would wander in, act like he didn’t want to be there, but hang out at the table anyway: doing his homework, criticizing all of Evelyn’s suggestions, stealing little glimpses of her face while she wrote in her notebook. Only Jimmy would catch him doing it. He’d shoot his best friend a playful, knowing smile and think, How long are you gonna keep this up, Vic? Another year? Two? She’s not gonna wait forever. Then they would all go home together, Jimmy in front and Vic a few steps behind, yelling for Evelyn to hurry up and quit lollygagging. You guys walk too fast… No, you just walk too slow. They’d walk together, laugh together, and right before they crossed the street Vic would immediately, instinctively, reach for Evelyn’s hand.

That’s how it was supposed to be, but that’s not how it was. After that summer in ’85, everything changed. Now Vic was in detention, Jimmy was at another school, and Evelyn was sitting on the bench with a ripped skirt and a stolen coat, waiting for her mom to pick her up.

I wish you were still here, Evelyn thought, grief-stricken. I know you’re not dead, Jimmy, but sometimes it feels like you are… I can’t do this without you. I know you said I could, but I can’t. My ideas aren’t good enough. I’m not good enough. Everyone thinks I’m annoying and they’re right! The only way I can win an election is if someone hands it to me. You handed it to me. Christie Gibson handed it to me. You gave me some really big shoes to fill, Jimmy, and so far I’m not doing a very good job.

Evelyn put her hands over her face, stifling the sound of her sobs.

I keep getting distracted by stupid things… Patrick… Henry… We used to stand up against people like them, and now… now I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

She was sitting on a bench, in a stolen coat.

I don’t even know whose this is, Evelyn thought suddenly, mortified. I just took some poor kid’s coat without even hesitating. What’s wrong with me? What if this is a precious family heirloom, a grand coat passed down from generation to generation, and I just singlehandedly killed the line of succession? She couldn’t have that on her conscience. Evelyn wasn’t a coat thief. She was just a girl without options, desperate to get home with her dignity intact—what little remained of it, anyway.

Yes, Evelyn would return the coat

(the coat)

(she would focus on the coat)

(and memories of Martin)

(Are you open for business now?)

(of the cut on her lip, the tear in her skirt)

(of Henry’s terrible black eyes)

(She’s not worth it)

(would slip further and further away)

(away)

(she pushed them far away)

just as soon as she figured out whose it was. Maybe the owner had written their initials on the tag. People still did that, right? Evelyn’s mother used to do that to her coats when she was in elementary school. Maybe someone had done that to this coat, too. Yeah, maybe. Maybe. But likely not. High school students didn’t need to write their initials on their coats (Evelyn still did, of course, out of habit). They didn’t throw them into a giant pile on the playground, forget them, then accidentally take home the wrong one. High school students loved their coats. They lived for their coats. They were both functional and fashionable. Bomber jackets. Ski jackets. Triple F.A.T. Goose jackets. A few of the senior boys had Members Only jackets. In the fall, they would lean against their cars with their hands in their… pockets.

Remembering this, Evelyn curiously slid her hands into the front pockets of her stolen coat. In the left pocket, she found some loose, sticky change, a nearly empty tube of shimmering pink lip gloss (Steph Price once had a tube of this exact shade, Evelyn remembered; she was constantly slathering it on her lips during class), a ticket stub to some obscure horror movie, gum wrappers, a broken pencil, a few paperclips bent into indefinable shapes, and—most curious of all—a tiny piece of translucent plastic that was faceted on one end like a diamond.

What is this? Evelyn wondered, lifting it into the light to examine it. It almost looked like a piece of jewelry. An earring, perhaps. A tiny earring for a tiny ear.

Her other hand, meanwhile, dove deeper into the right pocket and closed around something cold, hard, and smooth. Metal. A lighter. A brushed chrome Zippo lighter.

Evelyn’s eyes widened, a gasp rose in her chest, and her whole body straightened with surprise. Her right grip tightened. Her left grip loosened. She pulled the lighter out of her pocket and held it in the middle of her palm. It shimmered hypnotically in the sunlight, rendering all her other findings worthless. The strange piece of plastic fell, forgotten, bounced off Evelyn’s knee and tumbled into the grass. She would never think of it again.

This isn’t a stolen coat, she realized. This is Patrick’s coat. Patrick gave me his coat.

And now Evelyn was thinking back to the morning Patrick returned from suspension. She dropped the clipboard and he picked it up for her. Why did he do that? Why did he follow her to her locker after class and ask with such genuine curiosity, Where have I seen you? Why did he return the shirts Henry had stolen? Why did he give Evelyn that postcard that she cherished so much?

(And why did I frame it?)

