#patrick hockstetter x male reader

[nicohockstetter]

Bro please, I can't be the only one who sees this image and thinks they are doing something obscene 😭

[slytherinroyalty16]

I...I think I have a type

[i-smell-sass]

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!

[jasonthetoymakesmybbg]

Sweetness is a Tasteful thing. (1/??)

Yep, back immediately cause this man is legit invading my mindset and I can not-like he’s actually so fine 😍🙏

Anyways-

Patrick Hockstetter x Female/Male Reader

I am making this cause a scenario kinda went into my head like what if Patrick and his mom met your guys family and stuck around your house for a bit, but y’all are kinda like enemies and he’s forced to be in your room so y’all get along, and like he starts talking about horny shit. Then he started touching himself while staring you dead in the eye, casually moaning your name? I might make a second thing for this adding the rest of the Bowers Gang but,Like bro-HE WONT LEAVE MY HEAD 😭 and for male like he decides to leave Fem flabbergasted and bumped into Male room, then kinda walked in and yeah?

Another day passing, a peaceful weekend, meaning not having to deal with the Bowers Gang…is what I thought but this day became stressful for me.

I was peacefully in my room drawing who knows what, mostly just random doodles of cats or silly goofy things cause why not? I heard a knock on my door and I look up, seeing my mom.

“Sweetie? We’re having guest, get a shirt on.” My mom said quickly, closing my door again, oh yeah forget to mention I was chilling in a pair of shorts and bra cause I was comfy, but who could be visiting?

I sigh and get up, getting a long sleeve shirt on, I grumble as I left my room to see who is was, and who do I see?

Hockstetter and his mom standing inside our living. In my home? Fuck this-before I could slip away back to my safe space my dad spoke up.

“And there’s one of my kids” He said that on purpose? Fuck you dad.

Hockstetter turned and saw me, smirking a bit, damn it why is he so submissive and breedable looking but is a sadistic asshole that’s a tad aggressive?-

(All Y/n as siblings cause yeah)

“Hi…I’m [Fem]Y/n” I grumble a little, feeling all my stress appearing again and I barely left school.

His mom simply waved, greeting me and probably clueless of what her son was planning, meanwhile I felt like killing myself.

My brother walked in [Male] Y/n and he looked in disbelief seeing Patrick, he glanced at me and I shrugged.

“Ah, there’s my son” my dad spoke up, damn it.

“Why don’t you hang out with them?” My mom said looking at Patrick, he shrugged and walked over to me, meanwhile my brother left already, really said ‘ladies first’ we walked to my room, dread touched my heart.

Opening to my glorious room filled with randomly shit that related to my interests or gore art on the wall I pinned up. I sat on my bed, Patrick closed my door, damn it. He smirked lightly sitting in my spinning chair.

“You seem so tense..why is that?” He lightly mocked, I glared.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I grumble to myself again, glaring in hatred.

“Maybe..I might’ve said something about you to my mom to convince her to come over” he grinned.

“…bitch” I said lowly, he smirked at my hostile attitude, but he’s low key hot-stay focused.

“You know…I bet you would look so good bouncing on my dick.” I choke on my spit, not expecting that-well it was expected but it was so random.

“Huh?-“

“You heard me.” He stared, his eyes were burning into my soul and all I felt was lust waving over him.

“..image me fucking your thighs, then finishing on your stomach, or me fucking you senseless with a knife to your neck..image all the things I could do to you.” He had said so casually, i wasn’t used to a guy telling me his fantasies.

“Sometimes…I wanna fuck you from behind while you suck off Henry” he had continued.

Wow-wait? Henry? Damn, I knew it-he was most definitely bi. Probably gets off to fucking or pleasing girls while watching a guy.

“Or…suck Henry while you ride me I don’t complain” I cock a eyebrow at his words.

“…so…your just spilling your bisexual fantasies?-“ he simply nodded, I notice his hands started caressing near his bulge, but now I finally notice his bulge was erect.

“Look at that..all hard, and just the thought of you makes me all hot and bothered..even though sometimes I just wanna slit your throat.” He let out a low growl, he lightly started to rub his bulge, I gulped knowing I wanted out.

He moaned softly, “Y/n~..got me all excited~”..so how do I feel watching this go down?..mixed feelings. My heart jumped when I notice him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Letting his length come free he gripped it a tad tight while stroking.

“Fuck.~..I wanna feel you so badly. Ngh~” I was not gonna make eye contact with his cock, but he made me nervous looking him in the eye, good thing the walls are thick.

He was just touching himself while looking at me, he bit his lip.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Can’t handle seeing me want release Y/n?~ o-ah~” He closed his eyes for a second feeling the moment, it was a surprise he was so peaceful while masturbating.

He stopped suddenly, simply fixing his pants he got up and left my room, I was just-wow

“Huh?-“ was all I could say, I was speechless.

————-/////—————/////—————/////————

[Male] pov

I was chilling in my room, laying on my bed with music blasting through my headphones, eyes closed. But I wasn’t aware of the devil literally finding me and coming into my room, not even noticing he closed my door.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my chest, my eyes open immediately and I sit up. Patrick..what the fuck?-

“What does your bitch ass want?” I ask, taking my headphones off.

“Hm-“

“Actually don’t answer that.” I quickly said.

Before I could move much his hand gripped my thigh to prevent me from leaving. My cock twitched in confusion, but I didn’t wanna react to much.

“.you aren’t gonna leave.” He said lowly, before smirking again, he leaned in to the crook of my neck and started laying kisses down. My breathe lightly hitched at the feeling.

“Huh?-“ I was confused why he was showing a form of affection when he isn’t affectionate at all. I felt him lightly rest his hand on my thigh again, his thumb lazily rubbing against my bulge to get me excited. And yet it did, my cock started to harden at the sensation, I felt his smirk grow bigger in my neck.

He let out a chuckle, “fucking knew it”

“Knew what?-“ I cock a eyebrow,

“You would enjoy me touching your dick…slut” and there it was, the word I hated being called But liked it so much.

“What you call me?-say it again…i-like..hearing you call me that” I had shared, Patrick laughed at my words.

