#bc im devious like that
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loooove how we’ve decided that kaz is just the emo kid bc he wears all black. like he wears black for the aesthetic or whatever. when inej actually states in the second chapter that he wears all black to mock the merchant council, who all wear black, by wearing black
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gays4vulo · 27 days ago
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Actually speaking of my one shot do I be a little devious bc one of you has a really tasty hook in ur backstory that would fit so nicely.....
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twinknote · 3 months ago
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bywhatilove · 2 years ago
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i think i was just fed too much stevie/nate bestie, holmes /watson, chaotic duo in the box in the woods bc i’m 3/4 of the way through nine liars and i am DEPRIVED OF NATE CONTENT IM SUFFERING !!!!!!!
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lovedsick · 1 year ago
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……. .. whom want a one liner 😦
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tinkywinkyschauffeur2 · 11 months ago
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when I finally finish DotMPC i want the reading experience to be like:
noooooo
oh that's kinda fun
NOOOOOOO
don't you dare--
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
god no
jfc what is wrong with you people
oh wow that's written really well im sure the author is so smart and cool and sexy aha
WHY ARE THEY ALL DYING
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT
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warriorfujoshi · 1 year ago
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who is this haru and what is his deal
haru is the worlds specialest unmedicated bisexual menace with a gnc swag who skips and smiles thru the horrors while having the best gay sex filled summer vacation of his life ever topping previously-straight men 🥳🥳🥳!!!!
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REAL ANSWER: haru is the protagonist of the 2013 r18 bl game “NO, THANK YOU!!!” by parade and he is one of my favouritest characters ever 🥹…!
this got long so i put the rest under the readmore 🥹🥹🥹
at the beginning of the game he sees a man named inui kouichi about to get hit by a car, jumps to push him out of the way, and gets hit instead. he loses his memories because of this. due to not knowing basic details like his name or age, kouichi decides to offer him a job at his bar, sótano, while he recovers! will haru get his memories back…!? will romance blossom between him and his coworkers…!? i wonder…!!!
he is 22 years old(?) and canonically bisexual! he loves pools, bean daifuku, corn on the cob, and boobs! the quote used on his official profile is “all right, i’ve got it! let’s have sex!” he has a childish curiosity about everything and operates under an indecipherable set of principles. (<- also from his official profile)
hes definitely not for everybody bc hes always saying shit like this ↓…
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and he likes to test peoples boundaries… and he sometimes does morally questionable things… but i think he is not only really cute but also a really relatable representation of…! well…! brain damage. mental illness. being a bisexual guy with a high ponytail who wants to fuck big hairy titted old guys… he’s just a silly imp who goes through a lot but stays optimistic despite it all…!!! i love him so much 🥹 hes literally this ↓ ok. Do you trust me
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if ur interested in playing nty PLEASEEE make sure you check out the content warnings! 🥹🥹🥹 if you want more detail on those or the recommended route order or any other info, feel free to send me another ask…!
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sadserotonin · 2 years ago
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so you’ve got your murder husbands wires crossed... aka a comprehensive method to our madness @lewistan
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nomaishuttle · 2 years ago
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me 4 hours ago: I will simply wrap up summer and then go to bed :]
the little devil who lives in my savefile: You should do the first day of fall too so that you dont forget the layout you have planned
me:This is true...
me 4 hours later covered in blood visibly shaken:
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victory-cookies · 4 months ago
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a few chapters into the great gatsby and it pains me to admit that it’s good and I’m enjoying it
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lovevalley45 · 4 months ago
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i am gonna be thinking abt that callie n glen scene a shameful amount ik but i was like. that shit would make the dark romance booktok girlies go crazy in like a “that’s so romantic” way i know it,,,
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hall0wedwyrm · 9 months ago
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GUYS IVE MADE A DISCOVERY AND IDK WHAT TO DO
Okay so this might not mean anything... but In Shadow 2005 theres an Level in the Dark Route called Digital Circuit. and Black Doom says its called Cyberspace.
I IMMEDIATELY thought of Frontiers. I literally had to confirm that it was also called Cyberspace and i wasnt going crazy. Its called Cyber Space. but cmon its literally the same name. theres just a gap.
I remember the Black Arms were mentioned in frontiers too, which is why im thinking maybe the Ancients and the BAs could have figured out that this existed?? idk thats just a wild idea though lol
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groundbreakingdot872 · 2 years ago
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the tags roasting that old man in dragon fire ! Lol
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again
21st century Merlin is an absolutely horrific driver. The worst.
