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alsoitsjunie · 4 months

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PATRICK HOCKSETTER X FEMALE BULLY VICTIM PT. 3

FUCK YOU FREAK

so we're starting to get somewhere with this story yayy!! patrick is a mega stalker now, on the count of breaking-and-entering!! anyways, last time, you, the reader had set out to fuck up patrick! (yay for you)

overall tw for all counts of violence and assault and more violence ofc

ily all

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it was a colder night, crickets were chirping and cicadas were buzzing and mosquitoes were nipping at my legs. i could care less. all i could feel was anger and disgust and fear at the acts and past of patrick hocksetter. i still had the bread knife clenched in my clammy palm, and my breathing was heavy as i stomped down the street towards patrick's house. i remembered memorizing his address and the way his house looked and the schedule of his family, all so i would know to avoid it. to take a different street after school, to know to start running if i see his bedroom light come on at night, and to never make eye contact with his mother when she waters her flowers in the morning in the fear of her acknowledging me and him over hearing.

just living in fear of him. and im so sick of it. it ends tonight. i stood at the end of his driveway and his parents car wasn't there. perfect. i stomped up to the front door and a sudden wave of overwhelming fear washed through my body.

why am i scared now. I've spent my whole life being afraid of this fucking asshole. whatever happens i can't be afraid of him. im so tired of this.

i turn the doorknob handle, knowing it was unlocked. i swiftly stepped inside and silently closed it behind me. i practically tiptoed through the front hallway, tightly gripping the knife in my clammy hand. the second door on the left side of the hallway was his bedroom.

i could hear him moving around in his room, maybe unlacing his boots considering he was done stomping around my room like a fucking bozo.

i reached for the doorknob and my fingertips just barely grazed it when the door swung open and i was face to face with Patrick’s chest. my blood froze.

then suddenly i was reminded that he had been making my blood run cold my entire life. and i was tired of it.

my brow furrowed and my lip curled and i cracked, lunging at him with the knife in my hand and pure hatred in my eyes.

i really don’t know what i was thinking. hes much bigger than i am, definitely stronger, and definitely crazier.

not even a second had passed before i was on the floor with the knife flung down the hallway; Patrick standing at my feet. my breath stopped in my throat and i felt nausea pilling in my stomach.

fuck fuck fuck. why did i think i could do this? im gonna fucking die in patrick's fucking house and they're going to use a terrible photo of me in my obituary.

i scrambled away from him, scampering down the hallway and reaching for the knife. a wrecked cry flew from my throat as his muddy boot came down on my hand. he grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back down the hallway. away from the door, away from the knife, the street, my life.

i was dragged into his bedroom, the rug folding up under my writhing legs. i kicked at his ankles, and scratched at the floor. after i was fully in his room, he tossed me sideways and stepped to slam his door closed.

why did i decide to be brave. why did i think i was strong enough to do anything? why am i so stupid.

patrick stood in the entrance to the bedroom, just standing there. staring. i had scrambled back against the wall, hugging my knees. i couldn't understand the look in his eyes. he looked angry.. but in a way that was sad.. almost disappointed. it was a long, tense, silent moment before he said anything.

"why would you do that."

it wasn't a question. all of a sudden i was angry again. i lunged up and at him, hands ready to claw at his face.

"because of you! its you and Henry and fucking Victor and Belch! its you! you make my life a living hell! i hate you i fucking hate you and everything you've done to me in my life! i want you dead!'

i clawed at his neck and he grabbed my wrists, holding me away as i screamed in his face.

"im tired of having to live with you terrorizing me!"

i was cut off when he shoved me back, my hip hitting the backboard of the bed. i groaned in pain.

"why do you think i 'terrorize' you?" "hm? ive told you before. its because you're real. like me."

i sighed. "oh shut the fuck up patrick. what does that even mean? you're real. im real. of course i am! this is fucking real life!"

his face faltered. he stepped towards me again with a darker look fallen over his body. "the last time someone else came into my life and was real, he ruined everything. i had to fix that. and now im the only one left. or i was. but then you showed up. i realized you were real too and that i had to fix it early. and i did." a crazed smile started spreading on his face. "everyone else is fake! its just us that are real! and its only going to be us!"

so much shock surged through my body that i laughed. an exasperated, tired laugh of pure confusion wheezed from my lungs. "what the fuck is wrong with you? oh my god you're fucking insane! im talking to an insane person! you're crazy!" i gasped in between laughs. his face fell.