“Aw..the slut wants to be humiliated huh? Would you allow me to call you it in school?.~”

I nodded, “yes-if it means to hear you say it..” my body was begging to be stripped and fucked, he knew it to.

“Fucking prepare cause when the rest of the gang get here-“

“…what?” I side glance, my eyes went wide.

“Yeah..they’re planning to tag along here..mostly to play with you and your siblings.” He casually said, laying on his side comfortably.

“Let it sink in slut” the way the word slid off his tongue made me excited.

“Jesus fucking Christ” I rubbed my eyes.

“..your so-hot?” I randomly say, Patrick was amused by the way I was acting.

“I can tell I am in your eyes…also to let you know I randomly masturbate in front of your sister” that made my jaw dropped.

“The fuck?-“ I tried processing what he said.

“How did she react?-“ I ask

“Flabbergasted and confused” he shrugged his shoulders

“Sounds accurate enough”

(And here we are, one part done.)

[henrys-mullet]

Hey, gorgeous women and FAGGOTS.

Your king's here.

Barbie Victor told me to enter to this fucking shit, so.. im looking for my gang.

[mrmaybank]

FEM ALLEGED DNI

Fandom: IT

Title: Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this

Character(s): the whole Bowers gang + Butch

Request: No

Genre: Angst + a tiny bit of fluff

TW: Butch Bowers :)

A/N: i’m in love with idea so get ready for more fics with the reader being Henry’s younger brother, this has a modern AU to it and reader is the same age as the losers.

Masterlist

Belch stopped in front of the bowers house then turned to the back seat where (M/N), Henry’s little brother, was seating with Patrick and Vic. (M/N) grabbed his backpack and opened the door getting out, “Tell Hen we hope he feels better,” Vic told him.

“Well do!” (M/N) Responded. (H/C) boy walked up the short driveway to his front door pulling out his key and waving to Belch, Patrick, and Vic drove off in the blue Trans-Am. The (E/C) boy used his key to unlock door, and was immediately met with screaming.

His older brother was wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers and a black t-shirt, with a blanket looked about seconds away from falling off his shoulders. What was most notable was that his brother didn’t have his usually poker face on, he was showing how he really feel. Which seemed to be tired and feed up.

Henry looked like he was about to say something when he made eye contact with you and his whole demeanor changed. He motioned the stairs with his head then mouthed ‘go’ at (M/N). But Butch seemed to catch on because he turned a looked to see (M/N) who stood there frozen.

Before he could do anything he was yanked over to the ground by his father. “Dad, don’t,” Henry spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah? And why shouldn’t I?” Butch asked.

“Because this is between me and you,” Henry used his hand to gestures him and butch, “you don’t need to involve him,” Henry told his father.

“Well I want to,” Butch sneered before delivering a swift kick to his youngest’s son stomach.

“Dad!” Henry screamed. Another kick was delivered to (M/N) stomach and another as Henry just to stop his father. Henry grabbed his dad’s shoulder trying to pull him away from his little brother. “Dad, stop please!” Henry exclaimed.

Butch turned to face his oldest son, “This what you get for not following orders,” He hissed before delivering yet another kick to (M/N).

Who was now sobbing on the floor, “stop, please,” the eleven year old cried.

“Dad please,” Henry begged. After what felt eternity of Henry trying to pull his father away from his brother, who was delivering after kick to the poor boy he stopped.

Henry quickly moved next to his little brother and looked from him to Butch. Who just sneered at the two of them, “Maybe next time you’ll be more obedient,” he hissed, “now go to your rooms, I don’t wanna see your faces anymore,” Henry watch as his father walked off.

Then quickly down at his little brother, “Were gonna upstairs, your gonna go to your room and pack a pair of pajamas and change of clothes. Then come straight to my room okay?”

(M/N) nodded, Henry helped him upstairs and into his room where he grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a black t-shirt and pajamas pants in there. Along with a Nirvana hoodie and a pair of jeans. He made he slowly made his way to his brother’s room trying to push down the pain in his stomach.

He opened the door and found his brother sitting on the bed with backpack next to him. He was now wearing sweat pants and different t-shirt. Henry turned smiled at his little brother motioning for him to join him on the bed. (M/N) did just that placing his bag in his lap, “Vic’s gonna he here two minutes,” Henry told (M/N).

“Okay,” (M/N) replied. Henry wrapped an around his little brother’s shoulder, they sat there in silence until Henry’s phone went off signaling Vic was here.

They quickly made there way out of the house using the window and entered Vic’s car. Henry in the front while (M/N) sat in the back. No body talked for the first two of minutes of the car drive. “Do you two wanna…,” Vic trailed off.

“No,” both of them said in unison.

“Okay,” Vic replied. He reached over and placed a hand on Henry’s thigh and if (M/N) saw this he certainly didn’t say anything about it. After ten minutes later they pulled into Vic’s driveway, “my parents are gone for the next two weeks,” he informed them.

He lead them inside and into the living room. Where the brothers sat down on the couch, Vic sighed and kneeled down in front of them. “Okay, I know the both of you aren’t ones for emotional shit and opening up. But I am so i’m gonna tell you this now, I don’t know what he did or what said. But I can assure you don’t deserve that at all. Butch Bowers is a fucking idiot if he can’t see how special his two sons are,” Vic told them.

None of them said anything after that, Vic turned on the TV and sat down next to Henry. Who wrapped an around both of his boys pulling them in. (M/N) buried his face in his brother’s side who started rubbing his hand up and down his back. “He can’t hurt you right now,” Henry told him, “And I won’t ever let him hurt you again,” Henry promised.

[sematarygirls]

Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

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.

"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."

tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,

[fuckshitslover]

val's masterlist and rules :)

MY MASTERLIST

FUCKSHIT   -    mid90s

EMMETT CULLEN    -    TWILIGHT SAGA

Coming soon!...

PATRICK HOCKSTETTER     -    IT 2017

Coming soon!...

VANCE HOPPER - THE BLACK PHONE

Coming soon!...

CARL GALLAGHER - SHAMELESS

STEVE HARRINGTON - STRANGER THINGS

Coming soon!...

GALLAVICH DAUGHTER - SHAMELESS

Coming soon!...

GEORGIE COOPER - YOUNG SHELDON

Coming soon!...

