Blackmail (Patrick Hockstetter x reader x Henry Bowers)
Request: “Hey! I saw you take requests, and it’s amazing because I love your writings, and I was wondering if you could write one with Patrick and/or Henry and a very shy and quiet reader, where basically they back into her house (for a bet or something) and find like sexy clothes and decide to tease and blackmail her because of this. I hope you understand what I mean, English is not my first language so I hope I didn’t make a mess😂” ~ Anonymous
I love this!✌❤
A/N: Yes! Tits true! My inbox is open! Though I’m a little more picky with what I write than last time, you can ask whatever you want as many times as you want. Know that it means a lot to me that you guys like my writing! The sweet encouraging things you guys drop in my inbox litterally give me life! So please, your requests and feedback keep me goin’! ❤
Warnings: NSFW, blackmail, threeway, sex, rough sex, Pat x Hen stuff, Patrick’s pan ass, etc, etc, ETC! LETS ROCK N’ ROLL!🤘
You stared down at the blue plastic tray that sat before you. Riddled with slop, goo, and what barley passed as a piece of bread. Derry High being a public school, what were you expecting? Every week day at lunch you had to swallow your pride and what the lunch lady called ‘pea soup’ all alone in the back of the lunch room.
But latley, lunch was getting more and more interesting. And by interesting I mean, down right annoying. This small group of boys that sat a table away from you had started to pay attention to you. You hate attention. You sit in the back of the lunch room, back of the classroom, you spend P.E. class on the benches, you faced being sick one day so you didn’t have to present a paper to the class. You have this general, ‘I don’t exist’ vibe, and you like it that way. No one talks to you, no one picks on you, and you would have rather kept it that way.
But those boys had somehow found you an interesting target as of late. You don’t know what triggered it, what made them look at you. But they wouldn’t stop starring, talking to one another and then cackling like crows before looking back at you. It made you anxious and sweaty when they looked at you. Like they were planning something. Plotting. And today they took action.
It was a particularly hot spring day, and you were forced to wear a shirt that perhaps wasn’t as appropriate as you would have liked. For the first time, the girls were out to play in the wild. And the boys took notice. You’re not sure who threw the first shot, but suddenly you felt a scratchy little thing fall down your shirt. You looked down, and found a piece if popcorn sitting happily atop your breasts. You barley had time to remove it before another fell in. Farther this time. You hissed and tugged at the bottom of your shirt so it would drop out. The third hit you in the nose, and then you heard them burdt into laughter. You looked up at the four, Reginald Huggins, Victor Criss, Patrick Hockstetter, and an infamous Henry Bowers sat at the table in front of yours. Laughing like maniacs. It made you red in the face. Almost as red as Reggie’s who tried his best not to look, but still his large shoulders bounced as he chuckled. Vic’s hand shook Reggie as he laughed through the other hand that covered his mouth. Those two trying not to make too much of a scene. The other two however, didn’t give a fuck. The lankiest, limbs flying through the air as he cackled himself to the point of falling out of his seat and falling onto the disgusting yellow tile. He made people stare. And Henry just sat tall and let out a harty laugh.
You starred at them for a moment in disbelief. Then came the anxiety attack that tore through your body. Forcing ribbons of tears to fall from your eyes. People were starring at you. All the eyes, all the attention. You bolted out of the room to hide in the bathroom till your next class before you could go home. You walkes home with red eyes and a tight frown you held as the event still played through your brain and gave you the shivers. Never again would you wear that shirt. You were burning it as soon as you got home.
Of course you didn’t really burn it. You threw it in the hamper and changed into a baggy T-shirt to match the way you felt. You felt like crawling into bed and hidding away. But the world wouldn’t let you. You were shaken by the loud chime of your doorbell. You made your way to the front door with a confused look on your face. You unlocked the door and peeked from the crack you opened to look at the guests on your front porch. Your heart painfully leaped out of your chest and you used all your might to try and close it. But a sturdy hand firmly planted itself, and pushed so you couldnt.
“Aw, c’mon kid. Don’t be like that.” A naisally voice cooed.
“We just came to apologize for our little…joke at lunch today.” Henry pushed the door open further, there was no use in you fighting.
“H-How did you know where I live?” You quivered as Patrick slinked past you and into the entryway.
“Doesn’t matter.” He muttered.
“Your parents home?”
“No- But you can’t- hey- I said-” You tried to argue but they came in anyways.
“Nice place, Y/N.” Henry commented as he looked around, as Patrick started to climb the stairs. Wait, your room was up there. He can’t see your room. They can’t see whats in your room.
“Hey!” You shouted at Patrick who paused. His head slowly turned to look down at you standing there by the now closed front door. “You can’t be up there!” You warned him. He looked back down the hallway upstairs, then back at you.
“Why? Whats up here?” His smile reached from ear to pierced ear. Oh shit.
“Nothing, its just, my parent’s room is-”
“Oh, but we’re not interested in your parents room.” Henry chuckled at Patrick’s retort before they both made their way there. You managed a few weak words of protest as you rushed to follow them. You started to panic as they made their to your room, and opened the door.
“Lets see, what do we have here?” Henry asked himself as he first made his way to your dresser. Oh no. Oh no no no! You lunged for the dresser but you were too late. “O-hohooo!!” Henry reached in with his fingers and let the pefectly layed out fabric glide across his rough skin.
“Oh shit! I knew it!” Patrick looked into the drawer, both of them grinning like absolute idiots. Your heart raced. “I told you she was a freak!” Patrick nudged Henry as he held up a particularly prized piece of yours. A very lacy, very white and very revealing bra.
“Takes one to know one!” Henry insulted him, but neither truly cared. Too wrapped up in the discovery. You’d have thought they’d found a pirates treasure to way they handled the tiny pieces of fabric. You had a thing for pretty underwear. It was something of a self-esteem bust, even in your social crippled world, like any other it made you feel pretty. It was for you. Even the black one with all the tight straps and the underwear that was practically string. This was your little secret. Was.
“Put this one on!” Patrick demanded with a goofy grin as he turned to you.
“W-What? No!” You denied. It caught Henry’s attention.
“I bet she’s wearing one right now.” He cooed. They turned away from the dresser and started to advance.
“Get away from me!” You shouted as you backed up. You tried to run, but Henry grabbed your arms and held you there.
“We’ll make you a deal hot stuff. You give us a little show, and no one has to know about this.” They smiled at you with cruel, knowing grins. “And if you don’t, and you kick us out. Everyone will know about your dirty little secret. How you dress like a little slut under all that.”
“False modesty.” Patrick added. Your chest heaved as you thought for a moment. A little too long before Henry’s fingers loosened and they began walking past you.
“Have it your way. Guess you better get used to all the new attention at school, slut.”
“Wait!” You cried in a panic. They turned back to you with knowing smiles. You swallowed hard. “What…did you want to see?” You said with practically a whisper. They laughed.
“Atta girl.” They walked back into the room, and closed your bedroom door behind you. You barley had time to say a word before Patrick reached down and practically threw your clothes off of you. He smiled, pressing his front to your now semi-bare back as he looked down at your underwear. “Look at that. Pink.” He chuckled above you. You cowered under him as he practically inspected your form. You felt the pricking of denim on your lower back, above your butt.