#there’s never been a truer stamenent in the history of mankind#he drives with the ‘brains of a donkey and a RBF that can be compared to the face of a toad’ 😂#getting his driver’s license was a whole other dilemma oh boy!#the devious old guy came in with more than 20 different costumes each correlating to a new test on the same day#of course the instructor turned down each one - not because she could tell they were different people no! - but bc Merlin stupidly forgot#to bring his permit for each one 🤦‍♀️#the engine lights on permanently im the tires are pretty much personified because they squeal and scream for mercy on the road#and her treats the old shit box terribly (he makes up for it because how *dare* cars put horses out of a job or something 🙄)#‘I’ve never been in an accident’ yeah yeah tell that to poor Freya who’s had to resurface at least three different Camaros from the bottom#of the lake!#this is such a good hc omg#so many possibilities for absolute crankiness#so much stupid stuff on merlin’s record he’ll never fess up to#like the time he got pulled over for driving drunk and tried to pull a trick that Gwaine taught him long ago with the bar keepers but#DEFINITELY won’t fly with the 21st century police#LMAO#random passerbys recognizing Merlin’s erratic driving like yes offICER that’s the man who nearly RAN me over yesterday and Merlin trying to#pull the ‘sweet old man look 🥺’ to no avail#just more Merlin being an absolute MENANCE on the road#bbc merlin#bbc merlin headcanons#merlin emrys
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hanniesbrat · 5 days ago
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the boy is mine | k.mg
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pet play w mingyu
pairing: kim mingyu x reader, reader’s best friend is yuqi! ((g)i-dle) also cheol lol
wc: 5.6k (can you believe i cut it down?)
genre: strangers -> fucking, smut, little cracky at some parts
synopsis: when one of your best friends (who also happens to be a frat bro), seungcheol, invites you to his halloween party, you hesitantly accept. you were never really the party type… but one guy, one of his new friends to be exact, might single handedly change that.
!other kinktober fics!
a/n: ......heyyyyy... no one hate me. i know im almost a whole month late ): prepping for the svt concert took more time than i anticipated, i live in america so... yeah all that happened, work got in the way, i had a lot of yap days with my wife @jenoslutie which has been so nice!! <3 and i JUST (literally today) got back from visiting my bestie @goblynnrockz for their birthday :p BUT in between all that, i managed to finish this bitch. (pun intended) ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, i really hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. and if it seems like its eluding to there being a potential relationship between mc and gyu, well... maybe there will be in the future ;p
(P.S. you must picture long, wavy haired mingyu in this :3 more like the pic on the right. i just put the lolla pic bc it fits the vibe you CANNOT argue w that lol okay imma stop yapping now. ENJOY LUVLIES!!!!)
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you weren’t the party type, but when one of your best friends, seungcheol, invited you to his frat’s halloween party with a nearly quivering bottom lip, you couldn’t say no.
“you have to let me bring whoever i want as my plus one.” you deadpanned while crossing your arms.��
“so you’ll go?!” he nearly squealed. 
you sighed before nodding with an annoyed, “yes.”
“fuck yeah!” he yelled before swooping you up in a big hug. you couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from your chest. 
you loved when cheol got all giddy. it was such a silly contrast to his wide, strong build, and that’s always been so enduring yet hilarious to you. you didn’t think anyone else like him existed in real life. 
until you met him. 
“remind me again why you are dragging me to a party?” your best friend, yuqi, chuckled out from the passenger’s seat of your car. 
you took the last right before reaching the house. “cheol asked nicely and… i’ve been needing an excuse to wear these boots,” you smiled, looking for a parking spot.
yuqi silently pointed to a spot on the street, and as you parked, she went on. “i just can’t help but wonder why cheol wanted you to go so bad like… he knows you’re not a partier.”
“he wants me to get out of my shell more.” you shrugged, getting out of the car. 
“well you’re definitely out of your shell, fucking look at you. a full latex outfit and tits out? girl…” yuqi gawked at you for a moment.
dressing as blackcat was far out of your costume comfort zone. normally you went the horror route. billy the puppet, jennifer check (in the prom dress with the contacts, blood and all), freddy krueger, etc. so, wearing a latex set that left nothing to the imagination except for any ink you may have on your skin was out of character, but you wanted to spice it up this year.
“i think the little mask helps be feel a bit hidden,” you giggled seen as it’s a thin black eye mask, not hiding who is under it at all. yuqi jokingly scoffed and you then took the attention off yourself. “look at you, catwoman. you look devious with that whip,” you cooed, then took her hand in yours and gave her a spin on the sidewalk.