RODRICK HEFFLEY - DIARY OF A WIMPY KID

Coming soon!...

OTHER CHARACTERS

None yet!...

RULES

I will do NSFW, though i’m not sure i’m very good at it. I will write for any character on this list, and if you happen to request one that i know, ill see if i can write for them! I don't write male!readers, and i will default to fem!reader unless said to be gender neutral. I will update my masterlist when i make a new work, and FEEL FREE TO REQUEST! I do go to school, so ill probably be a bit short on time but ill try my best to do anything i;m interested it whenever i can! I am an ADD bisexual female, so i will say the f slur if necessary, and i will try to refrain from, but if there is a line that says the r slur, i might refer to it. None of my work is meant to offend anyone, it is purely for fun. Ill try my best to respond to constructive criticism, but if you're rude, you'll get blocked 🙂

[girlystories]

*ೃ::RULES/GUIDELINES

Rules 📜

1. 🚫Off-limits: Smut, incest, anything sexual, any kinks or anything of the sort, character x character. 

2. Platonic, friendly, family, romantic and all other types of relationships.

3. I do scenarios, one-shots, and headcanons. When requesting it'd be important if you note what exactly you're requesting. 

5. I do all genders; female, male, gn. Just note which one you'd like, or otherwise I'll do it for gn.

6. Last thing, GIVE ME IDEAS. I would really appreciate it if you'd request what exactly you'd want my work to contain, instead of just stating a character (exp. character x reader)

List of fandoms

IT(2017)

Bower's gang: henry bowers, vic criss, patrick hockstetter, belch huggings, (all).

NINJAGO

The ninja: kai, nya, cole, jay, zane, lloyd.

Villains: morro, lord garmadon

Other: pixal, skyler. (for now)

DANGANRONPA

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc: makoto naegi, kyoko kirigiri, byakuya togami, toko fukawa/genocide jill, aoi asahina, yasuhiro hagakure, sayaka maizono, leon kuwata, chihiro fujisaki, mondo owada, kiyotaka ishimaru, celestia ludenberg, sakura ogami, junko enoshima, mukuro ikusaba.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Dispair: hajime hinata/izuru kamakura, chiaki nanami, nagito komaeda, fuyuhiko kuzuryu, akane owari, sonia nevermind, kazuichi soda, mahiru koizumi, peko pekoyama, ibuki mioda, hiyoko saionji, mikan tsumiki, nekomaru nidai, gundham tanaka.

Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony: shuichi saihara, kaede akamatsu, k1-b0(kiibo), maki harukawa, himiko yumeno, rantaro amami, ryoma hoshi, kirumi tojo, tenko chabashira, korekiyo shinguji, miu iruma, gonta gokuhara, kokichi ouma, kaito momota, tsumugi shirogane.

Other: komaru naegi, yuta asahina, natsumi kuzuryu, sato, kyosuke munakata, chisa yukizome, ryota mitarai, seiko kimura, sonosuke izayoi, koichi kizakura, ruruka ando, juzo sakakura.

NARUTO/SHIPPUDEN

Under 18: uzumaki naruto, haruno sakura, uchiha sasuke, nara shikamaru, ino yamanaka, choji akimichi, kiba inuzuka, shino aburame, hinata hyuga, neji hyuga, rock lee, tenten, gaara, kankuro, temari.

Over 18: kakashi hatake, (more).

Akatsuki: deidara, hidan, itachi uchiha, kazuku, konan, nagato, sasori, tobi/obito uchiha.

Other: shuigetsu hozuki, karin, jugo.

VOLTAIRE HIGH/MIXTE(1963)

joseph descamps, jean-pierre magnan, alain laubrac, henri pichon, +more (just request)

©girlystories ©girlystoriess

[nightfang22]

Masterlists of All My Work

Updated 08/02/2024

Requests are OPEN!

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor (NO SMUT)

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Angel Dust

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Lucifer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Daddy,I'm A Zombie:

Gonner

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

One of Us Is Lying:

Simon Kelleher

Blurbs

Smut

-Kinktober Day 1:"Let me see those eyes."

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Wayne:

Wayne McCullough

Blurbs

Smut

-Virgin Lovers

Imagines

Series

Misc.

IT:

Patrick Hockstetter

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

-Patrick's Princess Part One

-Patrick's Princess Part Two

-Patrick's Princess Part Three

Misc.

John Doe+:

John Doe

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Homestuck:

Dave Strider

Blurbs

-DJ Dave

-Dave x Male!Reader HCs

Smut

Imagines

-Simple Paradise

Series

Misc.

Sollux Captor

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Mituna Captor

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Karkat Vantas

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kankri Vantas

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Stranger Things:

Eddie Munson

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Gareth Emerson

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Honor Society:

Michael Dipnicky

Blurbs

-Blurb One

-Blurb Two

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Creepypasta:

Jeff The Killer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Ben Drowned

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eyeless Jack

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Ticci Toby

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Adventure Time:

Marshall Lee

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

The Good Doctor:

Shaun Murphy

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Heathers:

Jason Dean

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Your Boyfriend:

Peter

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eddsworld:

Tord

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter One

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Two

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Three

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Four

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Five

Misc.

Tom

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

SallyFace:

Sal

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Larry

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

South Park:

Kenny McCormick

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

-Get Angry

We Need To Talk About Kevin:

Kevin Khatchadourian

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

American Horror Story:

Tate Langdon

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kit Walker

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kyle Spencer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Jimmy Darling

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kai Anderson

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

My Hero Academia:

Katsuki Bakugo

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

-Revenge Porn

Series

Misc.

Izuku Midoriya

Blurbs

-Tattoo Artist Izuku

Smut

Imagines

-Bite Of Fate

-Sweat and Lace

Series

Misc.

Shoto Todoroki

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eijiro Kirishima

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Denki Kaminari

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Hanta Sero

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Dabi

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Shouta Aizawa

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

-Can't Erase Heartbreak

-Can't Erase Heartbreak Part 2

Series

Misc.

[bowers-gang-bxtch]

PATRICK HOCKSTETTER X GN READER HEADCANONS!!