“It’s alright I guess.” Henry shrugged it off. “I want to see her in this.” He threw a bright ruby red piece onto your bed. Patrick grunted with approval. You reached for it, and hid in your small walk-in closet to change. When you came out in a basic red bra and panty decorated with lace and hearts, you found the boys patiently sitting on your bed. Their eyes lit up with curiousity, and lust when they saw you. You could have sworn that Henry nearly creamed his pants the way he looked at you. Patrick didn’t seem too impressed, though his eyes didn’t look away. The adrenaline rush you got from this. It was a little, nice. You started to feel a little, good. And the way they looked at your body, the end all be all of that moment. It made you a little more confident.
“This one.” Patrick threw a one piece at you. A complicated piece to put on with straps, and sheer fabric. It was borderline bdsm. It barley covered what it needed to. You stepped out, and found both intriged but not satisfied.
“What? You don’t like it?” You asked nervously.
“Why? You want us to like it?” Henry probbed with a cruel grin. You shrugged. The next one, was something you didn’t wear very often, simply out of fear that you’d ruin it. The white piece Patrick first layed eyes on but Henry didn’t look too excited for. Of course, the restricted bulges in their worn jeans said otherwise. When you opened the door, you watched as Henry shifted uncomfortably in his seat on your bed. All eyes were on you, no one said a word. You couldn’t help but smile coyly.
“This ones my favorite.” You admitted as you rocked your body from side to side playfully. Finally Patrick smiled and stood.
“Mine too.” He cooed, his lithe fingers reaching for some loose fabric and grazing his skin against to feel it. His hot heavy breath crashing into your neck as he loomed over you, getting closer and closer. He inspected your body in the garment with those inquisitive eyes. Henry grew more and more hot headed as Patrick started to touch your bare flesh. Gliding his knuckles against your shoulder, back, belly, thighs, anywhere, teasingly. Egging Henry on to say or do something. “What do you think Henry? I’d like to see the blue one on next-”
“I don’t want to see anymore of that shit!” He barked. Patrick just looked at him and smiled. “I want a different show.” He told you as he stood and sauntered closer to you. Your cheeks went red.
“Different?” You asked, knowing damn well what he meant but being too damn scared to admit it.
“I want more.” He growled as his hand reached out and firmly pressed against your hip.
“Hey, I was here first.” Patrick told him, faking jealousy.
“Fuck off.” He told him as he leaned in to kiss you. Henry’s lips were shockingly soft, and the kiss was surprisingly sweet. Even as it heated up, he was gentle and conservative. He made you moan into his lips. When he pulled away, he latched onto you neck and pulled you close by your hips. Suddenly you felt pressure on your back, and long fingers forced your face up. Patrick kissed you from above and Henry felt you up. Patrick’s kisses were more liberal, passionate, and spiced. His touch was more gentle than Henry’s were. He was more patient, Henry was needy.
Henry made a fustrated grunt when he couldn’t get your bra off, he sounded almost like an angry child. You went to remove it yours, but Patrick beat you to it. He tossed it to the side and got the first grope. From behind, he reached from underneath and held them tightly. Rubbing in circles as he pinched at your nipples. He chuckled into your neck when you made a soft squeak. Once he let go, Henry took a turn roughly groping and sucking as he pleased. Patrick rubbed his clothed crotch against your as. Grinding up against you, forcing you to likewise grind into Henry. Who’s erection was getting painful with excitement.
“I want her first.” Henry growled after another needy kiss as he started undressing himself in a hurry. Patrick held your half naked body and rocked you from side to side with affection. You leaned back into him with your eyes closed. Your brain completely fogged over with lust.
“You said we had to take turns?” Patrick chuckled.
“Me, I did.” Henry barked at him. “I don’t want your dick in my way. This was my idea anyway!” He pulled you away from Patrick, and glared at him as he took you in his arms. He began kissing and loving on you as he took you to your bed. He had you get on the bed and bend over doggy stile. He pulled down your damp panties and he let out a satisfied sigh of approval before he rubbed his tip against you. You heard him shutter as he entered you. Your jaw dropped and your mouth hung open as he began fucking you. The feeling ran over your body in a pleasurable warmth. Patrick took the opportunity. He undressed himself, and was stroking himself as he walked over to the other side of the bed. He ran his fingers through your hair before he pulled your forward so his tip slipped between your lips.
“Good girl.” He forced your head to bob up and down on his cock as Henry rammed you from behind. Your eyes practically rolled back inside your head as you sucked Patrick’s big cock. You couldn’t make it to his base. Suddenly you felt yourself grow weaker, yet stronger? The strange sensation of a building orgasm as you were rocked between two worlds. You let out helpless sounds of pleasure as you were tossed back and forth. You let out an almost angry and fustrated grunt when Henry came before you. Having tired himself out, he passed out on your bed beside you. Leaving you unsatisfied. “That bastard.” Patrick grunted, pulling his cock out of your mouth and walking around the bed. You gasped as you felt him enter you. “I’ll give you what you need, baby.” He held onto your hips and began thrusting. Deeper, harder, and you were already so close, it kept building.
“F-Fuuuuuuck” you moaned as you gripped onto your bed sheets.
“Haha thats it. Cum for me Y/N.” He called to you as he fucked you, relentlessly. He had you practically screaming as you came around his cock. He let out a surprised huff as you shook under him. He came a few good thrusts after you. He panted over you as his hands let go of your hips, where he left small marks from holding onto you so hard. You panted with him, laying on your bed and taking a moment of rest. When you opened your eyes and looked up at Patrick, he was starring down at the passed out Henry. Patrick looked up at you and licked his lips before he reached over. He fondled Henry as he layed there.
“What are you doing?” You asked him.
“He may cum fast, but the fucker can reload quick.” You muffled a laugh, covering your mouth. You watched Henry as his head shifted and his face scrunched up. When Henry was completely up again, Patrick looked at you. “Watch this.” He knelt down by the bed and began licking Henry’s cock.
“Mmmhh” he moaned with his eyes still closed, still in a passed out daze. Patrick continued, to the point where he was sucking him completely. Taking him entirely. “Mmmhhh Y/N.” Henry moaned your name. You stiffled another laugh as you watched them. Until Henry let a struggled grunt, and a few daze hip thrusts later. Henry came into Patrick’s mouth. Once sure he was done, he pulled himself up. Keeping his mouth closed as he crawled onto the bed with you. Henry’s eyes fluttered open just in time to watch you. Patrick reached out and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you to a kiss. The residue of Henry’s orgasm on Patrick’s tongue going to you. You kissed Patrick back in the moment as he held you close to him.
From then on, you had new friends at school. The Bowers Gang were well acquainted with you, and shockingly they kept your little secret that turned dirty.
Hi everyone! This story is actually a request I had messaged to me! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! My requests are OPEN, so please send in whatever you please no matter how long or short, or big or small it may seem!I love hearing from all of you!:)
***Also as a side note- the person who messaged me wanted the character to have a personality like Harley Quinn’s. I might of gotten a little carried away, but couldn’t help the toxic relationship resemblance of Harley and the Joker that fit perfectly with the requested story line! I also might have listened to the Suicide Squad soundtrack while writing this, hence the title and if you’ve seen the movie, I used that as a little bit of inspiration too. You might notice some familiar situations and quotes 😉 Enjoy!