“oh stop it,” she blushed. “let’s get inside before it starts getting too crazy.”
you two walked in practically attached at the hip. you scanned the front room for cheol, yuqi doing the same. “ah! there he is,” she pointed toward the kitchen.
you looked over, immediately making eye contact with him. he waved you guys over to stand with him and some frat bro you didn’t recognize. 
“y/n!” he greeted you with a bear hug, unfazed by your tits practically spilling from your top. “and yuqi! hey long time no see!” he said sweetly, giving her a side hug.
“hi! it’s good to see you, cheol,” she giggled. 
“are you gonna introduce us?” you motioned to his friend beside him and smiled. 
the friend smiled and reached a hand out, “hey, i’m chan! nice to meet you both.” after shaking both of your hands, a warm smile across his face, he turned around to finish concocting a drink for himself. 
“you know we have a spare room. if you guys want, you can have some drinks! chan makes a mean lemon drop.” cheol offered you both. 
yuqi got a devilish smile on her face, “don’t mind if i do, fred. one lemon drop, please, daphne!” she giggled leaning backwards on the counter next to chan, watching what he was doing over her shoulder. she faced forward after a moment and motioned her head toward you. “what about you miss latex?” she smirked giving you a once over. the girl wasn’t even drinking yet and she was already getting flirty. typical. (<3)
“don’t even let her answer that,” seungcheol quickly intervened. “make blackcat a drink, please. the pretty lady deserves it,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around you. 
“well thank you, cheolie… but deserve it? for what?” you asked cutely, looking up at him. 
“putting up with my bitchass. thank you for coming tonight. i’m glad you did,” he stated sweetly, giving you a kiss atop your head. you just leaned into him, silently telling him “you’re welcome” and “me too”. 
“what’s up?” you look over at chan who’s finishing your drink up, and he’s got his phone between his ear and shoulder. “oh shit okay! we’ll be right out!” he hung up, sliding the phone in his pocket, then turned around handing you your drink. “pretty lady,” he smiled. “cheol lets go. that was vernon, they’re outside.” he said, patting cheol on the shoulder, making his way out of the kitchen hurriedly. 
“okay! you two wait right here, i’ll be back.” seungcheol requested, then ran after chan. 
“oh god,” you walked forward to the counter and turned so your back was leaning on it with yuqi. you two looked out from the kitchen, into the crowd of people that had seemingly gotten significantly larger since you’d arrived minutes ago. “they’ve all gotta be members of the mystery inc huh…” you trailed off.
“i wonder what poor guy they got to be scooby,” yuqi empathized. 
“i bet it’s soonyoung.”
“be so fucking for real, y/n. he’s a fucking tiger every year,” yuqi said pointedly. she was right. 
just then, the room got significantly more quiet meaning- oh those boys and their group entrances…
it was never anything elaborate, but they did have to make their presence known. cheol almost always walking in first as the rest of the boys followed. 
you and yuqi made your way out of the kitchen to the living room, disregarding cheol’s words from earlier. you two managed to push toward the front of the swarm of people that were gathered near the door. shouts then could be heard from all over, praising the commitment of all the boys. first was cheol as fred, then chan as daphne walking alongside wonwoo as velma, and last but not least vernon as shaggy with… not soonyoung as scooby. “who the fuck is that?” you nearly drooled leaning over into yuqi’s ear. 
“wonwoo?” she suggested. 
“no, dumbass, obviously i know wonwoo… who’s scooby?” your voice dropping a cool octave or two in curiosity. 
“i don’t know but… fuck is he fine,” she said bluntly. 
you both had your eyes locked on him until yuqi’s gaze redirected to wonwoo… her main interest right now and always. “if you’ll excuse me,” she hummed, grazing a hand across your shoulder and handing you her whip as she strolled forward toward the tall boy wearing thicker framed glasses than normal.
you made your way back to the kitchen to wait for one of your friends to come back, knowing one of them would find their way to you. 
or so you thought. 
someone did definitely make their way to you, but it wasn’t cheol, yuqi, or even chan. 
“i didn’t know blackcat carried around a whip,” scooby shot you a cheeky smile while reaching beside you on the counter for a drink. 
you smiled, leaning your hip on the counter to face him. “she doesn’t, but cat woman does and she needed me to hold it for her.”