Warnings; Patrick

Genre; Fluff

————————————————————

-Once you two start dating he still kind of treats you like a friend in public

-He’ll warm up to you soon though

-Once he does it’s groping in public and make out sessions in private 😏

-He’ll never tell you this but, he likes to cuddle and listen to music with you!

-He likes to take you on walks around the forest

-He’s not good at showing affection but he’ll try!

-He’ll steal stuff for you or take you on little drives at night

-He’s pretty protective over you, especially when he starts figuring out you’re a real person

-DRAW ON HIM.

-He’ll show off your little drawings. He likes when you draw bones, roses and little stickmen!

-He’ll try to draw on you but if you’re an artist, he’s not as good as you

-After he’s really sure you won’t tell anyone, he’ll show you his fridge

-If you’re Trans with bad parents he’ll let you stay over at his house as long as you want, he’ll even give you his old clothes

-He likes scaring you, we wouldn’t do anything to hurt you but he likes seeing the fear in your eyes

-Movie Nights every Saturday.

-You pick every other Saturday

-Whenever you pick, he takes mental notes so he knows which movie is your favourite

-He likes staying up late with you

-He’s always glued to you

-If your family likes him, expect him at every family dinner/vacation

-He’s surprisingly really supportive!

-Keep him away from your animals pls

[shylemon0]

Waking up next to Patrick Hockstetter would include

Okay so this is probably going to be the most spicy thing I’ll write, i couldn’t stop blushing while writing it  lol

Guess I have two different types of headcanon writing styles, 1 being just random headcanons that fit what I’m writing about and 2 being “story” version where i just make the headcanons kind of like a fanfic, but I also sometimes do I mix of both.

P=Patrick speaking, Y= you speaking

Warning: swearing, fluff, Patrick being Patrick (but a little softer), bad writing 

(Male Reader)

———

· You’d wake up with his face in the crook of your neck still asleep  · His arms are around you so you can’t move 

· Y “Patrick, Patrick wake the fuck up”  · when he finally wakes up he just smirks into your neck and starting to kiss it 

· You’ll blush a lot

· of course he’ll tease you for your reaction which will only make you blush more  · Y “Fuck off! I’m leaving”

· he’d pin you down to the bed by your arms and look over your expression with a smirk and just laugh as he kisses you · P “You aren’t leaving now handsome”

· He’ll try to hold you there for as long as possible · Eventually you push him off and then pin him down to the floor  · You’ll joke around with him while trying to get out of his room to go back home but he ends up just putting you back in his bed to cuddle again 

· You eventually just accept your fate and decide to ask him if he could at least put on some movie, he ended up picking an horror movie so that you’d cling to him more for comfort  · Y “You dick! You know I can’t watch scary stuff!”

· P “Aww but you’re so cute when you’re scared”

· You end up just turning away from the movie and putting your head against Patrick’s chest

· Patrick then scoops your face into his hands so that he can look at your face · You just quickly peck his nose and put your head in the crook of his neck

· soon you start to feel tired again and lay your head on his chest listening to his heart beating · You ended up just falling asleep again while Patrick holds you close to his chest

:)

[stan-joonies]

Medication

I am so so so proud of this piece of work!

You can't even remember how this stupid fight started. All you remember is coming home and going up to your room and being shocked to find that Patrick had snuck into your bedroom and dug his knife into your beautiful curtains and ripped them to shreds in anger.

Unfortunately this is something you were used to. It happened more times than you could count.

You knew Patrick was bad.

Actually, he was worse than bad. He was evil, Psychotic, devilish, inhumane, selfish, sadistic and a maniac.

But you stayed.

[[MORE]]

Partly because you knew him when you were babies. Your parents were close friends and that prompted you to become close.

You loved him dearly, but you were always fearing your safety.

Since you got together, and you use that term very loosely, you lost all your friends. He isolated you from everyone. When something was Patrick's nobody could ever have it, even when he was done with it. You knew that now, after accidentally putting a boy in hospital after Patrick saw you helping him with his homework.

The isolation killed you inside. In your early teen years you always told everyone that you just wanted to be left alone, prayed to get just a few hours of 'you time'.

However, hours turned to days that turned to weeks that turned to months and would soon turn to a year.

A full year of complete isolation.

God, it killed you inside.

And now he was shouting, cursing, threatening. The knife he used to beat your curtains was still in his hand and he was thrashing it through the air dangerously.

You could feel yourself shaking and crying in absolute fear. He looked ready to murder you and you didn't even know why.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

The unimaginable.

The unforgivable.

His hand came down on you, thankfully the one free of the knife, and slapped you against your cheek.

The impact made you fly into the wall you were backed up into and tumble to the floor.

The air had stilled as you stared at the carpet, your eyes wide open in disbelief.

The tears came down quicker and stronger now, the echoing sting in your cheek prompting them.

You tried to lift yourself up but you immediately came crashing down to the floor.

You looked up, astonished to see that he seemed to keep on having a go at you, ignoring his previous actions in favour of getting in your face. You were thankful that all you could hear was a shrill ringing.

Then, your door was kicked down and the large silhouette of your brother bounded in and tackled Patrick to the ground in a flurry of punches.

Patrick was threatening, his threats were real and he had a dark sense of humour. But he was not the strongest. He was strong, but many people in the school could take him on physically.

So your brother easily knocked him out.

Then, once he was sure he wouldn't be waking up for awhile, he checked on you. His eyes held a passionate fire and he mumbled something you couldn't hear.

-

You would never have thought you'd be here...court.

Patrick was awaiting the virdict, and you sat back on the opposite side of the room with not only your parents but his aswell.

There were shocking revelations on both sides that seemed to shake Derry to it's core.

A sick part of you wanted to go to his side, defend him and help him. Forgive that action and go on with your lives.

But you were worth more than that...so much more.

So when the jury came out and told the judge their virdict and the judge took his seat , you straightened your back and readied yourself.

-

You couldn't help but shake in your shoes.

Conflicting emotions shoved at eachother in your stomach.

He was being locked away...but not in prison. He had confessed about his fridge, his brother, his...insanity.

So he was being sent away for medical help for a couple years.

People assured you that he'd get his punishment, but with his medical history there wasn't much they could do.

You felt...nothing.

You were...glad? Glad he was getting help?