Why did he let her into his house and introduce her to his mother? Patrick didn’t want her there, but he let her in anyway. Why? Why did he break into the Denbrough house while she was babysitting? Why did he taunt her, terrorize her, then purposefully push his hand into the knife?

(He did. I know he did.)

Why did Patrick stare at her face and call her colorful? Of all the adjectives in the English language, he chose that word specifically. Why? Why?

Confounded, Evelyn whipped the lighter open, flicked the wheel, and sparked a flame.

Why did you give me your coat, Patrick? Do you even know?

Sighing, Evelyn flipped the lid closed and saw her mother’s car coming down Pasture Road. This wasn’t the beat-up station wagon from Evelyn’s childhood. No, her mother had sold that car back in ’86 and bought herself a Plymouth Voyager, a three-door minivan big enough to fit the entire family. They ran errands in that van. Went on family road trips in that van. Two weeks ago, Maggie had driven Evelyn to her first high school party in that van. It ended up being a horrible night in the end, but that moment was perfect. They sat parked in front of Liz Mueller’s house, awestruck by its grandness, while Evelyn's stomach flipped and fluttered with excitement. Her mother had embarrassed her with a very crude lecture about boys and unprotected sex. What? I’m a nurse, not a nun. It began with Evelyn cringing and ended with her laughing, as most talks with her mother did.

Yes, it had been a wonderful night. Evelyn felt so grown up.

Now she felt guilty. She didn’t want this moment to overshadow all those amazing memories. She didn’t want this to be the one moment her mother remembered forever. Evelyn wanted her mother to remember her arguing with Richie in the backseat. Carrying in armfuls of plaques and trophies from the school awards banquet. Spilling her milkshake. Dropping her fries. Freaking out because there was a bee in the backseat. Stop swatting at it, Richie, you’re just gonna make it mad! Falling asleep on the way home from the amusement park, her brother’s head resting on her shoulder. Sitting in front of Liz Mueller’s house, nervous, smiling, laughing, getting out of the car and waving goodbye from the top of the driveway. Those were the memories Evelyn wanted her mother to hold on to. Not this. Not this.

Sniffling, Evelyn dried her eyes on the sleeve of Patrick’s coat and stood up from the bench. As soon as she turned to leave, an ominous feeling swept over her, as if carried by the wind. Evelyn looked back at the school and thought: The next time I walk through those doors, everything’s gonna be different, isn’t it? Somehow, she just knew that to be true.

Steeling herself, Evelyn put the school behind her, pulled her backpack over her right shoulder, and walked on.

“Well, that’s certainly a look,” Maggie Tozier said, observing her daughter’s choice of outerwear with a bemused smile. “Where did you get that…?”

Without saying a word, Evelyn climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door. She burst into hysterical tears while trying to buckle her seat belt.

The next three minutes passed in a tumultuous blur of panicked shrieks and anguished sobs. Evelyn cowering in the passenger seat, shoulders trembling, chest heaving, fingers splayed across her face. The seat belt, partially retracted, clinging to her right shoulder. Maggie’s distressed voice piercing through the air: “What happened?” Evelyn’s response, strangled and desperate: “Just go! Please, Mom, please, just go!” The school doors opening and closing. Victor Criss emerging with Belch Huggins, stopping on the steps, spotting Maggie’s van, leaning forward and squinting fiercely in the sunlight. Evelyn sinking into her seat and shrinking against the door. “Please, Mom, please, I just wanna go home!” Maggie nodding frantically, not understanding, saying, “Okay, okay, we’ll go, we’ll go!” Slamming her foot on the gas pedal. Turning the wheel. Taking off and gunning down Pasture Road. The outside world flying by, golden and serene. Maggie gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her heart pounding. Head spinning with questions. Evelyn beside her, collapsing into herself, into that coat. Where did she get that coat? Maggie glancing at her, back at the road, running through a stop sign, cursing under her breath, and saying, “Evelyn? Evelyn, you need to talk to me, sweetie. I don’t know what’s going on.”

And finally, she told her; with tears streaming down her face, she told her.

And all Maggie could think about was Cheryl Lamonica—fourteen and pregnant—shaking and screaming in her mother’s arms.

Please, don’t tell Daddy! Please, Momma, please don’t tell Daddy!

Now the van was parked on the shoulder of Center Street. Maggie, who had been paralyzed with grief, reached across the seat and pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her close to her breast while she rocked her gently and soothed her with nonsensical words of comfort, something Maggie never had to do before, not even when Evelyn was a baby.

She was always such a happy child, never crying, never fussing. Maggie and Went thought they were the luckiest parents in the world. Perhaps this is the universe’s cruel way of balancing the scales. Maggie thought this and held her daughter even tighter, stroking the top of her head while she continued to weep savagely against her chest. Maggie’s own tears fell silently and dried on her face. She didn’t know what to do. She never thought this would happen, not to her daughter, not to her family, not to her.