“well… i’m glad she needed you to because it gave me an excuse to talk to you.” you both chuckled, your face getting flushed. he turned, mirroring your position against the counter. “i’m mingyu. i just joined the frat,” he explained rather shy in comparison to his confident demeanor that he approached you with. it was charming. 
“well hello mingyu,” you chuckled, chugging the rest of your lemon drop. “i’m y/n. i’m friends with cheol.”
“oh no way! you’re like… his best friend,” he laughs trying his drink. you giggled watching his face contort at the potency of the alcohol. “hey don’t laugh! bleh! but it’s nice to finally meet you.” 
“it’s nice to meet you too,” you covered your mouth to snicker a bit more as if that makes it any less “mean”. 
once he recovered a moment later, he sat his cup down and spoke up again. “you know, y/n, you make a beautiful blackcat,” he complimented, giving you a once over as respectfully as he could. from the minute he laid eyes on you when yuqi had walked way from you, he knew he had to talk to you. your little whip that didn’t go with your costume was his perfect excuse, and… you looked amazing. that could’ve even been enough of an excuse on its own. 
your cheeks grew warm at the compliment with his demeanor and tone. it’d shifted to something more sensual than before. his eyes getting darker, but still soft. 
“thank you,” you smiled before reaching up to play with one of his ears. “and you make an adorable puppy.” 
his body stiffened, but it was so subtle you almost didn’t notice. you chose to ignore it, moving to his collar. “did minghao make this?” you asked, tilting your head admiring the well recreated scooby dog tag. you pulled on it a little, as if to test its durability, but really you wanted to see if this was doing something to the tall man before you. sure enough, you watched as he swallowed rather hard under your touch. you wouldn’t have noticed had you not been staring at his throat already. 
“y-yeah he did. he’s really talented,” he said softly, slightly tilting his head back as you took your finger from the collar, and slowly traced it down his chest that was only covered by a thin, tight brown t-shirt. 
“what’s the matter, scooby? cat got your tongue?” you asked in a very playful way, not wanting to come off too strong too fast as you were already mere centimeters away from his body now. 
when he looked down at you, his eyes were pleading. desperate. like he was silently begging for you to do something more. he couldn’t find the words to answer your silly question. instead he sent his eyes to scan your face, lingering longer over your lips. 
“gyu!” you both jumped back from each other. up pranced soonyoung, but he wasn’t a tiger. “and y/n? hey!” he gave you a hug and you squeezed him back. 
“hey soonyoung!” you gathered your composure far quicker than mingyu who was still trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. “a cowboy this year?” you motioned your hands to his costume. 
“had to change it up,” he shrugged. “still got my date, though,” he grinned. you knew it was the stupid plastic skeleton he dragged along every year in the spirit of the holiday. 
“well, wherever you set her down, i can imagine she goes way better with this outfit than the tiger onesie,” you both laugh.
“girl… a whip? i don’t think blackcat-“
“shutup, i know. it’s yuqi’s. she’s catwoman.” you deadpanned. 
he put his hands up as if to surrender, “got it, no need to use it on me.” you two laughed together again.
mingyu wasn’t enjoying this conversation like you and soonyoung were, however. 
he gently grabbed your wrist while patting soonyoung on the shoulder. “excuse us,” were the first words to come out of his mouth in the past couple minutes. it came out low and demanding, an extreme contrast from the state you had him in before soonyoung showed up. 
you looked at soonyoung then shrugged your shoulders in confusion and blew him a quick kiss, whip in hand as mingyu pulled you away. “have fun!” he yelled after you both. 
“mingyu, where the fuck are we going?” you finally ask as he's pulling you up the stairs.
“my room,” he states bluntly. 
“your room? why didn’t you just get ready here then?” your genuine curiosity taking over. 
mingyu stopped you both in front of his door. “except for cheol and chan, we all got ready at vernon’s,” he answered very matter of fact, then his eyebrows furrowed remembering what he was doing. 
he opened his door, pulling you in with him. once he closed the door, he grabbed you and pushed you against it, hands cupping your face, instantly attacking your lips with his own. your hand naturally found its way to his long, wavy hair while your other rested on his chest. you slightly tugged at his hair, a groan escaping his lips. you smiled and chuckled against his mouth, knowing exactly how this was gonna end, despite his attempts at taking control of the situation. 
he ignored your cockiness, moving a hand to the zipper of your top, toying with it just to be a dick. after about 10 seconds of that, you decided it was enough. 