You were...angry? Angry that you did not get the justice you felt you deserved?

Those conflicting emotions seemed to level you out.

But now you just felt empty.

-

Four years.

Four years you hadn't seen him and then here you are.

In a shopping mall of all places.

He changed, his hair was now cropped and he had a little shadow on his top lip. He was bulkier, and that chilled you slightly. He wore a button up shirt and dark blue jeans.

You just stared at eachother in disbelief.

"Patrick?" You questioned, taking your hands off the item you reached for.

"Y/N..." he sighed.

Silence over took them again.

"Babe?"

You turned, smiling shakily at the man who called you.

"Just a minute!" You turned back, watching Patrick tense up while looking at your boyfriend's retreating back. You immediately became self aware. Images of him following you to your car or chasing after your boyfriend and pumelling his face in.

He let out a deep breath before smiling shakily.

"Y'know i actually planned to reach out and ask you out for some coffee...not as a date but a catch up and...to apologise." He looked at you, his eyes shaking. "You see, back when...that happened i didn't apologise and i just laughed. I recently kept thinking about it and was going to ask my psychiatrist if it was sensible to do. Then i realised that the day i kept thinking about it was the day i was sentenced. It was crazy really. But i decided i had to apologise face to face. And if you didn't feel comfortable then i would do it under supervision with something between us. But here you are and it kind of ruins it." He laughed tightly.

You stared in astonishment. This man...he looked so much like him but acted so different. Then you laughed in your head...of course he acted different. He spent four years in a ward. That changes people.

"How are you?" You asked quietly, hiding the hand behind your back to mask the shaking.

"I-i'm good. I've got a long way to go and I'm on medication for life. But i feel better. Freer. I'm still on a tight leash, relapses can happen and i can falter slightly but I'm...Im good, you?"

"I-i'm ok,"

"I..uh...i actually heard that Henry was sent to prison wasn't he?"

"He actually went into an insane asylum. He killed his dad Butch and the missing kids."

Patrick hummed almost dismissively and mumbled under his breath.

"Anyway," you smiled shakily. "I need to get back to my car,"

"Oh! Yeah, of course! It was great to see you again..."

You smiled and began walking away.

You felt slightly melancholy. This felt like closing a chapter of a book that you'd eventually loose and never find again.

This felt like a goodbye, an ending.

One of those ending that is the best outcome for all characters involved but not quite satisfying for the reader.

But you weren't the author of this particular book ...

[i-smell-sass]

Hiiii. Could you write a Patrick hockstetter x male reader fanfic where on the readers birthday he goes to visit his dead parents and patrick goes with them and comforts the reader. Then patrick takes the reader to a surprise party thrown by him and the rest of the bowers gang. Thank you :)

of course!

[reggieservices]

Hi! Could you do hdc of the boys dating a very tall mlae!reader

yesss gladly!

Bowers Gang x Tall!M!Reader

Henry Bowers

~ Okay so we already know Henry is around 6 ft ( idc if its accurate thats how I see him)

~ So having a tall boyfriend isnt that bad to him

~ If you guys are in the same range, he thinks its cool because you both could loom over people around school, intimidating the hell out of everyone

~ you can count on him stealing your clothes, no doubt about it

~ If you have a leather jacket, its not yours anymore, your entire closet it shared now 

~ I said in a previous post how energetic he is, so expect him to jump on your back at all times and just repeatedly ask for piggyback rides

~ loves cuddling you so much, he tries being the big spoon everytime but secretly wants to be the little spoon

Patrick Hockstetter

~ Wasnt the biggest fan of it at first

~ He liked the power of intimidating people with height

~ that was,

~ Before he realized what a damn Power Couple y’all would be

~ He starts setting out matching outfits for y’all

~ Expect him to “accidentally” leave his clothes at your house for you to wear to school

~ This man LOVES when you steal his clothes

~ Gives him that sense of loving ownership

~ You and him will make poke fun at Vic because y’all are just so damn tall and are asserting dominance/lh

Victor Criss

~ He loves how tall you are

~ Begs for piggy back rides everyday

~ Makes you do facemasks with him 

~ In my mind, Vic is a dancer

~ Salsa, ballroom, hiphop. You name it, he’s tried it.

~ So you best BELIEVE my boy is going to ask you to dance with him

~ If you’re inexperienced, he’ll teach you but if you do know?? Lawwdd y’all are gonna have the time of your LIVES.

~ Is so sweet with you and completely adores you

~ Will put cute sticky notes on your locker abt how he loves you

~ draws on you 24/7

~ Bakes you a cake for every birthday and decorates it according to your fav hobbies <3

Reggie Huggins

~ As a fellow Tall king himself, He enjoys having someone to cuddle and not be scared of squashing beneath him

~ Will become verryyyy blushy if you hug him from behind

~ Will makes awkward jokes when he first starts dating you to try easing his anxiety

~ Is so cringe, but in a good way

~ Is the best boyfriend in the world

~Wont hear any shit from anyone abt y'alls relationship

~Usually is pretty calm and chill, but gets pissed at homophobic comments made towards y'all

~ Your absolute biggest fan, always fawning over you and is behind you no matter what

Tries buying you gifts all the time, but freaks out over thinking if you would like it or not so he just covers you with physical attention if you're into that.

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

HI i havent posted is forever BUT will be getting back into the groove soon feeling pretty good rn okay have an amazing day love you BYE <3

~Reggieservices

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Henry Bowers (5/5)

(@bywie)

Word count ; 3.9k

*Edited.

Bev tugged on my arm, pulling me away from the main commotion. I was entranced with her cute smile and her new hair style. I loved her.

“What did I tell you?” she giggled.

“Yeah, I know, you’re usually right,” I agreed easily. “It’s nice to wash away my worries, too. I heard some pretty terrible news this morning, so it’s nice to have a distraction.”

Bev tilted her head. “Bad news?”

“You haven’t heard? Just like that other kid, Greta’s gone missing. I know she was a bully and everything, but I can’t help feeling like —“

“It wasn’t Henry,” she instantly reassured, her hands ghosting over my shoulder. “Kids are disappearing a lot these days… He was just heartbroken. I’m sure as we speak, he’s getting over you. You don’t need to think about him anymore.”