“He ripped my dress, Mom!” Evelyn cried suddenly, her voice muffled by Maggie’s cable knit sweater. “Mrs. Criss’s dress—her beautiful dress—Martin ripped, he ripped it—he ruined it! How am I supposed to return it to her now?”

Maggie’s chest ached at those words. “Sweetie,” she said, pulling away and looking at her, “I don’t think Tabby’s gonna care about her dress.”

Evelyn nodded weakly, sniffling. Maggie cradled her face and dried some of the wetness from her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah…” Evelyn answered huskily, while a single tear clung stubbornly to her bottom lashes. She blinked it away. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She settled back into her seat and stared despondently out the window, her eyes glazed and distant. They were parked beside the public library. From where Evelyn was sitting, she could see the slab of red brick where Henry Bowers had pushed her against the wall and pressed his lips against hers. The memory used to leave her breathless. Now it made her want to cry.

Maggie took the wheel again, her hands clammy and tense. “Okay, Evelyn,” she began uneasily while her eyes darted from street sign to street sign, “where am I going, sweetie? Do we need to go to the police station? To the… hospital? Tell me where you want me to go, honey.”

“I just wanna go home,” Evelyn told her. “Is that okay?”

Maggie’s heart clenched painfully. “Of course,” she said. “Of course that’s okay. We’ll go wherever you want.”

Evelyn smiled—a sad, grateful smile. Then she sat back, burrowed herself deep inside that strange black coat,

(Where did she get that coat?)

and went back to staring out the window.

Maggie watched her daughter for a moment and felt her heart swell with so much love she thought it might burst. Went and I got lucky. God knows we did.

She started the car.

Halfway down Main Street, Evelyn turned toward her mother and asked in a soft, childlike voice, “Are you disappointed with me?”

Maggie’s heart shattered completely. “What?” she said. “Why would I be disappointed with you?”

“Because I am,” Evelyn blurted out and immediately burst into tears again.

Once more, Maggie eased off the gas pedal and prepared to pull over, but it wasn’t necessary this time. Evelyn stopped crying all on her own.

Hugging herself, she said in a low voice: “I always thought I’d be stronger, you know? I told myself I’d be stronger, but…”

The thought of walking into that police station, of walking up to the desk and seeing him there. Having to sit in that chair while he sits across from her, his arms folded over his chest, his cold eyes bearing down on her. Crumbling beneath those eyes. Seeing them slowly darken from bright blue—the same bright blue as Henry’s—to such a terrible, hateful black. Having to relieve everything. Tell him everything. While he glares at her, at her torn yellow skirt, and thinks to himself: She was asking for it, wearing a skimpy little skirt like that. Girl should be glad she wasn’t raped.

(Lucky you. Right?)

No, Evelyn couldn’t do that. She would have rather died than do that.

Besides, nothing would come of it anyway. Evelyn learned that lesson a long time ago… when she dared to tell her teacher about a bruise she’d discovered on her classmate’s neck.

“Henry was there,” she rasped. It pained her to say it, but she did.

At once, Maggie looked at her. All the color had drained from her face. “What?”

“He was there, Mom. He was there and he didn’t do anything.”

Saying these words out loud made Evelyn’s heart throb with unbearable pain, but she didn’t cry; somehow, she didn’t cry. Maybe she had finally run out of tears for him.

“You know he’s done a lot of messed up things to me over the years, but… I dunno, I guess I always thought that… that when it mattered, that when I really needed him…” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “I guess I’m pretty stupid, huh?”

“No,” Maggie said. “No, honey, you’re not stupid. And if you are, then so am I… I never thought he would do something like that.”

Or rather she hoped he wouldn’t.

At the next red light, Maggie said in a tired voice, “This has to stop now, Evelyn. I’m sorry, but it has to stop. I’ve tried to be patient, I’ve tried to be understanding, but I just can’t deal with this anymore. I can’t and I won’t. Okay? It’s too much. It’s too much. I tried to let you handle it, but you didn’t so now I’m going to. This is done, Evelyn. It’s done. I don’t want Henry coming to the house anymore. I don’t want him calling you anymore. Yeah, I know he’s the one always calling here, Evelyn, and it’s done now, okay? It’s done. I don’t want him sneaking into the house at night. I don’t want you sneaking off to go see him. I don’t care if he needs you, I don’t care if he loves you. It’s done, Evelyn. All of this is done. If I ever see him around the house again, I’m calling his father and—”

Evelyn jumped in her seat as if struck. Terror closed around her throat.

(??WHAT??)

(!!BUT YOU CAN’T!!)