“You’re breaking up with me?” I ask in complete and utter bewilderment. He’s just joking right? This has to be some twisted prank he’s pulling on me like he always does, except this time it’s not remotely funny whatsoever.
“You heard what I said sweetheart,” he speaks nonchalantly, sitting on my bed with his feet touching the floor, while his hands laid flat on my bed behind his back.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” There’s no way in hell he’s dumping me right now.
“Christ Harley,” he huffs while tilting his head back in annoyance. “How many different ways do I need to say it for you to process it in that head of yours? It’s over. You mean nothing to me, I don’t want you anymore. Get it?”
I stood standing in front of him, my eyes wide with shock, not even being able to believe or comprehend the words coming out of his mouth.
“You’re not leaving me,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head. “Y-You can’t do this to me Patrick, I’ll do anything. Please,” I beg, cupping his face with my hands tenderly. His nostrils flare, seeming pissed as he flinches his head to the side, loathing my touch.
“Do you know how lucky you are to have a girl like me? I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to and this is how you’re going to repay me?” Tears are pouring down my cheeks and at this point there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. Patrick’s face lacked any sort of emotion as usual, as he stared at me completely unbothered. He rises up from the bed, and starts walking towards my bedroom door without saying a word.
My body was fueling with rage that he was having the nerve to walk out of here that easily and not give me any valid reason as to why he woke up this morning and just meraculously wanted to break up with me. I charge at him from behind and push him so hard that he actually stumbles a bit. He freezes in place, stunned, as his head ever so slowly turns around. That eerie smirks forms on his face as he lets out a breathy chuckle.
“Who is she huh? What girl have you been fucking behind my back!?” I yell as my fingernails begin digging into my palms.
Patrick moves his body so he’s completely facing me now. He begins taking very relaxed yet agonizingly slow and daunting strides towards my direction.
“Oh what? You think I’m fucking scared of you?” I wanted to push him as far as I could go, not even worrying about any consequences I may face. I needed answers and answers is what I was going to get.
“Why don’t you be a real man for once and tell me the fucking truth you dick!” I shout, feeling like a complete wild woman.
Patrick’s tall body is pressing against mine, making me have to raise my head up to look at him. He usually does this when he wants me to feel inferior to him.
“Tell me!” I scream, shoving at his chest, which was useless considering it’s hard as a rock and he doesn’t even move an inch.
“Fucking talk to me dammit!” I cry while hitting and pounding at his chest as if it were a punching bag. My blood was boiling as my hands were wildly abusing the boy, even though I wasn’t actually hurting him considering I’m a girl who doesn’t even have the strength to open a bottle of soda. What was making me more furious was the mere fact that he was just standing there, taking it, and not reacting to my insane behavior at all. I felt like I was a misbehaved child and he was waiting until my wild tantrum was over. He is never this calm. And that terrified me.
I begin to grow tired as my arms start to feel weak from flailing repeatedly at him. He hasn’t broken eye contact with me the whole time, but I could tell he was on the verge off exploding. Giving up, I stuffed my face into his chest, pathetically sobbing.
“Please,” I whisper. “Why are you leaving me?”
I’ve never felt like such a pitiful mess before in my life. My tears were making visible wet stains on his grey tank top, I was sniffling and hiccuping uncontrollably, and my voice was starting to sound a bit hoarse.
Still no fucking answer. I lift my head off his chest and smack his face with such force, my hand instantly starts throbbing. That might of been extreme, but I didn’t fucking care. Patrick always said he liked the fire I had in me, well now I was really going to show him just how much I can make him burn.
His face swings to the side from my hit, but he recovers quickly as he grabs my neck and slams me against the wall. I hiss in pain from the brutal impact on my head and back. He stares at me for what feels like eternity.
“You’re becoming too real,” he mutters, almost as if he was talking to himself, while both his hands are wrapped around my throat, choking me slightly. His nose was touching mine as his hot, minty, breath fanned across my face.
“What are you talking about Patrick? I-I don’t understand,” I respond, doing everything in my power to make sense of all this.
The expression on his face was unreadable, but if my instincts are telling me correctly, he almost looked a little….scared? Patrick’s eyes didn’t possess any sort of confidence, his forehead was so sweaty that his hair was sticking to it like glue, and his body was shaking a little bit. Patrick as a whole was just completely off.
“Please Patrick, let me in. I love you.”
I cannot believe those words tumbled out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. At this point I was desperate for him to change his mind. After all the bullshit he has put me through, all the dangerous escapades, all the craziness we’ve been through together, I fell completely in love with him.
In that moment, I truly don’t regret professing my true feelings to him until he suddenly begins to laugh. It’s not his usual laugh though. It’s a twisted, sick, cackle that was maniac like. I stood there, not even feeling like the Patrick I know was standing in front of me anymore.
“You silly, naive, girl,” he tisks at me, while tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “Trying to act all tough when yesterday I literally had you on all fours, kissing at my feet. Let’s get two things straight shall we? One,” he pauses before tightening his grip on my neck, making me barely able to breath. “You’ve always been just a fuck toy to me, and two” he says before letting go of my neck, but instead grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back yet moving my face closer to his. “Don’t you ever say you love me again, do you understand me?”
Patrick has hurt me so many times in the past that I started to lose count, but I truly believed at the end of the day he never wanted to loose me. Patrick becomes impatient at the silence growing between us. “I said do you understand me?” he growls through his teeth, tugging on my hair so hard, I feel he might actually pull it out.
“Yes,” I whimper, staring down at the carpet. He releases his death grip and I immediately start rubbing where his violent attack on my head was. Patrick gives me one last stare down, most likely judging my horrific appearance. My mascara was running down my face and my eyes were totally bloodshot.
When Patrick’s about to leave, he sees the picture frame I have of me and him from when we went to the carnival, sitting on my desk. I was smiling ear to ear while he was grabbing my face, kissing me on the cheek. Patrick snatches the frame and throws it against the wall, right by my head. I jump before I see tiny shards of glass sprawled out at the bottom of my feet. As soon as he walks out, I sink down to the ground and stare at the picture sitting in the completely destroyed frame and begin to bawl.
The next day, I looked like a got hit by a fucking train. I have horrible bags and dark circles under my eyes, my hair is natty and unkept, and my eyes are severely swollen considering I was crying the whole entire night. When I walk into Derry high, everyone is staring at me and whispering over to their friends as if I was some mental patient who just escaped the looney bin. They usually always looked at me like that when I had Patrick’s arm slung around my shoulder, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case today.
I’m at my locker and grab my binder before I see Mike come to my side, making me slightly surprised. Patrick never let me be within a foot of him since that very entertaining Thursday afternoon.
It was after school, and I was out on the field for my cheerleading practice while Patrick was leaned over the gate, watching me while smoking a cigarette. I found it so arousing when he did this, loving how easily I could tease him when bending down to touch my toes, ass perked up in the air to “stretch.” Patrick knew my games, but as much as he would never admit, he absolutely loved when I tested his patience. My hair was in pigtails that day and I remember being so excited to perform our routine. Mike went to stand by Patrick, as he joined in on staring at me closely.
“She’s flexible,” Mike observes as I’m practicing my splits.
“You have no idea,” Patrick smirks, his plans for me tonight already plotting in his head.
“You’re a lucky man Hockstetter. Where do I find me a bitch like that.”