“It’s hard not to… He really scared me.”

Bev cupped my cheeks, successfully silencing me. “Now, now, no more negativity. We’re having girl time. Plus the boys, I guess, but you see what they’re up to…”

As she drew my attention to the rest of the group, I smiled. All of the boys were eagerly wrestling each other, their laughs echoing across the lake as they were fully enveloped in their water wrestling. Our hands held tighter as we gazed at them. I couldn’t help but feel this was the perfect way to mark the transition into college life.

“Hey! You losers can’t beat me to the river,” Richie suddenly declared. It was generally aimed towards the boys, but Bev and I shared mischievous smiles and started swimming down the river. The boys shouted after us, trying desperately to catch up.

We swam quickly and gracefully - or, at least, Bev did - and we swam far enough to where the water became shallow. We were both dripping wet as we stood up. The water was at knee-length and had weighed us down when we tried to stand.

Bev and I laughed as the boys tried desperately to catch up. Eventually, of course, they did, but I noticed that somehow Ben came into second place despite previously being farthest away, followed by Eddie, Bill, Stan, and Richie in last.

“We kicked your asses,” I declared haughtily, pointing at the group.

Richie was quick to defend his pride with,” No way! You guys were way more ahead.”

“We were also the first to jump,” Bev added, stifling her giggles.

“W - well, we would’ve if you told us to,” Bill agreed, huffing in embarrassment.

Ben had a deep blush as he watched Bev, and I couldn’t help but tense. Ben was a lovely boy, so I would support Beverly is she ended up falling for him. But I knew I’d be jealous. I’d hate to see it happen. Not to mention, Bill obviously had a crush on her, too. She already had enough of a love triangle to deal with without me in the picture.

Before we could argue further, a boy suddenly came stumbling through the woods. I’d seen him at school before. He was bloody and dirty. Everyone went to the shore, utterly astounded by the boy’s appearance.

“Isn’t that Mike?” Bill asked in confusion.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” Beverly called to him.

The boy tripped on some rocks, splattering to the ground. He was too concerned about escaping… something to reply. Our questions were swiftly answered as the Bowers gang emerged from the woods. Belch was swift to grab the boys collar, pulling him to his feet, with Patrick helping him.

Henry immediately glued his gaze to me. The other three sufficiently began tormenting the poor boy, but Henry just stared.

Suddenly, Beverly stooped over and grabbed a rock. And threw it, right into Belch’s forehead.

Mike took the chance to scramble across the river. I helped him up, pulling him into a comforting hug before pushing him to the back of the group.

“Holy shit,” Richie gasped.

“Nice throw,” Stanley breathed.

“Thanks, but don’t act so surprised.”

There was a tense silence as the loser gang and Bowers gang stared each other down. I was too afraid to get involved, so I made sure to distance myself from the scene, backing into the shrubbery just enough.

“Rock war!” Richie suddenly declared.

And just like that, Richie gets pegged with a rock thrown by Belch. So, both groups engage in a vicious war. I managed to avoid the attention because both gangs were on good enough terms to let me leave me out of it. Rock after rock, hit after hit, the battle rages on.

However, I noticed that little by little, people from both sides filtered out, and soon it was only Henry left. I was horrified when Richie shouted ‘run!’ and delivered a final blow to Henry, sufficiently knocking the boy to the ground.

I let out a gasp as Bev suddenly tugged at my arm. The other boys had already ran away in hopes of getting their clothes and escaping. But I turned to her, pleading with my eyes. I had to help Henry… I knew things were hard for him.

So, wordlessly, Bev understood. She turned and ran after her friends, leaving me to myself and my passed out ex-boyfriend.

I waded across the stream to him desperately, worried sick for him. He had a gash on his forehead, but aside from that, he seemed very beat up. His dad… I left him alone to his dad.

I sighed, immediately tending to his wounds. Goddamn those friends of his. Leaving the poor guy to fend for himself. To be fair, he was once again bullying a random bystander, and was a violent man, but I couldn’t help but feel responsible for him.

I wiped a stray tear away. I tore off a piece of his tank top and dabbed it in the stream before returning. I dabbed his forehead, wiping away the blood, before applying the cloth permanently. Afterwards, I pulled his head into my lap and readjusted his hair. And so, I waited.

And waited.

…And waited.

It was hard to believe a few rocks knocked him out for such a long time, as the sun was beginning to set and I was getting cold, but I knew I had to.

I was starting to doze off, my head falling forward. But just then, I felt Henry stir. He turned his head and his hand made his way to his to head, clutching it tightly. He let out a hoarse groan, turning on his side. The rocky shore shifted underneath his weight.

I shushed and comforted him quietly as he regained his composure. The moment his eyes shot open, his gaze warmed.

“Are you really fuckin’ here…?” he muttered, baffled.

“Yes,” I exhaled reluctantly. “How do you feel?”

“Why did you wait for me?” he inquired, his voice breaking. “I fuckin’ hurt you and you’re still… here.”

“Let’s not talk about that. You’re hurt. Why did you make the dumb decision to pick on Mike?”

“I was fuckin’… pissed. He was an easy target. And I’d do it again, too, if it meant you’d be here.”

He abruptly sat and turned around, crawling so that he was on his knees, facing me. I sighed, , leaning back slightly. My nails dug into the grass behind me. “Listen, Henry… I meant every word I said. There’s no changing what happened. But I don’t want you destroying yourself because of it.”

I never thought I’d see him, Henry fucking Bowers, cry, but there he was, tears sliding down his cheeks. God, my arms ached to welcome him with a warm hug. But I couldn’t succumb. Henry frowned, wiping his tears away furiously.

“I can’t fuckin’ live without you,” he stated shakily. “You’re the bitch I’m meant to marry. You’re my fuckin’ everything. I know… I’m rough around the edges and I don’t have anything to my name, but I love you. So fuckin’ much. Why aren’t I enough for you, Y/n?”