“—and yes, Evelyn, yes, I know EXACTLY what that means for him!”

Evelyn flinched back, startled. The strength of her mother’s voice left her shaken. It’s done now… it’s done… done… is it really done? Tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision, but still she nodded. She nodded and she understood.

“It’s enough now, Evelyn,” Maggie said, but there was no triumph in her voice, none at all.

A somber silence fell over the cabin then. The van pulled forward, made a left turn onto Summer Street, and continued down the road. Evelyn already knew what was waiting for her at the end of this road. She knew and she was ready for it.

She would have to face Henry sooner or later.

_____________________

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#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #henry bowers fanfiction #patrick hockstetter fanfiction #it fanfiction #it stephen king #it 2017 #fanfiction #fanfic #paper men #ambrossart

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i-smell-sass · 2 months

Note

Can you do Patrick hockstetter x male reader who is Richie’s brother and used to be really good friends with the bowers gang but Patrick mostly. Then they all bullied Richie and reader split from them. But Patrick is in love with him and the feeling is mutual. Sorry if that’s a lot lol

Of course! I also kinda had a scenario of that in my head. Can't promise the fanfic will be written anytime soon, but when it does i will tag you!

#x male reader #fanfic #male reader #fanfiction #it2017 #bowers gang #patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter x male reader

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roadkill-writes · 2 years

Text

Bower’s gang part 3

Authors note: I absolutely hate this and think it’s to short but it’s been like months in the making so here’s something at least.

Please read the other parts before this one it’ll make more sense!!

Prompt: 6. “I literally don’t know how someone can be that stupid”

Prompt 4. “Why would you prank me with something like that?!”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for that long walk home by yourself. It was a thirty minute ride up could only imagine how long it was for you on the way back. Worst of all it started raining so now you’re soaked and upset but at least you can’t tell that you’ve been crying.

It was dark out by the time you rounded the corner of your street, you could see your house in the distance the lights were off reminding you that you were in fact alone, that your parents were away on a business trip or whatever they called it that month. Barging through the front door you slammed it behind you making sure to lock it as well, you didn’t want those asshole boys coming in.

You started crying again by the time you made it up the stairs rounding the bend to your room, flopping on the bed face first while crying seemed like the best bet for you at that moment in time so you did. Crying yourself to sleep not even hearing the banging on the front door. Waking up the next morning was rough your eyes were all puffy and you felt uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, you earned a hot shower after yesterday’s fiasco, your clothes were still in fact damp.

Slipping out of the damp clothes you climbed into the shower. Basking in the warm water felt great against your sore muscles. You barley had the energy to shower but you knew you needed to. Turning the knobs to the faucet off and slinking out of the shower to grab ahold of your towel your hand in turned just grabbed air. You would have sworn you had grabbed a towel from your room before coming in here, that’s peculiar? You shook it off believing you had really just forgotten. Turning the knob to the door and putting it open, you heard the chuckles. You quickly slammed the door shut.

“Haha!”

”Oh that’s great!”

”Do ya mind if I have a peak?”

”Did we have to do that?”

You heard the four voices coming out of your room, shaking your head in disbelief. “This isn’t funny! Nor was the events of yesterday!”

You kept your hand on the doorknob and your back against the door with your feet firmly planted to the ground in hopes of they tried they wouldn’t be able to enter the enclosed room you bared to stand naked in.

“Oh come on sweetheart, everyone thinks we’re all fuckin’ anyway.” Henry called from outside of the door.

The continuous drops of water from your hair seemed to be in set with your heart rate.” Henry, I would very much like my towel back! Thank you!”

“Not a chance doll!”

“Oh come’on Henry give the towel back it was funny while it lasted.” Vic coming to be your saving grace, or so you would only hope.

“Fuckin’ fine, here open the door.” You shook your head again. Not a fucking chance you were opening the door while they stood on the opposite side.

“Nope drop it there and walk away from it.”

You heard Henry laugh at your words again, did he really think you were that dumb. Maybe?

“Ya know yesterday was all a prank right? Like we didn’t actually disappear. Hell you had Vic half tempted to call search and rescue, you know how worked up he can get.”

“Why would you prank me with something like that?!”

“Because it was funny! Now open the door and grab your towel!”

“Fuck off Henry!”