For some reason, that comment didn’t sit well with Patrick. At all.
“Harley,” he whistles, using that as a way to holler me over. As soon as I hear it, my head immediately perks up, and I run towards him. Once he’s in front of me I grab his face and give him a big kiss.
“Lookin’ good out there doll face. Mike here seems to think so too,” Patrick remarks, licking his lips deviantly. Mike gives Patrick a questionable look, seeming embarrassed and annoyed as to why Patrick would even call him out on it like that. Me knowing how Patrick is, I know just what he’s trying to pull.
“Oh yeah?” I smirk, chewing my gum, getting closer to Mike. “You’re lookin’ awfully cute today Mikey.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, fidgeting with the chain necklace he was wearing. I’m face to face when I grab his collar, pulling him in closer.
“You want me?” I purr seductively. “I’m all yours.”
Patrick is staring at us as if he’s in a trance, while Mike constantly keeps glancing down to the ground worriedly. I can tell he was contemplating whether to fall for our little trap.
“Nah, this is your girl, man,” he weakly convinces Patrick.
“But I bet you’re enjoying yourself right about now huh?” Patrick sneers, pulling out his pocket knife.
“Fuck Hockstetter, relax, I don’t want no trouble,” he says frantically backing up with his hands up in the air.
“But we do,” I smirk as Patrick laughs and stalks towards Mike, slashing his arm with the knife in a blink of an eye, causing blood to seep out onto the track.
“Holy shit dude, what the fuck!” Mike yells, covering the bloody cut with his hand as he begins to run away like his life depened on it.
“You dick, I wanted to be the one to do it,” I smile at him as he chuckles, feeling like the most luckiest girl in the world.
“Are you feeling alright Harley?” Mike asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Patrick broke up with me last night, alright” I snap, not in the mood whatsoever to talk about it to anyone to avoid hearing them tell me I told you so.
“Oh, I’m really sorry Harley,” he apologizes, trying his best to sound sincere even though I’m sure on the inside he was overjoyed. I glance over at Mike and he’s staring at me like I’m some basket case which I can’t stand.
“Well just forget him Harley, its his loss anyway,” he says, trying to make me feel better. Forget him. Great advice. Let me just magically erase Patrick from my memory and pretend I never dated or knew him. Finally, I’m cured.
“Yeah,” I respond with absolutley no enthusiasm, slamming my locker shut. I look down the hall and see the Bowers gang all huddled right near Mrs. Crawford’s room. Of course they just so happen to choose to hang out there today. Patrick is doing that on purpose, he knows that’s where my first class is.
“Don’t worry about them,” Chris says while noticing my acknowledgement of the Bowers Gang. Feeling vengeful, a wicked idea pops into my head.
“Mikey,” I say in a sicking sweet voice. I twirl my hair while batting my eyelashes at him flirtatiously, chewing my pink bubble gum. “Will you be a gentleman and walk me to class?”
“U-Uh yeah, sure, of course, Harley.”
Putting him under my spell was almost too easy.
I wink at him as we begin to walk side by side. I can practically hear my heart beating with every step closer I get to him. I’m clutching my binder tightly to my chest as I feel all their gazes burn through the side of my head. Just when I think I’ve past them, a burgundy combat boot sticks out in front of my foot, resulting in me falling face first to the ground, my books flying out of my hands.
It’s like everything in that moment was happening in slow motion. I look up, both hands pressed on the cool tiled floor, hearing all the laughter coming from the boys and other observers who happen to witness my fall. I can’t believe Patrick fucking tripped me. Mike rushes over to me, grabbing the top of my arm.
“Jesus, are you alright? Here, let me help you.” I shrug his hand away, not needing any assistance on standing up on my own two feet. I take a deep breath in and out, collect my books off the floor, and get up, wiping my hands on my skirt. Doing my very best, I completely ignore all of them, knowing they just want me to feed into their twisted games and give them attention. Mike and I begin walking together again before Henry, the mullet wearing twat begins to speak.
“What happened to you? Looks like you rolled over and died,” he snickers, nudging Patricks arm like he just mustered up the best joke known to man. Patrick intensely eyes me from head to toe, seeming very pleased. He raptures my self destruction, especially knowing he’s the cause of it.
“What happened to you? Oh wait, I forgot you always look like an ugly, fucking, muskrat,” I spit back, not being able to be the bigger person and disregard them any longer. Belch and Vic snort, trying their best to hold in their laughter.
“Patrick’s right, you do have a filthy, little, whore, mouth. Too bad it wasn’t good enough to keep him around,” Henry smirks, biting down on his bottom lip while crossing his arms in a cocky way that made me literally want to pound his face in.
I felt like I was a ticking time bomb and Henry was the last second I had on the clock. Instantly, I drop all my books to the floor and make a beeline at Henry. He looks over at his friends and chuckles before I smack his head against the lockers. Suddenly, Mike grabs me from behind, lifting me up, and pulling me away from the Bowers Gang.
“Are you insane?” Mike asks in my ear.
Yes.
I thrash and kick with all my might, hating that I was being constrained because I wanted to hurt Henry more.
“You stupid cunt, hit me like that again and I’ll fucking kill you!” he shouts, trying to get closer to me while Belch and Vic grab his shoulders, holding him back. Patrick is leaned against the lockers completely chill and clearly amused, like he’s witnessing a bunch of zoo animals fighting.
“Go fuck yourself you dumb hillbilly!” I yell before Mrs. Crawford comes outside.
“What in the world is going on out here? Get to class. Now.” All the students immediately scurry away like a bunch of rats. Mrs.Crawford was a frail, old, lady with glasses too big for her face, but somehow she had her ways of being intimidating. I give Henry and Patrick one last death glare before picking my textbooks up off the ground. I walk into class and the whole period, I stare out the window, my mind being consumed with only one thought, and that is I wish I had never fell for Patrick Hockstetter.
The school day was almost over and I couldn’t be any more fucking ready. Classes today dragged on longer than usual, and I couldn’t tell if it felt that way because I was in a pissy mood or because my routine wasn’t the same anymore. I’ve become so accustomed to meeting up with Patrick after each class, sitting with him at lunch, or waiting for him at all of our secret spots where we would do…..stuff.
I had to make one last trip to my locker to put away my literature book considering it weighed almost the same as I did. My mouth practically drops to the floor when I see Patrick with a girl pinned against my locker, his tongue completely down her throat. I’m not totally surprised, I knew he had found someone else and I also was expecting some sort of payback from my actions earlier, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why he was being this spiteful to me. I can easily walk away and pretend like I saw nothing, but as difficult as it may be, I’m not letting him think his cruel behavior is having an effect on me. I’m going to be cool and calm and not rearrange this girl’s face.
I saunter up to them, clearing my throat as they both continue sucking each others faces off. They continue to ignore my presesnce even though I know Patrick heard me. I do it again, being way more louder and obnoxious this time. They finally seize their actions and notice my appearance.
“Hi! Can you find someone else’s locker to transmit an STD on? Thanks,” I fake smile while nudging the girl to the side with my shoulder. The blonde bimbo moves, probably knowing if she didn’t I would treat her the way I did Henry this morning. Her name is Tiffany Whittley and she has an IQ of a walnut.