His hands made their way to my thighs, grabbing the tightly. I gulped, heart beating rapidly in my chest. “I… I’m sorry, Hen. I really, really am. It’s not you. You deserve a girl who can truly fall in love and dedicate to you, and I just can’t. I love you, but it’s always been as a friend. Besides… I can’t date a guy who’s been… violent towards me.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you - you just wouldn’t let me talk! I was desperate, I’m still desperate!” he begged, and my heart wrenched within me. “Please, Y/n, you can’t leave me.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. It was getting darker. He was crying. I was crying. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pulling him to me. He cried into my shoulder, holding me equally tight.

I couldn’t help it. I cared too much about Henry. And nothing would ever happen with Bev.

“Let’s just… go on a date. Let’s try to fix things. Little by little. Is that okay?”

“Thank you. So fuckin’ much.”

Maybe it was an unhealthy move, but we couldn’t help it. With all the pent up emotional damage and overblown emotions, we healed each other that night in the woods, just enough.

~~~

I kicked my feet against my bedroom floor. Bev was lying on my bed on her side. She was terrified because of her father, so, I had her come over for dinner. It was the least I could do for the girl. Especially since she was always there for me, and she was strong enough to never previously need me.

“I just don’t understand why I deserved to end up with a shitty dad like him,” Bev sniffled, grabbing my hand and playing with my fingers.

“Nobody does. He’s the absolute worst. You deserve so, so much better.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to live. I’m just lucky I have a best friend like you.”

I almost flinched, but I should’ve known better. I was with… Henry again. The two of us were broken shells of humans that needed each other, even if I longed to be with Bev in every way. I hadn’t told Bev yet, though. I’m not sure I knew how. And it’d already been a week.

“You’re quiet,” Bev commented. She sat up and sat behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Is it Henry? You don’t need to be scared anymore.”

“Sort of. But it’s not important right now. You’re what I’m focused on.”

Bev frowned, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. Her soft hair tickled me. “That’s not true. Did something happen at the lake? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes - I mean no - it’s just complicated,” I heaved.

“Honey! Someone’s calling for you,” my mom shouted from down the hallway. I took the chance to hop up and out of my room, racing downstairs. My mom was holding the phone, wearing a sweet smile, which I mimicked.

After I took the phone, she left to go to the kitchen. I muttered into the receiver,” Hello?”

“Y/n,” Henry immediately panted. “I need you.”

“Wh - what? Hen, I’m with Bev right now —“

“No. Please come over, I need help. It’s serious,” his shaky voice insisted, almost whining. “It’s serious.”

“Fine, fine, but can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“I - I can’t. It’s about Patrick disappearing, I don’t fuckin’ know. I just need your help. Please, please, please —“

“Y - yes, Henry, calm down. Have some water. I’ll be over soon, ‘kay? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up, concern wracking my body. I rushed up to my room, not paying Bev any heed as I started grabbing my things. Bev grabbed me, forcing me to stop, clearly worried.

“What’s wrong, Y/n?”

“I - It’s Henry, he needs my help,” I gasped, struggling to make her let go of me.

“Wh - what? No way, you’re not going to visit that psychopath —“

“Yes, I am, Bev,” I boomed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I took him back. I just had to. And he needs my help —“

“Why on earth did you take him back?” Bev cried, forcing me into a hug. “Are you really that desperate? Why died’t you just try things with your crush?”

“Because it’s stupid, Bev! It’s never going to happen! Henry and I need each other. And he needs me now, so just let me go to him!”

“No! At least tell me who your crush is! Please, let’s talk about this —“

“It’s you, Bev! It’s always been you,” I admitted passionately, finally shoving her away. “I’ve been in love with you since we first met and you’ve never felt that way with me! It’s fuckin’ fine, but please, just respect my decision.”

Bev’s lips trembled and her doe eyes widened in shock. “…Me?”

“Exactly. You don’t feel the same way.”

I couldn’t cry. Not over her for the millionth time. So, instead, I turned tail and went down the stairs. And out the front door.

~~~

I tripped as I hopped off my bike. Hen’s father’s police car was parked in the front. I’d never been to Henry’s house before. Sure, the gang and I occasionally dropped him off first, but I’d never been inside. It was safe to say, though, that the house radiated negativity. It seemed so decrepit. It gave me the creeps.

I wasted no time, marching up to the front door, my purse hanging loosely off my shoulder. And then I knocked.

When my hand collided with the wood, I was surprised that the door creaked open eerily. I didn’t hear anything from inside, except for a vague static noise. I pushed it open. My heart wanted to jump out of my chest.

The sight I beheld was vile. Scarring. Traumatic.

Leaning over a dusty couch was a corpse. A middle-aged man hung off the side, fairly fresh blood seeping out of his neck. It dripped into a large crimson puddle on the floor. In the side of his neck, Henry’s pocket knife was deeply lodged. I could only see the back of the man’s head, but I didn’t need to see his expression to know that he was dead.

So, understandably, I screamed.

My knees were trembling and my vision blurred. Oh my god, Henry just killed his dad. Holy fuck. I collapsed to the floor, black dots consuming my sight. My hands grasped at the wood panels. My legs hurt and a splitting headache consumed me. I was crying, but not because of the officer. Because of Henry.

He killed a guy! What the hell would he do now? He’d go to prison, oh my god —

Warm, strong arms circled around my waist. I greedily took in Henry’s form, hugging back. My tears stained his tank top. He smelled rank. He was covered in blood. But I couldn’t find the strength to push him away.

“Henry,” I sobbed,” what have you done?”

“Th - there was a clown, and I don’t know how it happened. I just… I was outside and then suddenly I just - just found myself there and he was dead,” he replied shakily. “He fuckin’ deserved it. But I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do, Y/n, I love you too fuckin’ much to go to fuckin’ - fuckin’ prison!”

“H - Henry.” I breathed in and out. In and out. In and out. “We… we have to hide the body. I can’t - you can’t leave me. We have to… to clean it up.”

“But what the hell will we tell everyone?” He tilted my head up, and my stomach churned fro the blood rolling down the side of his face. “I fuckin’ love you, but what the fuck can we do about this?”

I pushed him away, disgusted by the blood staining my hands. I had to calm myself. I had to… help Henry. He was my boyfriend. And his father… he deserved it. Yes, he deserved it, so Hen didn’t deserve to rot in prison. I had to help him.