“why don’t you be a good puppy and unzip me already,” you pull on his hair hard enough to pull him away this time. his eyes desperately searched yours, not understanding, himself, why every time you called him that, it made him feel weak in his knees. 
“o-okay,” he stuttered before unzipping your top the rest of the way. his mouth hung open at the way your tits broke free from the tight latex. “god..” he whispered. eyes still locked on your chest, he tried to speak, “c-can i please-”
“yes,” you breathed, not letting him finish his sentence, knowing exactly what he wanted. 
mingyu wasted no time, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, desperately sucking on the skin as if his life depended on it. a low groan escaped your lips as you finally dropped the whip on the floor, and moved that hand to his back, lightly scratching at him through the thin fabric of his shirt. he moaned against your chest, sending a chill down your spine.
“on your knees,” you demanded. he pulled away from your chest with a rather puzzled expression on his face. “don’t make me say it again,” and with that, he practically dropped to the floor, looking up at you with the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. “good boy,” you praised, petting his head between his ears. you walked over to his bed, sitting yourself down at the edge of it. 
“come,” you said gently. mingyu started to stand up. “nuh uh,” you stopped him. “on all fours.”
“i- but i-,” he tried to protest, stumbling over his words.
“crawl. or i’ll walk out that door right now,” you threatened. 
he immediately got back on his knees, then bent forward, using his arms to help him crawl over to you. he didn’t break eye contact as he made his way to where you sat on his bed, your legs slightly opened. you leaned down, reaching in between your legs for his collar. you hooked two fingers underneath it and pulled him forward. he wrapped his arms around your waist, knees still planted on the floor as he looked at you longingly. 
“what a good puppy,” you cooed, moving your hand from his collar to his hair along with your other hand. you petted him right next to his ears on either side of his head. he hummed, tilting his head to the side, you moving your hand so he could rest his face on it. you thought this was just gonna be a typical dom/sub dynamic, but you quickly started realizing that it was far more than that. 
you leaned down giving him a soft kiss to his lips, making him crave more. he moved his hands up to your face, pulling you back down. you both hungrily attacked each others lips, breathing in every bit of the other. “what the fuck are you doing to me,” he growled between kisses. to be quite honest, you had no idea either. you didn’t even know this man, really. 
“get on the bed,” you demanded, out of breath. he mumbled, “okay,” then stood up and sat in the middle of his bed. “lay down, obviously,” you deadpanned. he felt like an idiot as he laid himself down. he watched you with big eyes as you crawled up his body. you sat yourself on top of him and reached to hook your fingers under his collar again. you used it to pull him up to your level. 
“take your stupid shirt off.” he fumbled with the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. you ripped it from his hands and threw it across the room to god knows where. you pushed him back down, diving after his neck with your mouth. his back arched slightly from the bed as a whimper escaped his lips. as your teeth sunk into his skin, beginning to suck, his chest pressed against yours.
he knew it wasn’t physically possible for him to get closer to your body, but he could try. he was desperate. he craved your warmth. he craved you. a complete stranger. “y/n, please,” he whined.
“please what?” you whispered into his ear, then proceeded to kiss down his neck to his chest. all he could do was make pathetic little noises in response. “cmon, use your words like a good boy, huh?” you cooed looking up at him. you traced your fingers over his large pecs sending chills through his whole body.
“f-fuck,” he threw his head back into the pillow. “fuck me, y/n, please!” he panted, grabbing at the sheets beneath him.
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased as you slipped a hand under his pants, grabbing him through his boxers. you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your mouth when you felt how big he was. he looked down at you with flushed cheeks, embarrassed at how easily he was being turned on by your words alone. 
“i- i would love that, y/n,” his eyes were so desperate, so needy. “c-can i take my pants off?” god, he was so obedient. it excited you beyond your own comprehension. before you could even think about it, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his pants and started shimmying them down his thick, muscular thighs. 
“fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. the tent in his boxers was intimidating to say the least. you sat on his thighs as you pulled his cock out, admiring the way it grew even more at your direct touch. mingyu was panting like a bitch underneath you and you hadn't even started stroking him yet. “easy there, big boy,” you giggled at his uneasiness. as you started pumping him with one hand, you used the other to stabilize yourself above him.
a deep groan ripped from his throat as he screwed his eyes shut at the sensation. “does that feel good, puppy?” you asked innocently. mingyu whimpered and looked into your eyes again, mere inches away. he used all his extra strength to push his head up to capture your lips with his. this kiss was far deeper than the others. it felt… more intimate than before.