“Well in that case you better get yourself checked,” he smirks, leaning his hand against my locker, completley ignoring Tiffany on his other arm who was waiting for him like a panting puppy.
I blatantly blow a bubble at him with my gum before doing what I need to do, shoving my book inside before closing it and storming off. He was making this break up hell for me and the worst part was that I have no idea what I did to deserve it.
It’s Saturday night and my huge, exciting, plans for the evening is sitting in my room alone, working on some calculus homework. I don’t have much friends, well besides Patrick, but I guess he doesn’t count anymore. At this point, I just wanted to be by myself and sulk in misery, wondering when this horrific feeling of heart break is going to go away. Lately, I can barely even eat or sleep, the separation from him taking a serious toll on me mentally and physically. I used to not always be like this. Before Patrick, I was a complete nerd who disguised myself in baggy clothing and would never hurt a fly and hated any sorts of attention. Meeting him changed my life. He created me into a whole other person I was meant to be. Ever since the day I saw that alluring grin, I wanted nothing more than to devote my whole being to him. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Sitting alone in the library on Friday after school, I was sticking my nose in my psychology book, which is my all time favorite subject. Patrick creeped around a corner, and sat down next to me.
“Whatcha readin’ there?” he asks, trying to smile like he was a nice guy, which we both knew he was not.
I giggle nervously. “Oh, I’m just working on a psychology project that’s due soon.” He scoots his chair closer to me so he has a better view of my textbook as he begins reading what’s on the page.
“Ah, the four feelgood chemicals. Wanna know my favorite way to get endorphins flowing through the brain?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Fucking,” he blatantly states, giving me a wink which causes me to press my glasses up to the bridge of my nose, my cheeks blushing like crazy.
“But it’s a certain someone who I can’t stop thinking about doing it with. She has this long blonde hair, and always wears these big glasses that completely hides her face because she’s insecure. She’s always by herself and doesn’t seem to have many friends which makes me wonder if there’s more to her than what everyone else thinks they know.”
I don’t answer him, not even believing he was talking to me right now. We have actually never spoken to each other, just a lot of flirtatious smiles and staring, my obvious goggling in the hallways hasn’t always been exactly subtle.
“Trust me, there’s nothing special about me,” I respond, glancing back down at my textbook.
“What’d you say we get out of here so I can prove you wrong?”
My grin grows as I bite down on my lip, while slamming my book shut, and begin packing my belongings up.
Coming back down to reality, I hear my doorbell ring unexpectedly. I jog downstairs and swing open the door to see Henry, Belch, and Vic.
“What the hell do you want?” I bark.
“Have you seen Patrick?” Henry asks, fidgeting nervously.
“No?” I respond in a tone as if saying to him are you serious?
“We haven’t heard from him all day. It’s strange, his folks, nobody knows where he’s at.” They’re all staring down at the ground, as if trying to conceal their deep concern of their friend’s whereabouts.
“Well he’s not my problem anymore,” I answer, about to slam the door in their faces before Henry sticks his black cowboy boot out, preventing me from doing so.
“Harley,” he warns in a threatening tone. “Can you not be a stubborn bitch for once in your life and just help us look for him?”
They have literally made my life miserable the past couple of days and now I’m the bitch. Even though I was doing my best to act like I didn’t give two fucks about him, on the inside I was panicking. Four kids have randomly gone missing in the past two weeks. The image of a missing poster with Patrick’s face on it flashes in my mind and I immediately feel nauseous.
“Fine. I’ll be right out.”
We get to the kissing bridge, and the flashlight I was holding shines on all the young lovers initials carved into the old, worn out, wood. I go to where me and Patrick’s is located and run my fingers lightly over it. I know how cheesy and stupid this sounds, but I was exploding with pure joy when Patrick wanted to mark our names. It was something that felt so permanent, making me feel like it was a promise to us that he would keep forever.
We decided to search around here because sometimes Patrick enjoyed waiting in the woods to see if any kids came about to bully, or he enjoyed killing and collecting the creepy bugs that crawled all throughout the area. One time he brought me back a dead butterfly from here and it was one of the most romantic things he has ever done for me.
“Why the fuck did you bring that baseball bat with you?” Henry asks.
“Listen boys, I don’t want to be the next kid to go missing in this town,” I respond, trying to keep an eye out for a very tall boy, with raven black hair. “Have you guys checked out over there?” I ask, motioning my flashlight to beyond the kissing bridge.
“Fuck no,” Henry retorts like I’m out of my mind.
“What? Ya scared Henry?” I smirk, loving to inflate his big, “terrifying”, ego.
“I’m not fucking scared, that’s just a stupid idea,” Henry defends. He’s such a baby.
“Well I’m going to go check it out,” I simply answer, raising my leg up to hop over the bridge.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea Harley,” Belch intervenes. God, they really are all a bunch of wimps.
“Look, you guys stay here and wait about 15 minutes. If I’m not back, then a terrifying monster is feasting on my body and you need to come find me okay?”
They all nod in unison as they watch me jump to the other side. I begin walking, and the deeper I go, I start to holler his name.
“Patrick! Patrick, are you here? Hello!?”
I hear nothing but the sound of crickets, and the crunching of leaves under my feet. Once I reach the small creek, I come to a stop and shine my flashlight at the giant sewer. There’s no way he would be in that shit hole. Once I’m about to turn around and head back, I see orange light illuminate the sewer and my heart drops. Fucking Patrick and his damn flame thrower.
I jolt towards the sewer and begin to yell his name as loud as I could. When I enter, my feet are immediatley soaked from the disgusting, filthy water in the tunnel. Awh man, these shoes are new. Flashing the light forward, my stomach turns when I see absolutely nothing. I stand there completely scared and confused, as it’s an impossibility that he didn’t hear me and that he’s now suddenly nowhere in sight. Walking cautiously, I go deeper into the sewer before I hear a high shriek of laughter. That voice definitely does not belong to Patrick.
“Harley,” I hear the voice whisper. It was so soft, sweet even, sounding like a small child, yet it echoed throughout the entire place. “He’s right over here. Come closer.”
I turn a corner and still see no one, but continue my way down. My hands were sweating and I could practically hear myself breathing as well as the splashing sound that occured with every step that I take. Suddenly, my flashlight goes out, making me trapped in the complete, pitch, black.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath as I whack the flashlight against my hand as if that’ll fix it. I’m shocked when it actually turns back on, but when I shine it out in front of me, Patrick is standing there, looking like a walking corpse. Bugs and maggots were crawling on his decomposed skin, he was smiling disturbingly with his teeth all rotten and decayed, and his clothing was completely torn and ripped. My mouth drops open in pure horror as my hand with the flashlight is shaking tremendously.
“Patrick?” I whisper, frightened beyond belief.
“Join us Harley,” that sinister voice whispers, except this time I hear it right inside my right ear. I gulp, knowing there’s a presence behind me as I slowly turn around. I raise the baseball bat up behind my head to see a bloody, gruesome, clown.
“What the hell?” I murmur to myself, not believing my eyes.
The clown giggles before It whispers, “We all float down here. Come float with us Harley.”
Patrick owes me big time for this.
“Okay Mr. Clown, I’ll float with you,” I answer, getting closer to the horrifying creature, his golden eyes shining brighter than my flashlight. It seems satisfied with my compliance.