“I’ve seen enough horror movies. We need to - to cut up the body into smaller parts. And we can dump it to the bottom of the lake. And - and we get rid of the car. ew throw it into the swamp and shit,” I thought aloud. “When… when people show up and ask questions, we’ll tell people that when he attacked you while drunk, he just stormed off. He abandoned you. He took important shit and… and left you. He’s gone.”

Henry nodded, wide-eyed and clearly not sane. He nodded more and ore, until I finally grabbed his cheeks to stop him. He let out a choked sob, pushing his forehead against mine. “I fuckin’ love you. Promise… you won’t fuckin’ leave me after this.”

“I promise, Hen. Let’s… let’s get to work.”

We both stumbled to our feet, holding hands tightly. Henry pulled me into the kitchen. He got a large butcher knife while I showered the kitchen for bleach, gloves, and trash bags. I was surprised that there were such materials lying around. Thank god.

We went to the corpse, both of us staring at it dejectedly. I was glad that Henry was as new to the whole ‘covering up murder’ thing as I was. For a moment, I had thought that he was involved with Greta and Patrick’s disappearance.

Henry put on his gloves and trudged over to the lifeless body. He grabbed his legs and pulled him onto the ground. Without hesitation, he took out his pocket knife and brought the butcher knife down on his throat. A disturbing crunch echoed in the room.

He repeated the action until, suddenly, he pushed it to the side, and the head completely dislodged from his neck. I wanted to throw up so badly. I was glad Henry was doing the dirty work, because we both knew I was unable to even touch that disgusting thing.

I decided to find a bucket, wash cloth, and a mop. I was grateful that for a few minutes, I didn’t need to watch Henry dismember his father’s corpse. I returned to the living room with a bucket filled with a water-clean mixture.

Henry had sufficiently dismembered his upper body. Bone marrow mixed with the blood. More blood was seeping out from the body as Henry sliced him up further. We were both silent, unable to lighten the mood - for a good reason. I stepped around him and turned off the television, which was nothing but static. I wondered how long it had been going for.

Afterwards, I soaked the crimson-stained couch with bleach. After a few minutes of hard scrubbing, I got out the various stains minus the entire floor. Henry suddenly spoke,” What the fuck do we do now?”

I paused, thinking deeply. “Uh - I - well… it was a really fucked up movie that I’m using as a reference, so… Next they rolled up the flesh into tiny meatballs. But no way in hell are we doing this. We - we should put it all in a trash bag…. I don’t know what to do about the fucking teeth, but…”

“Okay. Okay, I fuckin’ got it. Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

He was clearly disgusted at his own work. He grabbed the limbs and started plopping them into a doubled-up trash bag. I cringed at each resounding plop. While Henry did that, taking up several trash bags, I started mopping up the blood. After a few sweeps of the mop, I had to change the water.

I rinsed and repeated several times.

At least half an hour later, the living room was spotless and smelled strongly of detergent and bleach. Henry and I stood next to each other, coated in dried blood. I felt completely numb. I assumed Henry did too, from the stoic yet fearful expression he’d maintained the past hour.

Even in our filthy states, our fingers intertwined tightly. Henry gave me a reassuring squeeze. “What… what fuckin’ now?” Henry grumbled, basting his gaze to the floor.

“We need to… to Febreeze this shit,” I answered breathlessly. “And - and strip. We’re absolutely filthy. We have to get rid of the clothes. But in a… different place. You get the Febreze, I’ll start dealing with the clothes. And - and you knew him best. Get a bag of his most important shit. Stuff he’d bring with him if he abandoned - no, when he abandoned you.”

Henry nodded obediently. “Yeah. Good fuckin’ thinking. I… I love you, Y/n. Don’t fuckin’ leave me after this.”

“Stop. Stop talking about that shit. We just committed murder together,” I sighed, shaking his hand away.

I started stripping down to my underwear. Henry mimicked my actions, and once we finished, I took his clothes. Sure, there was probably a way to not get rid of the clothes, but ew. I just covered up a murder. The last thing I wanted to do was wear remnants of today.

Henry disappeared into another room. I bleached the clothes and shoved them into a trash bag. I sighed, my gaze lingering on the three trash bags that accompanied it.

Henry came back a few minutes later with a a bottle of Febreeze and bags. An idea suddenly hit me. There were dozens upon dozens of beer bottles and packs around. Henry and I seemed to share the same idea. I took some of the bottles and threw them against the television and floor. Just so then there’d be evidence of an angry white bitch storming out on his kid.

Half-naked and numb, we stood there and took a breather. “I found his fuckin’… car keys.”

“Good. Let’s load up, I guess.”

~~~

I ruffled Henry’s hair, enjoying the feeling of his bare chest against mine. I was too tired to keep my eyes open. It was cold outside, so I constantly tried to pull the man closer. He always obliged to give me more affection, one of my favorite things about him. We almost felt normal.

But we weren’t. Henry had gone batshit crazy and I helped him cover up the murder of his father. If anyone saw us now, they’d think that we were a normal teenage couple that just finished having forest sex, but we weren’t. We were cuddling after a traumatizing afternoon of burying a body in the lake we used to go to constantly for a swim.

How had my life ended up this batshit crazy? My senior year was supposed to be normal. My last high school summer was supposed to be normal. I used to be normal. But all because of the Bowers gang, Henry in particular, I dedicated myself to a toxic relationship, was dating a psycho kid that killed his dad, and I now had a body count.

It was safe to say, normal teenagers didn’t have a body count, yet here we are.

“Fuckin’ thank you,” Henry mumbled into the crook of my neck. “I don’t know what I’d ever fuckin’ do without you. You’re the bitch I’m gonna marry.”

“You haven’t even asked,” I chuckled dryly.

“Don’t need to.”

“We just graduated. Calm your tits.”

“Yeah, and we’re fuckin’ free to do whatever we want now.”

“A little.”

“You don’t sound excited,” he huffed.

“Pardon me for being traumatized,” I defended. “We just dumped your dad into the lake.”

“…Yeah. We just gotta fuckin’ move on somehow. I’m fuckin’ moving with you. We can live off campus, I’ll work fuckin’ part-time.”

“Let’s not talk about this right now. Let’s just… cuddle.”

“Okay. I fuckin’ love you.”