#bowers gang x reader #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #it 2017 #x reader #Henry bowers X reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #victor criss x reader #belch Huggins x reader #pennywise #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #fanfic #fanfiction #it imagines #it imagine #bowers gang

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r0mantic-k1ller · 6 months

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my mood board for my first finshed wattpad story

perfect girl (patrick hockstetter x oc) - book aesthetic - Wattpad

#patrick hockstetter #it 2017 #bowers gang #fanfic #book #wattpad

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f4er1e-g1rl · 7 months

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ITS POSTED‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

#80s #fanfic #it 2017 #patrick hocksetter imagine #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #smut #bowers gang #henry bowers #victor criss #belch huggins #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stan uris #richie tozier #mike hanlon

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anubisandco · 10 days

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Chapter one: You're not a dog

Patrick Hockstetter x OC (Delilah Huggins)

Summary:

Patrick didn't know what she was, and He hated it. Delilah Huggins was something he couldn't figure out, He hated her. He hated the way she made his chest feel. Delilah didn't know a single thing about Patrick, nothing substantial at least. But she wanted to know him, everything about him.

Someone has to lose the game. The game that Patrick was very good at cheating at.

~~~

At first, it had bothered her, The heavy feeling of his eyes on her all the time. It took a while to realize that Patrick just liked to watch, his gaze was usually cold and distant, his dark brown eyes filled with nothing not even hatred. Just simply uncaring, But he watched her every move nonetheless.

Reggie had warned her ahead of time but Delilah didn’t actually understand what he meant until she had met Patrick in the school parking lot. She saw him lurking around Reggie’s usual parking spot, He reminded her of a spider. Long, and gangly he had the same spooky feeling as well. She could feel his eyes the moment she climbed out of the Trans am, his empty smile greeted her. He flicked his lighter open and closed, open and closed, open and closed.

He never said a word to her as they stood in the parking lot listening to Henry yell at any student passing by, she watched the crowd thin as people made their way inside the brick building and tried to ignore Patrick at the same time.

She shivered when she felt him standing behind her, his breath warm on her neck competing with the summer breeze. Even after Reggie very aggressively told him to knock it off, Patrick walked her to her locker and then to class. He flirted with her the entire time, and she couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

As the weeks went by He’d climb through her window and watch as she lay on her floor finishing her assignments, he never once took off his dirty black boots, even when he lay on her white bedspread. Patrick would lay in the same spot anytime he came over, his hands behind his head and he’d stare until he got bored.

After a while, he’d make a big deal about the silence and get up, she barely paid attention as he stepped over her in those dirty boots to her record player. The one her mom gave her for her birthday like three years ago, Delilah would, in turn, watch him as he dug through her music collection until he found something he didn’t hate, which was hard to do.

She’d sit up at this point in the night and close her notebooks and smile as he made himself at home on her floor next to him.

“ This one again?” Her voice was playful and quiet, His only answer was to pinch her thigh and close his eyes.

She couldn’t even remember where she got this record, maybe from her parents' garage before she had moved to Derry, the classical music was heavy in the room, and the disk hadn’t had a case when she took it. Delilah couldn’t understand why Patrick liked this one so much, he picked it almost every time.

The summer breeze was hot like her blowdryer as it came through her open window, the white lace curtains she’d hung up moved with it. He had a habit of leaving the window open whenever he came through it. Delilah complained every time but he’d smile at her and she’d forget why she hated it so much.

“D’you ever get bored of this place?” He asked, in his usual Patrick way, Delilah wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to understand where his head was at. He was so back and forth, he’d say one thing and then the opposite the very next moment.

“ What do you mean?” She opened her notebook again trying to pick up where she’d left off on her math homework, His back was against her bed. “ Like Derry or this house?”

Patrick looked up at her poster-covered ceiling, he had read them all at least twelve times over by now, his eyes landed on the same one every time. The Alice in Wonderland poster she had pinned right above her pillows, the Cheshire cat sat lazily on a tree branch smiling down at helpless little Alice, the woods around them were dark and swirly.

“ Either, both, anything.”

“ No, not really it’s all new to me still.” Delilah shrugged as she erased a stray pencil mark, “ But New York was definitely better.” She said decidedly. Her parents were supposed to move down in January with her, but then plans changed and it had been March. March came and went and now they didn’t even bother to give her a month.

She didn’t hate living with her Aunt and Reggie, but it never felt like home, it felt like a sleepover. You could never really get comfortable.

He grabbed onto a stray lock of hair twirling it in his fingers, he pulled on it just a little bit not enough to hurt but she could feel it.

“ You know the longer you’re here the less likely you are to leave.” He whispered, her eyes met his. Delilah had no reply to this, She knew all the rumors about Patrick. It was hard not to hear them when that’s all anyone at school could talk about, even Reggie had to tell her all about him.