“But first, I need to save my boyfriend,” I declare before instantly swinging the bat at the clown’s head, knocking It down to the ground. The horrifying creature gets on its knees as its mouth opens inhumanly wide while dozens of sharp teeth begins to form. I turn around and see Patrick lying on the floor, except he looks completely normal again. Frantically, I rush over to him.
“Patrick, c’mon we need to leave right now!” I urge, pulling his arm up with all the power I have. His body quivers as he begins throwing up blood that almost looked black. Right when I question if he’s actually still Patrick, he stares up at me and smiles, “Nice hit Princess.” Yep, that’s my man. Seeing that he’s himself and not dead makes any fear that I currently have totally vanish.
“We gotta go,” I rush, helping him stand up urgently. I grab his hand, and when I turn, the clown is gone and instead a couple of, “I heart Derry,” balloons begin to float around. We ignore them and start to run as fast as we can, trying our best to get the fuck out of here. Once Patrick and I make it out, we collide with Henry, Belch, and Vic.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Henry observes Patrick, examining the scrapes and cuts that scattered along his head, face, and arms.
“I tripped and fell down the steep hill right behind the bridge,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal. His lip was busted and his face was covered in dirt. I’ve never seem him looked so roughed up which is surprising.
“Well what the fuck were you doing down here then?” Henry snaps.
“I thought I heard Hanscom’s fat ass down in the sewer. Anything else?”
The boys were silent as if they knew something strange was up, but didn’t want to press on the subject any further. Still shook up from that clown, I glance over at the sewer one last time before seeing a single balloon floating its way out before saying, “Let’s go home.”
The car ride was quiet while tension filled the air, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. Patrick is alive and safe which is honestly all I care about, but I couldn’t help but replay tonight’s events over and over in my head. That thing is the reason for all the children’s disappearances, but who the hell would believe that a killer clown is the one to blame for it? I was so deep in thought that I didn’t even notice Belch was parked in my driveway already. I was waiting for maybe a thank you of some sorts until I realized the Bowers Gang is a bunch of unappreciative fuck faces. Annoyed, I open the door and am shocked when I see Patrick getting out on the other side.
“What are you doin’?” I question him.
“Get in the house Harley,” he demands, slamming the door shut. I obey him as we make our way towards the front door.
Patrick is sitting on my bathroom counter while I’m scaverging through the cabinet for the first aid kit. Finally, I find it and place it down next to him. I take out the antiseptic wipe, preparing to clean that nasty gash above his eyebrow.
“This is going to sting a little Pat,” I warn him.
“I can take it Angel,” he smirks, the familiar pet name making my heart flutter.
“Sorry, I forgot your indestructible,” I giggle softly while wiping away the blood and dirt from his wound. Of course unlike any other human, Patrick doesn’t even flinch. I feel his intense gaze on me, but try my best to ignore it.
“I thought you were dead,” I blurt, getting another wipe. “Don’t ever do something like that to me again, do you hear me?”
“And why’s that?” he asks, scanning my face intently.
“Because just the thought of losing you, like really losing you, I don’t even-” I can’t finish my sentence as my eyes start to water and I feel like a huge pill is stuck in my throat. I bow my head down as I feel the hot tears begin to roll down my face. He watches me cry for a minute before he grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.
“Tell me that you still love me, that you would do anything for me,” he orders, having that excited gleam in his eye.
“I love you Patrick. I can’t live without you.”
He smirks in satisfaction as he pulls me in by my waist, so I’m standing in between his lanky legs. “That’s my girl. You’ll always belong to me Harley.”
There’s nothing I wanted to hear Patrick say more than that. I want to be his forever, and if I be damned for it, then I’ll gladly burn in the pits of hell with him. That’s the thing, we fight with each other, but we also fight for each other. It’s true what they say about love. It drives you crazy. But when you’re both already insane, you only ignite the darkness within each other more, causing one another suffering and hurt. But what can I say? I’m a sucker for pain.
A commission for @watch-your-grammer who wanted an incubus with an asexual MC. I hope you guys enjoy because I LOVE this story.
Virgins are hard to find but they certainly aren’t rare, let me just start off by saying that. I’ve seen my fair share of movies and shit and I see people going on and on saying “we need a virgin sacrifice but they’re so hard to find.” Obviously, they aren’t looking hard enough. Virgins don’t look like anything, they don’t really smell like anything either. I don’t like them because they taste better or some shit. I like virgins best because I enjoy the challenge. I love to see the looks in their eyes when they realize who and what I am. I like to see them waver between fear and indecision. Their indecision turning to fantasy and the fantasy waver to reality. Seeing their internal struggle and their desire mix is what I love the most.
Why do people hunt in these modern times anyways? Is it because they have to or because they enjoy it? Well, for me, the hunt is my favorite part. It flavors the meal and seasons life, what is better than a thrill?
Doesn’t even realize how much he resembles your partner in that way
You can’t even say that there’s some fondness behind it all because in the end his as, if not more, of an aggressive person as your partner
But when he holds on to your chin to examine your face for any marks and tells you he’s going to cut off the nose of whoever did this to you and you flinch away from him…
He grows softer, just a tad, just enough to let you know that he’s trying
The next day your partner breaks it off with you via phone
You’re so confused and would be hurt if they didn’t say how they were undeserving of you
They also said something about how “you should date that Henry Bowers guy”… you think
It was kind of hard to hear what they were saying because their words were muffled and slurred together
Also seemed like there was someone else with them
Patrick
Just thought you were into kinky rough sex
Always making comments hints towards that
Starts to think differently the more secluded you acted
Decides to follow you around to see what’s going on
When he sees your partner slap you he laughs from the bushes
Waiting for the sexual stuff to happen
It never does
Instead you’re by yourself, hand cupped over your red cheek, trying your dang hardest not to cry
That’s when he makes his move
Sitting next to you gently he removes your hand from your face without so much as a word
He brushes over the burning skin with his thumb, a smile void of any real emotion behind it placed promptly on his face
He kisses you and you fight back but it’s short lived before you kiss him back, desperate for a more gentle touch
Something he figured you’d crave
He tells you, you’re breaking up with your partner and you agree only if he promises to be there with you when you do it
Of course he’s more than happy to
Belch
You didn’t want to tell him because you knew how he was like
Not that you ever feared for you safety when around Belch but rather the safety of your partner
It takes him the longest to piece 2 and 2 together
Chalk that up to your amazing acting… or his dumb take-everything-at-face-value train of thought
Either way, when he does he wants to know details
Who
Why
When
and How
Wants to beat the living stuffin out of your partner but you beg him not to, almost breaking down in tears
He’s so confused as to why you would try to stand up for someone who’s abusing you
It makes him feel a mixture of rage and sorrow.
He’s always had crush on you and seeing you rather be with someone who would hurt you than with him… it’s not fair.
Has no clue what to do if he can beat them up
Is there to comfort you but doesn’t know how??
“If we were dating I’d treat you a hundred- no thousand times better”
“Yeah? How so?”
He lists all the things he would do for you, most of them are things he’s seen in movies
You lean your head against his shoulder, holding his hand, the smallest smile beginning to form
“That would be nice.”
Victor
Always assumed something wasn’t right but never talks about it.