“please y/n i need you,” he whispered against your lips. honestly, you needed him too, so instead of continuing the torture any longer, you got off the bed to remove your top completely, and took your pants off. before getting back on top of him, you pulled his pants the rest of the way down, then stood at the edge of the bed, gawking.
this man’s body was godly. skin the perfect shade of gold, soft muscle curves, the slight glisten on his skin as the moonlight from the window reflects off of his sweat. and his face… fuck, his face. the way his eyes glisten with lust and need, his lips swollen and slightly parted as he’s nearly drooling, waiting for you to do something, and to top it all off, his puppy ears on his head with the collar on his neck making him all the more irresistible. 
you climbed back on top of him, his eyes not leaving yours, whether you were looking back at him or not. he only looked away when you started grinding your soaked cunt against his cock. he watched intensely as your slick coated him from top to bottom, his tip leaking precum each time you slid forward. “ready for me to fuck you, gyu?” you nearly whined out, your hands firmly placed on his chest to balance yourself.
“b-been ready, mo-” he stopped himself. “fuuuck please, y/n, please.” he begged. 
“what a good fucking boy you are. don’t even have to ask you to beg.” you lifted yourself, and as if there was a form of telepathy happening, he reached down to lift his cock straight up, ready for you to do nothing but line yourself up and sink down in him. however… you both knew that was going to be painful for you. your nails began to dig lightly into his chest as you slowly sunk yourself down on him. a long string of whimpers falling from your lips while he gripped your hips, helping you steady yourself as you now sat all the way down on his cock. you swiveled your hips a couple times before slowly lifting them and slamming back down onto him without warning. a gasp escaping your own lips.
“ah! Fuck!” mingyu cried out, throwing his head back into the pillows again. the grip he had on your hips only tightened.
you moved your hands to his neck, applying only slight pressure as you started moving up and down on his cock. his breathing became sporadic, and you could feel his veins on his neck starting to bulge under your fingers as you started to pick up your pace. “collar getting too tight?” you breathed. 
“n-no,” mingyu choked out. “mmmph~ i like it,” his voice was hoarse, but soft. his hands finally moved from your hips to roam your body. he dragged them up your waist until he was cupping your tits. he started kneading the flesh, licking his lips as he watched your face start to contort with pleasure. you let go of his neck and put your hands on top of his, over your chest. 
the scene was so beautiful before him, he was growing more and more impatient, needing to chase his high. you threw your head back crying out a “fuck!” as mingyu started meeting each bounce of yours with a sharp thrust. 
“a-am i doing a good job?” he whined, “does it feel good?” all he wanted was your validation and praise. 
“y-yes~ fuck- such a good boy for me,” you cooed as stable as possible. you brought a hand down and combed your fingers through his hair right below his puppy ears. his thrusts slowed and so did you. you hadn’t realized how much of the “fucking” was being done by him now instead of you. he hummed and closed his eyes while you ran your fingers through his hair again. both of your movements came to a complete stop. nothing but cockwarming and heavy breaths while you petted the pretty boy beneath you. 
once he opened his eyes, you gave him a soft smile and he nestled his face into your hand. looking up at you with those puppy eyes, the next words that came out of his mouth were jarring to say the least. “w-will you sit on my face? please?” you could’ve sworn he batted his lashes too. 
you giggled before teasing him, “are you seriously asking to pleasure me right now?” 
“no im fucking begging, y/n please.” he whined. 
“well, when you beg like such a good boy, how could i tell you no, hm?” you hummed before moving your hands to his headboard, climbing up his body, stabilizing yourself over his face. 
he wasted no time trying to attack your core with his tongue, but you didn’t want to let him have it that easily. you moved a hand down to tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. “nuh uh. stick out your tongue,” you demanded. 
“w-what?” his eyes were big with uncertainty. 
“did i stutter? stick out your tongue and stay like a good puppy.” you spit at him, no patience left in your voice. 
so, mingyu did just that. slowly but surely he opened his mouth wide, laying his tongue out for you like the good boy he was. 
you lowered yourself back down onto his tongue, slowly moving your soaked cunt back and forth. he just looked up at you with such adoration in his eyes, but tongue out like an absolute idiot. it was driving you crazy. 
mingyu was going arguably more crazy, though. he wanted to devour you. taste every single inch of you, and lap up every last drop of your arousal like there was no tomorrow. 
you let out a whimper that drove him over the edge, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. he brought his strong arms up, wrapping them around your thighs, locking you in place on his face. you gripped onto his bed frame tighter as he began to suck on your clit with such vigor, you almost came on the spot. 
fuck he’s good at this. 
he then started fucking his tongue in and out of you, using his own strength alone to bounce you up and down slightly on the muscle. 