He’d never been mean to her, he’d never tried to hurt her. But listening to the stories she couldn’t help but let her mind wander that direction. This could have been a threat, but her heart was telling her it wasn’t. He wouldn’t.

But he really would.

“ I don’t believe you.” She said and went back to her homework, one quick glance at her clock told her it was almost time for Patrick to slither back out of her window. She never told him to leave because he wouldn’t, you couldn’t tell Patrick to do anything when you did he took it as a challenge. But he always left around the same time every night, eleven thirty-five give or take.

Delilah used to complain about that too, how tired she would be in the morning He’d laugh at her and continue to make himself comfortable, it became a part of her routine. Some nights he’d come and others he wouldn’t, She never asked where he was when he didn’t come over. It didn’t feel right to ask that sort of question, they weren’t together and it didn’t matter if they were anyway, he didn’t like to answer questions.

For everyone knowing so much about him they really knew very little about who he was, Patrick was a mystery he wouldn’t let anyone solve.

She was sure Reggie knew he came over by now, but he never said anything to her about it, after he had his conversation with her about how he felt about the whole situation Reggie said nothing more on the topic. He wasn’t her father and he knew that, sure he’d keep an eye on her because he knew what kind of guy Patrick was but he had no authority to tell her that she couldn’t see him.

People at school had noticed right away how Patrick treated her, Delilah was his new person of interest and that meant she was off limits.

He’d slither up next to her when the Trans am would pull into the school parking lot, his arm would find its way around her shoulders. Which must have been a sight in itself, Patrick was tall and thin like a toothpick, and Delilah was short and thick. Her mother used to describe her as a pear, it used to bother her until it didn’t anymore. She never said a word to him about the way he’d touch her, choosing the route of ignoring him, and maybe just maybe he’d get bored.

Delilah after a while wasn’t sure if she wanted him to get bored, it was wrong he was one of her cousins' friends, and maybe a creep. But there was something so alluring about Patrick, like a black cat on Halloween.

The only time they were alone was in her bedroom late at night, any other time it was a crowded hallway or with the boys.

It was a chilly Monday morning Delilah stood by her open locker flipping through textbooks, her tights were slightly itchy and she had forgotten her coat. She already knew without looking at the clock that she’d be late for first period.

“Delilah.” Patrick’s voice was thick as usual, the way he said her name instead of hello made her heart to a back flip in her chest. He never said good morning to her, never said hello. He’d start every conversation with her name, sometimes he’d drag it out other times he’d purr like a cat.

She didn’t look up this time as she continued to flip through her work.

“Morning Patrick.”

“ You wore my favourite skirt.”

She looked down at the little black skirt she wore, it was totally not up to the dress code sitting high on her thighs, which is why she wore the tights. It wasn’t anything special, something she’d owned for years never thinking about. When she met his gaze he was smiling at her, he leaned casually on the locker next to hers.

“ I didn’t know.” She offered with a shrug, this was the game they played, Delilah would act as if she didn’t care when they both knew it was a lie.

“ Makes your ass look nice.” He leaned closer to her, another thing she noticed quickly was just how little he cared about personal space. Delilah rolled her eyes closing her locker. She shoved her work into her backpack, when she held it out to him she didn’t expect for him to actually take it. But he did.

“ Jeez Patrick you sure know how to romance a girl.” She scoffed brushing past him, her arm touching his chest as she went. She hadn’t made it two steps before he already caught up, his long legs making it impossible to outrun him. Patricks' arm found its usual place around her shoulders, his thick coat sleeve was rough against the back of her neck.

They walked down the empty hall toward her first class of the day, she wasn’t sure of his schedule but he always seemed to be waiting for her after her classes no matter where or when they were.

“Admit it, you like it.” He had her backpack over his other shoulder, “It turns you on.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“That’s like asking a dog to stop barking babe.”

Delilah could do nothing but roll her eyes in that moment, unsure of what else to say to him. To be fair she never quite knew what to say to him, having a conversation with him was like taking a toddler to get shots at the doctor's office. Most of the time he'd dodge you or simply ignore you, other times it was impossible to get him to shut up.

He mostly did the second one when Henry was around, he liked to get on his nerves. Nothing made Patrick happier than seeing Henry red like a tomato, yelling terrible words.

She stopped at her classroom door and he quite literally dropped her bag, she winced at the sound of everything inside hitting the floor.

He didn’t stop walking only turned around to face her as he continued on his way, Delilah knew he wasn’t going to whatever class he was supposed to be in right now. She was never really sure where Patrick went and she was certain she didn't wanna find out.

“ I’ll see you after class Patrick.” She bent down to pick up her backpack, He smiled his toothy grin, his cold eyes locked on hers.

“Delilah.”

~~~

When the thin wooden door opened after the bell rang, she was greeted with the sight of Patrick leaning casually against the wall across from it, his long black coat was an ink stain on the drab cream wall behind him.

Reggie had just got done hissing something in his ear by the time she reached them through the sea of people. Her cousin seemed tense, which was normal when he was around Patrick.