He already has one person who will bite his head off if he pushes the subject, he doesn’t need another one
You always had an excuse handy for where the bruises and scratches came from and he always gave you a conflicted stare, biting his tongue
Until you stopped hanging out with them
You made some bs excuse about how it would be best to spend more time with your partner than them
That might have slide with the rest of the gang (they’re idiots) but not him
He has tact, and waits until the two of you are alone before confronting you about it. Not letting you lie/reason your way out of this one
He doesn’t use violence to solve your problems (not yet anyways), only talks you into leaving your partner
When you agree to break it off with your partner he comes for both moral and physical support
Kicks your ex in the crotch just for funsies as your back is turned to leave
A commission for the amazing @quiet-janey929 who wanted her OC Charlie made into a werewolf set in my Hearthway Hollow universe.
I have to admit, this town seemed like a giant snooze-button at first glance. Everyone seemed so happy and complacent in their little lives. I had never been accepted into a pack that didn’t have some sort of constant power struggle going on. Everything in this town seemed so vanilla and saccharine. Sure, it would be a good place to raise my baby brother. But for me? There seemed to be nothing exciting whatsoever. But as Jean, my brother, puts it, that’s probably the best thing for me.
We came to this town in a last-ditch effort. We had heard the rumors, all about their specific rituals and how close-knit everyone was. The Alpha of the pack, Adam, heard out your story. Every gritty detail. He knew we were swindlers and con-artists, and sure he may have hesitated a bit when you revealed you’d both been raised in an assassins guild but he knew what we needed. He allowed us into his pack and gave us a place in the town. The local hardware store owner, Big Billy, a real jerk but he was someone who knew about second chances, he had a storefront for rent. As long as we kept up payments and didn’t destroy the place he let Jean and I live there and run our business. It was small, but it was the only stable home either one of us had ever had.
Hi guys! The first version of this
story wasn’t saved and my other version somehow wasn’t uploaded by tumblr… I’m unsatisfied with this new version but I
still hope you enjoy it. Have fun!
Accompanying your half-brother Jon to King’s
Landing wasn’t something you really wanted to do. But after the meeting with Cersei, you all saild back again, and all of you were kind of satisfied. Cersei promised your half-brother and queen Daenerys to fight with them against the white-walkers, and this was a big success for everyone of you. And on your trip to King’ Landing you were able to find a few new friends, like Davos Seaworth with whom you talked about your and his family. He was patient and kind
towards you, and you also liked Brienne, who had protected your sister Sansa
from Ramsay Bolton.
But you also discovered that Sandor Clegane, known as the hound, was
a nice person as well, although he didn’t liked to show it. But when the two of you were all alone, he always listened to your stories, even when they were
boring. When the wind was too cold, he always gave you his coat and sometimes
also shared his wine with you. So it happened that you fell in love with
him. It was naive, you knew that very well, and of course, you struggled with your own feelings. But Sandor wasn’t as bad as everyone thought.
As he decided to stay the whole day in his cabin, you thought it could be a
good idea to visit him. You knocked at his door.
“Sandor? Its me, (Y/N). Can I come
in?” He said nothing, but instead opened his door.
“What do you want?” His voice was
harsh, he definitely was in a grumpy mood, but you knew that he wasn’t angry
about you.
“Talking”, you replied with your
cutest smile, entered his room and closed the door behind you. You sat down on
his bed while he stood in front of you.
“How was your night?”, you asked.
“Terrible.”
“Is everything alright, Sandor?” Your
voice was soft.
“Yes”, he mumbled.
“I am worried about you.” He started
to laugh.
“Me? Why in the seven hells would you be
worried about me?”
Request: Ok, I don’t know if anyone’s asked or you’ve mentioned it, but can I get a part 2 to Broken Hearts, because that hurt. Love your stuff by the way.
Warnings: Language
It was a week and she hadn’t seen Henry since his confession. Duncan got better, though he still looked awful, his skin bruised much like a banana and his eyes still swollen shut from Henry’s fists.
Y/N tended to him when his mother was out, making sure he was getting along fine, but she could tell he was slightly frustrated at her for the ordeal. Everyone knew Henry and her dated, so it didn’t seem like such a coincidence that Henry chose Duncan of all people to hurt.
“I honestly don’t know why he picked you,” Y/N had exclaimed one day, tired of how Duncan was treating her. “All I saw was he was hitting you. I stopped it, didn’t I? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” However, she still felt horrible for looking down the hallways for Henry’s figure to appear rather than her own boyfriend’s. Why did this one guy have such control over her? They broke up. He hurt her. She should stop thinking about him, but she can’t. And through all that resentment she couldn’t help but blame him. Her thinking about him, yearning for his attention – it was all of his fault.
Another week passed before she saw him again, wearing the same type of shirt with the sleeves cut off and his jeans torn in all the right ways. It was almost as if he didn’t leave. His group acted the same around him, not at all bothered that their leader disappeared for two weeks. They didn’t feel the longing Y/N felt. She watched as he passed her, not even sparing her a glance or an acknowledging nod. She frowned, slamming her locker door shut and taking off down to her next class, absolutely furious.
How could he do this to her? He breaks up with her, beats up her new boyfriend, confesses, disappears for two weeks, and then returns without even so much as looking her way. What was he trying to do? Was this her punishment for falling for Henry Bowers?She sat at her desk in Geometry, slamming her textbook open and peering through it without actually reading anything. She hated him, yet she loved him. How could one person feel something so complicated for someone who didn’t even seem complicated?
She felt a nudge at her elbow and turned, seeing Patrick Hockstetter giving her a creepy grin as he toyed with a pencil case in his long fingers. It was a good minute before he finally reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, giving it to her before turning back to the front, pretending to listen to the teacher. Confused, Y/N slowly unwound the paper and tried to read the smudged words that were printed across blue lines in red ink, that of a pen. She recognized Henry’s handwriting and pressed her nose closer, almost touching the paper to her face.
‘Meet me at the Kissing Bridge at lunch. If that faggot tries to go with you, I won’t hesitate to throw him off. Henry’ Y/N suspected the ‘faggot’ was Duncan. She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement as she attempted to tune into the lesson Mrs. Bryerson was teaching, but she was too giddy at the fact she was going to be able to talk to Henry.
All that anger and hatred for him previously had suddenly disappeared, reasserting the very toxicity that was her relationship to him, but it didn’t matter. Even through all he put her through, she was attached to him. She knew it was wrong to feel this way about someone, but it didn’t matter. She missed Patrick’s eye roll directed at her, disgusted by her reaction at the fact she’d be meeting with his ‘friend’.
Periods rolled through and lunch arrived, Y/N trying to make sure nobody could see her as she began to make her way through the back exit, making sure her friends were well acquainted in a conversation that didn’t need her not to see her leave.
She didn’t make it to the door.
“Babe, where you going?”
Duncan had walked up, his tray in hand, one of his friends beside him making sure he wouldn’t trip or hurt himself. He could see a little bit now, but his vision was still blurred.
“I, uh…my mom called. She says I need to get home ASAP for an emergency.” Y/N lied quickly, giving a smile as she walked up and pressed a chaste kiss to his head. “I’ll be back in time for our debate meeting.”
“You don’t want me to go with you?” Duncan offered kindly, making Y/N wince. She felt so horrible for doing this to him. She needed to end things with him, she knew that, but she couldn’t do that right before meeting Henry in front of all their friends. That was even worse.