“mmph~ fuuuck~ mingyu please, don’t stop,” you pleaded, knuckles white from holding onto his headboard for dear life. who was he to deny you? he moved one of his hands from your thigh to the bundle of nerves above where his tongue was fucking in and out of you. as soon as he started rubbing gentle but fast circles on your clit, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. the familiar knot in your tummy forming far faster than you’d like to admit. 
“p-puppy i’m c-close. gonna make me cum,” you half panted, half wailed. 
he moved his mouth away to talk, fingers still working on your clit. 
“cum for me please baby, cum all over my tongue,” his voice had dropped to a dangerously low tone. he went back to tongue fucking you and your grip on his headboard became so tight you thought you might break it. 
“gyu! fuck! i’m- fuck!” a wave of pure euphoria flooded your whole body faster than you could comprehend. mingyu lapped up every last bit of cum dripping from your cunt.
“jesus christ,” you panted.
“okay y/n, all fours.”
“what?” you looked down at mingyu’s big brown eyes in complete shock.
“i- i’m sorry please can i fuck you on all fours?”
“mingyu i’m not worried about how you wanna fuck me-”
“then, please? can i? I’ve been a good boy…”
“you definitely have,” you reassured, moving a piece of his hair out of his face. “i just don’t know if i have the energy for that right now.”
“you don’t have to do anything, just- y/n just let me take care of you…” his voice was so soft and genuine. nothing like you were used to from a hookup.
“fine… then can i just lay on my back?” you both chuckled.
“whatever you want.”
once you guys repositioned yourselves, mingyu on top of you for the first time tonight, you couldn’t help but let your mind race. i could get used to this view… y/n stop it’s just a fucking hookup, you’ll only ever see him again in passing. but his voice… the way he’s speaking to me is so… sweet… so? he’s probably just fucking pussy whipped. and pussy whipped he was, but it wasn’t that simple.
“are you ready, baby?” his eyes scanning yours intently as if to catch any trace of uncertainty that may reside in your eyes.
“y-yes. at least i hope,” you giggled. a fangy smile gracing his face. fuck, his smile.
as mingyu started to push himself into you, you winced at the stretch. it was almost like he’d gotten bigger since you were on top of him earlier. “ah~ fuck gyu,” you whined.
“too much? do you want me to stop?”
“no, no please don’t stop,” you just gripped onto his arms and closed your eyes.
a couple seconds later and he finally bottomed out, causing both of you to let out a string of low moans as you both adjusted to the feeling of his rather fucking huge dick inside of you. (how else was i supposed to word that like c’mon now)
within a minute mingyu was drilling into you at an animalistic pace. the grip you had on his biceps probably close to breaking skin with your nails. your back arched at its limit. both of you sounding like you're in one of the most hardcore pornos ever filmed. the bed creaking, slamming into the wall… you get it.
the rest of the world had completely withered away at this point when suddenly… 
BANG BANG BANG! “jesus christ, mingyu! that you in there?” seungcheol… fuck.
mingyu stilled all movement, “uhhh yeah… what do you want?” he dropped his head onto the pillow right next to your head. you couldn’t help but giggle.
“Sorry.. just uh… have you seen y/n?!” he yelled from the other side of the door. mingyu’s head shot up, both of you looking at each other with complete panic in your eyes.
“you could… you could say that i’ve seen her… yeah?” mingyu yelled back, wincing as he awaited his response.
when seuncheol didn’t answer right away, you decided to speak up. “hi cheol…” you said softly but loud enough for him to hear you.
“you’re fucking kidding,” seungcheol scoffed before walking away yelling, “you two fuckbirds have fun!”
you and mingyu just laid there for a second before bursting out laughing.
“okay that was embarrassing,” you covered your face.
“oh don’t act like you didn’t like it,” he grinned, leaning down to start kissing on your neck. “you think i can’t feel how much wetter you got?” he bucked his hips into you without warning, making you yelp. he just chuckled, lifting his head up to look at you again.
your mouth was hung open like an idiot, unsure of how to respond, actually embarrassed now.
“look who’s the tough guy now, huh?” he taunted, beginning to slowly pump in and out of you again. your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached for his hair. sensing that the puppy fun would be ending now, you tried to focus your vision enough to unclip the ears from his hair and throw them elsewhere in his room. “oh, are we done with those now?” he asked in such a bitchy tone, you could’ve slapped him back into his submissive state, but you were over the playing now.