Reggie was a tall kid for his age, he was thick too but unlike Delilah, his was mostly muscle from working on his car and often times his mom's too. He was by no means a scary kid though, the way he held himself told everyone he wasn’t really the threat they thought he was, sure he could kick ass when he needed to. Or wanted to for that matter. But he was always gonna be the last one to throw a punch, he hated fighting and always had.

It was always a mystery to Delilah how he got mixed up with Henry and Vic, someone like him was meant to be the hero.

Growing up Delilah had always been the one to get into fights in school, and Reggie would always be the one to bail her out. He was her best friend.

“ What’s going on?” She asked cocking her head, she had to speak a little louder in the hallway with all the voices echoing around them.

“ Your Rottweiler got out of its yard.” Patrick drawled crossing his arms over his chest but didn’t get off the wall, his eyes traced her body then flicked over to her cousin when he added, “ We all know just how much I love dogs.”

Vic had made a joke a few days ago about Reggie being her guard dog of sorts, something Patrick clearly hasn’t forgotten. The warning he gave hit home as Reggie took a step back the frown still on his face. The rumor about the fridge and all the missing pets jumps to her mind.

“He’s more of a retriever.” Delilah shrugged walking in the general direction of the lawn, not caring to be in the middle of their pissing match this time. The sound of Patrick laughing followed her.

Reggie grumbled something to him before catching up to her.

“ Mom’s gonna be gone tonight I invited Henry and Vic over.” He told her gently, and with a much different demeanor than he had moments ago. “ You don't have to stay.” Reggie really was all bark and no bite. She smiled at the thought.

“ If you’re ordering Pizza I’ll stay.” She offered, in reality, she didn’t mind hanging around the boys, sure Henry wasn’t her favourite person in the world, and she was far from his. But all in all they weren’t too bad, unless you were one of the freshmen or literally anyone else.