“No, it’s fine. I think it’s best if it’s just me. I promise I’ll be back. I’ll see you later,” Y/N waved, turning and leaving through the door, a teacher not batting an eye at the fact a student just left the premises. They needn’t care whether she get hurt or not. Derry never cared. Y/N sprinted off in the direction of the Kissing Bridge, a stitch in her side lengthening throughout her body as it finally came into sight, not a smidge of traffic going through. She saw him. He was leaning against the right side, twirling his knife in his hands distractedly as he stared toward the line of trees below, hiding the horrors within, or wild animals Y/N didn’t want to face.
“Hey,” she greeted breathlessly, slowing her jog to a walk as she approached, looking at him with a small smile. “I…got your note…obviously. That’s why I’m here. I just…I…what’s up?”Henry turned to her, his expression unreadable as it always was, but she read his eyes; she could see them soften as he took in her figure.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked finally, unable to wait any longer. She hated not knowing what he was thinking.
“To talk, obviously,” Henry snapped.
“After two weeks of nothing?” Y/N scoffed. “You can’t do this. You can’t just tell me something like that and then leave! I didn’t know what happened to you!”
“You were worried?”
“Wha–no! No, I was just…I was mad that…that I couldn’t reach you when I needed to,” Y/N lied unconvincingly, her cheeks reddening and catching Henry’s attention.
“I’m fine. I just needed time to myself. ‘Course my old man didn’t know. Would take off down the block to ‘school’, then double back when his car would pass. He’s a dumbass,” Henry sneered before looking at her more seriously. “I wanted to call you, but…I didn’t.”
“What do you want to tell me, Henry?”
“I wanted to tell you that I meant what I said. I thought you were gonna realize you didn’t want me, and you were gonna leave. So I did it for you. I tried to move on, but…all those girls were either bitches or easy fucks that just wanted me in bed. Then you got with that f–“ Y/N cut him off quickly with an angry, “Duncan. His name is Duncan, Henry.”
“Fine, Duncan. You got with that shit head. It pissed me off. As if that fucker deserved you.” Henry spoke, his tone growing steadily angrier before he finally asked the question he was dying to let out, “Do you love him?”
“What?”
“Do you love him? Duncan?” Henry demanded again, firmer. She didn’t answer right away. She thought about it. She was so willing to break up with him earlier before she went to meet Henry. If that was so, she didn’t love him, right? Was he just a rebound? Her heart still belonged to Henry, right?
“No,” she answered finally, guilty. “No, I don’t love him.”
Henry smirked, biting his lip.
“What about me?”
Y/N narrowed her eyes.
“You broke up with me and got with several different girls, all in front of me. You hooked up with GRETTA,” she sneered. “And when I get with one guy, you beat him up!”
“You just said you don’t love him!” Henry yelled.
“That doesn’t make it okay!” Y/N retorted. Henry stood there, balancing on each foot uneasily as he stared, exasperated, at her. He wasn’t angry, but he was overly frustrated. He wanted her and he wasn’t getting her.
“Why did you think I was going to leave you?” Y/N asked, changing the subject.
Henry paused. “I’m not exactly the most likable guy in Derry. You pretty much been turnin’ every douche’s head without even realizin’. I guess I figured you’d choose them one of these days,” Henry answered, shrugging uselessly.
Y/N sighed, trying to calm herself down. She felt really overwhelmed at the moment. All of this was too much. She shouldn’t have come here. It was a bad idea. “I love you…so much,” she finally admitted, her voice cracking. “I love you so much that nobody else can ever measure up to you. I love you so much I’m willing to hurt other people for you. That…that isn’t right.”
Henry could only stare at her, his expression, for once, understandable. He was relieved and hurt at the same time, a combination of completely different feelings. Instead of saying anything, he cupped her face tightly in her hands and drew her into a rough kiss, his chapped lips pressing deeply against her softer ones. Despite herself, she kissed back, placing her own hands over his as she closed her eyes and leaned into him, his body like a blanket of heat and safety encasing her.
She knew this was wrong. She knew she was going to hurt so many people, Duncan especially. But the toxicity was wanted. She wanted Henry. And he wanted her.
A commission for @heavens-light-hells-fire and another changes for me to build my Rakshasa court!
Originally, you had been hired on as a tutor for the twins of King Amit. Soon though, your position grew. King Amit then hired you to take care of the royal library. You still taught the boys, but since they were still very young the lessons were short. The rest of your day, you tended to the ever growing library the king was building. New books were delivered daily and it was your responsibility to take care of them.
It’s been no secret that those in the castle considering your position a joke. The library had only been a recent development in the palace. It was also a rare one. King Amit had taken the throne and made some drastic changes to the Rakshasa court, leaning more towards education rather than the usual war and strength that previous rulers had pushed towards. Some in the castle blamed the king’s bride for the changes. As such, your position on the king’s staff was mocked and derided. No one really paid you much attention when they weren’t trying to make a joke at your expense.
It takes a lot for Trick to get mad. But when he does get mad, it’s pretty scary.
He would never get physical, but he would get up in your face.
Trick is the kind of guy who doesn’t take shit from people. His dad used to hit him when he was younger. But as Trick grew older and stronger, his dad didn’t bother.
His face gets really red, and he grits his teeth and purses his lips.
He will storm off to a different room to calm down. He knows that he doesn’t want to say something he will regret.
Once you have both cooled down enough to sit down and have a civilized conversation, he’ll sit down and pat his lap- an invitation for you.
He holds you as you talk about whatever the argument started from.
Usually, it ends with him kissing you and apologizing fervently.
“I’m so sorry baby, I was being such a dick”.
How he would be in a relationship
Trick will always put his girls needs before his own.
He is super respectful of your personal space/boundaries and doesn’t push them, unless he thinks it’s good for you.
Like trying new foods or talking about the things that always make you want to change the subject.
He would never put you in danger, in any way. When he goes to sell, he always makes you stay home.
He is very supportive of you. Whether it’s school or a new job… anything… all he cares about is seeing you happy.
Trick is also very creative and spontaneous; he likes to live life on the wild side.
There have been nights where you are smoking by the lake, and the cops come. He grabs your hand and yanks you as far away as possible,as fast as possible. Your lungs burn as you finally stop running, laughing so hard that it would sting.
Then usually, you end up fucking behind a tree.
Trick’s kinks
He loves when you talk dirty, even though he tells you that you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable.
He LOVES to praise and be praised.
“You’ve got such a pretty little pussy, baby”.
He also LOVES to hear you moan and whimper
Once you asked about trying knife play… that was fucking hot.
Occasionally, he will tie your hands above your head, or blindfold you. “Up’s the anti” he says with a devious smile.
Even though Trick is mostly a gentle boy, he is down with marking you. Spanking, biting, leaving hickeys… he lives for that shit.
How Trick likes to end the night
Trick will usually be the big spoon, and he’ll hold you close to his chest.
Typically, once he hears your breathing even out, he’ll lean up and place kisses on your cheeks and along your neck.
He smiles down at you, whispering out things like “my beautiful sleeping beauty” and “how did I get this lucky?”
He likes to nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck and feel your pulse beat against the side of his face. It’s extremely calming for him.
Once he gets really sleepy, he’ll pull the blankets up and pull your body close to his before he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.
Pansexual Monster Girl 