“mingyu, just fuck me,” you panted now able to put your hands in his hair how you please.
“that’s no way to get what you want now, gorgeous.”
“mingyu, please just fuck me already!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his torso. 
the groan that escaped his lips at that action was inhuman as he sped back up to his pace from before, however, far harder. 
“fuck! Mingyu!” you cried out, unable to do or say anything else.
“what? wanted me to f-fuck you, no?” he teased, stopping to lift one of your legs over his shoulder, then removing your mask in one quick motion before pounding into you again. the new angle pushed you to your limit once again, far too fast for your own sanity. “let go for me again baby, i can feel it. you’re c-close aren’t you?” he cooed softly in contrast to his brutal movements. “touch yourself for me,” he breathed. 
you moved a hand down to your clit, rubbing away at the bud while your other arm moved to his back, pulling his body closer to yours as you reached your high. the close proximity bringing his clingy self closer to his own breaking point. 
now forehead to forehead, the knot in your stomach about to snap, you moved your other hand up to his back, fingertips lightly pressing into the skin. mingyu brought a hand to your neck, holding it gently, but firm as he railed into you for the last few times. 
“-m cumming!” you cried, now digging your nails into his back. 
“fuck!” he growled at the lovely sting of the scratches you were leaving. your cunt fluttering around his cock however was the final straw. “ah~ baby~” he groaned before crashing his lips into yours as his orgasm hit. 
“so… you always have wipes conveniently available on your nightstand?” you giggled, curled up in his arms under his blankets. 
“you know, it was actually pure luck,” he started. “cheol did a grocery run today and when he brought me my bag there were a couple of our toiletries and i was gonna go put them in the bathroom bu-”
“hey, gyu?” you looked up at him. 
“yeah?”
“shhhhh…” you smiled, placing a soft kiss to his lips before laying your head back down on his chest.
he kissed the top of your head and whispered with a chuckle, “sorry. i talk too much.”
“uh uh just… sleepy,” you yawned. 
how you two managed to tune out the party is beyond anyone’s guess. he didn’t have to run his fingers in your hair for a full minute before you knocked out, but he did anyway until he fell asleep himself. 
tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @iluvhoshi @goblynnrockz @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @actuallynarii @glttrlix @ninigyuuu @starcandybby (i hope that was everyone! i feel like my list got messed up but hopefully it's right!)
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sematarygirls · 9 months ago
Text
Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.
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part one
pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader
summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.
warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,
word count : 4.5k words !
a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.
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"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.
"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."
"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."
"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.
However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.
You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."
Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.
"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.
"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."
Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.
Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"
Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?
He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.
He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.
He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long
At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.
He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.
The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.
Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.
That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.
Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.
As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.
You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.
You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.
You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.
He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.
After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.
He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.
The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.
His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.
The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.
He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.
He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.
Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.
But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.
It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.
He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.
He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.
The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.
He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.
He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.
"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.
"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.
"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.
"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.
"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."
"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.
"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.
"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.
You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.
He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.
In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.
When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.
"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.
"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"
"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.
His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.
The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.
"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.
"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.
"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.
"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.
Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.
"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.
He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.
The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.
He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.
"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.
"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.
your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.
"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.
He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.
His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.
"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."
He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.
"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."
Yeah, right he thought.
He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.
Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.
He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.
"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"
You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!
"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.
"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.
Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.
"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."
"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.
"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."
His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.
"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."
"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.
"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."
He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.
"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."
He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.
"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.
He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.
"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."
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tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months ago
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Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)
Tony Randall (Lover Come Back, Pillow Talk)—he's SO TIRED he's three-wheeling ALL THE TIME on rock and doris's shenanigans and he is always SMALL. PATHETIC. INHERENTLY FILLED WITH ENNUI. i feel like all these 60s comedies are very Straight Laced and Heterosexual and yet somehow tony randall is always there having the worst day ever.
This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.
[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]
Peter Lorre
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he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged
The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.
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The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.
I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.
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Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!
I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.
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Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly
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To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.
Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated
Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).
[editor's note on below link: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide.]
The poster boy for Scrungly. Everyone who wants to draw a scrungly guy draws Peter Lorre. Gomez Addams of The Addams Family was based on him
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Tony Randall
"you had everything going for you! poverty!! squalor!!!!" "girls again!!! what's this obSESSion you have with giRLS???"
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