“ Deal, Vic’s gonna bring over some movies too.”

~~~

“ What would I be?”

The sound of Patrick's voice startled her, Delilah had been painting her fingers and toes in her room, the door was closed but the sound of the three boys downstairs could still be heard, and she dropped the brush.

Her window had been closed but not locked, He was halfway in when he had spoken. For someone as tall as he was his silence was terrifying.

Delilah was Screaming before she could process anything, but his hand covered her mouth before she could really make any noise.

“ No, Delilah.” He whispered he smelled like fire and something she couldn’t explain, his skin was softer than she thought it’d be. His hand left her face but didn’t go far, it rested on her bent knee, she’d been painting her toes when he scared her, and the nice pastel blue was now all over the carpet.

Her eyes were still wide, his face just inches from hers, he scanned her face waiting for an answer to his previous question.

“ W-What?”

“ What would I be, if Belch is a Retriever, what am I?”

Oh.

She hadn’t even thought about that since it had happened, she couldn’t help but wonder why it was so important to him. She just stared at him for a while, he barely even blinked. Patrick would wait all night if that’s what it took, he’d get his answer.

Henry downstairs laughed very loudly at something Vic said causing Reggie to tell him to shut up, their movie could be heard in the silent room. The breeze caused her to shiver a little. He tilted his head to the right.

“ You’re not a dog.” She offered quietly, “ You’re like a cat. Why?” her question would go unanswered, he broke their eye contact to pick up the bottle of nail polish he looked at it for a long moment.

“ I like the blue.”

“ Thanks.”

He sat back away from her, not far his knee touched her leg still because he had to. He still wore the clothes he was in at school but his jacket was long gone, there was mud on his shoes and on the bottom of his pant legs. He’d been in the woods.

Patrick set the small bottle back on the book she’d been using as a flat surface, So he was staying for a while then. Delilah picked up the brush and began to finish painting her toes, it was strange that she didn’t even really feel him there anymore, her body wasn’t on edge like it had been when he first started hanging around.

In fact she sorta liked him being around, the move to Derry had been harder than she would have liked to admit to anyone, even Reggie. Patrick coming around and staying was one steady thing she didn’t know she’d have.

She’d finished the first coat and was about to begin the second when he spoke.

“You’re not a dog.” He paused and she stopped moving, the brush hovering over her pinky, “ Or a cat, I don’t know what you are and I don’t like it.”

It wasn’t often that Patrick offered up things like that, he rarely said anything of substance, a gross joke or comment. Something disturbing or even just making fun of some of the younger kids at school.

She looked at him through her lashes, afraid that if she’d make eye contact she’d realize she was dreaming. His already dark eyes were pitch black in the light of her lamp, She once had asked Reggie if Patrick was always a starer. He simply laughed and nodded as if it was some sort of joke she didn’t understand.

Patrick was always the last one to break eye contact, like a contest of sorts.

“ I’m sorry.” Delilah didn’t know what to say to him, most of the time she didn’t know what to say to him, he always took her words.

“ Don’t” He stood up quickly startling her again, she put the brush back in the bottle and watched him as he moved back to the window, she was afraid he was leaving already, like she’d ruined it.

Delilah was taken by surprise when he instead closed her window with a dull thud, cutting off the strangely cold breeze. She’d been freezing but she hadn’t said anything knowing he wouldn’t care, the tank top she wore to bed had done nothing against the Derry night air. Of course, he’d noticed her shivering, the goosebumps on her arms, it was strange for him to do something about it.

She almost told him he could take his shoes off. Almost.

“ I should go downstairs.” He turned back to her with his shit-eating grin, his mood taking a sudden turn after his almost serious conversation, “ Say hi to Belch.”

“ Patrick he’ll kill you if he sees you come from my room.” Delilah stands too, painting her nails long forgotten.

His smile only widened as he pushed past her, his shoulder hitting hers on his way past her. Patrick opened her bedroom door and she could only watch as he stepped out into the hallway and looked around.

“ C’mon Delilah.” He held out his hand for her, she looked from his open palm to his face. Just when she thought she was finally getting to know just who he was Patrick would throw a curve ball. She grabbed a jacket from her bed and set her hand in his, He held on tight as he marched down the stairs into the living room.

Whatever joke Vic had been making about the shitty horror movie they had on died on his lips as he caught sight of Patrick and her on the stairs together. The soda can in his hand lowered from his mouth which hung open.

Reggie turned around in his chair to see what he was watching. Delilah wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him stand up so fast before. The paper plate with his slice of pizza fell to the floor with a wet thump. Even Henry was at a loss for words, his eyebrows melted into a frown easily.

“ What the fuck?” Henry was the first one to speak.

“ Delilah!” Reggie's voice was loud, she dropped Patrick's hand at the sound. She wasn’t afraid of him, but she also didn’t wanna make him mad, this was Reggie after all. She stepped around Patrick to stand between him and everyone else. Vic took a small drink of his soda eyes flicking between an absolutely irate Reggie and a grinning Patrick.

“What is he doing here, When did he even get here?” Reggies fired off question after question, “ Why was he in your room?” He made his way closer.

“I’ve been nice to her Reg.” Patrick’s voice was sickly sweet, using the nickname Delilah had given her cousin years ago.

“ Shut up Patrick!” Delilah threw over her shoulder, sometimes she hated him she really did. “Reggie, nothing happened he’s just weird, I didn’t invite him over, even if I did nothing was gonna happen.” She directed these words at her cousin, His eyes narrowed.

“ Something could have happened.”

“ Patrick.” Her voice was another warning, if he kept it up she’d kick his ass before Reggie even got the chance.

“ Delilah you know how I feel about it.” Reggie wouldn’t even look at Patrick now, “ He’s a sicko.”

“ Yeah, we’ve covered that. But I've discovered he’s very persistent when he wants to be.” She took a step closer to Reggie crossing her arms over her chest, Her voice got quieter her eyes jumped to Henry and Vic who watched quietly. She could tell Henry was waiting for a fight to break out ready to jump in, it didn’t matter that he didn’t care. Henry was always willing to throw hands. Vic watched with a more worried look on his face, he would be the one to try and de-escalate the situation if need be.

“ Listen, Reggie, I’m smart I’d kick his ass if he tried anything I didn’t like. You know I can handle myself.” He watched her his shoulders dropped letting go of the tension just a little bit.

She was right and he knew it, Delilah was strong and more than capable. Reggie always saw her as someone he had to take care of just like his mom, they were his two favourite people and the fact that someone like Patrick and weaseled his way into her life bothered him like nothing else.

He’d seen how Patrick treated any of the girls he’d been with before, the list was long and it always ended with someone, always the girl getting hurt in some way or another. Reggie would be damned if he’d let it happen to his cousin.

“ It’s not you, I’m worried about.” He watched Patrick over her head, the tall boy smiled and waved a little. He knew what he was doing, and Reggie wasn’t sure just how far he’d go with this thing of his. With a guy like him, no one knew where it’d end.

Delilah smiled and shook her head.

“ Can we all just sit down and finish this movie?” She asked looking to Vic for help, He nodded and sat back down turning to the tv that had previously been forgotten. “ You and I can talk later Reg.” She offered knowing she’d dodge the conversation for as long as possible.

Whatever was going on with her and Patrick she wasn’t really ready to talk about, with anyone for that matter.

She felt Patrick move to stand close behind her, his breath on her neck.

#fanfiction #fanfic #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter x reader #it 2017 #pennywise #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the losers club #henry bowers #belch huggins #horror

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