"no." he stepped forward, his eyes darker than ever. 'im not crazy. im real. and.. you are too. i knew you wouldnt understand. you think you can fool me? you just want to replace me." he stepped forward again, his hands stiff and shaking and his face stone.

the wheezing laugh had left me, as well as all the air left in my lungs. the tone in his voice was telling. i never should've called him crazy. you cant call crazy people crazy.

im not going to make it out of this house alive.

suddenly his hands were around my throat, squeezing, tearing ripping at my skin. i screamed, a bloodcurdling scream and tore at his shoulders. my nails dug into his face, and his into my neck in return. i could feel the air struggling to enter my body.

i was gasping and screaming and sobbing, suffocating.

and i could only look at him.

i could only see his eyes. they weren't brown anymore, they were black. like a sharks eyes, dark and unforgiving. inhuman.

as darkness crept into the corners of my vision and my limbs went numb, i could only think of one thing.

what if i wasn't in that class in fifth grade.

#patrick hocksetter #henry bowers #bowers gang #victor criss #patrick hocksetter x reader #it2017

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alsoitsjunie · 6 months

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why was the saw boom mic guy serving cunt

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alsoitsjunie · 7 months

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im so normal about her im so normal about her im so normal about her im so normal about her im so normal about her im so normal guys im so normal

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #tlou2 ellie #tlou #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby tlou2

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alsoitsjunie · 8 months

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and if i say gojo satoru

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alsoitsjunie · 8 months

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PATRICK HOCKSETTER X FEMALE BULLY VICTIM PT. 2

ITS MORE THAN BULLYING NOW.

patrick x reader bully victim

again, overall tw and the same ones as last time. also the reader has only a mom in this, so sorry if you don't have one or you dont like yours.

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its been a few days, and i genuinely cant figure out what patrick was talking about on friday. what did he mean by 'im real and i think you are too." what does that mean? of course patrick is real, nobody that sadistic could be fake, but then what did he mean that i was too? god why does he have to be so mysterious all the time? i just want an answer to all of this..

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i try and shove it to the back of my mind, as i walk downstairs to make something to eat. jesus this is weird. im kind of glad he decided to do that yesterday, so then i could have the entire weekend to think over it. this is so crazy. i have no idea if i'm more nervous to go back to school now or not..

my mind was going 100000 miles per hour as i stretch on my tip toes and grab a box of cereal from the cabinet, and then the milk from the fridge. there was a note from mom on the counter next to the fruit bowl.

hey honey,

i had to go into work early to help mike with a project. maybe go to Emma's house later, but i wont be home until 10 ish. there's a pizza in the freezer.

love you!

i slurped cereal out of my spoon as i read the note and smiled to myself. i should go to Emma's house. i haven't seen her in a minute and it'll help get my mind off this whole 'patrick' situation. i nodded in agreement with myself, then put my empty bowl in the sink and went back to my room.

i fixed up my bedhead, and then grabbed a pair of jean shorts and a large t-shirt, and my chuck taylors. i took a glance at myself in the mirror and sighed, mentally scolding myself for the shit I've let happen over the last 5 years, like i did every morning. i'm so stupid. so vulnerable.

whatever.

i shut off my light and closed my bedroom door, then went downstairs. i grabbed my house keys off the hook next to the door, and then closed and locked it behind me. i felt uneasy the whole walk to Emma's house, constantly checking over my shoulder. eventually i got to Emma's and her mom let me in, and i was thanking god that Emma only lived about two blocks away.

me and Emma spent the day together. we went to the convenience store and got slushies, and then to the park where we met Jonathan and hung out with him for a bit. once the day few by, and the streetlights started coming on, we all agreed that we should go home before it got darker. as soon as i was walking home and i wasn't with Jonathan and Emma, dread crept over my body. it was dark, i was alone, and i had no clue whether or not henry and his gang were out on one of their little 'patrols.' i feel like it took an eternity to get home, but i finally did, and as soon as i unlocked the door and stepped inside, I locked the door and went to the kitchen. I reheated a slice of leftover pizza and leaned against the counter while i ate it. it was dark in the house, with the kitchen counter lights being the only thing lighting up the room i was in. after i was done eating, i turned to the sink and scrubbed a few plates that were sitting in the sink. when i was done, i clicked off the kitchen lights and walked back to my bedroom. halfway down the hallway, i heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor. inside my bedroom. immediately my heart dropped to my stomach, and i became silent. slowly i backed up, sliding my socks along the carpet, never lifting my feet, not making any noise. i slipped back into the kitchen and frantically looked around, somehow forgetting where anything was in my house. i grabbed a bread knife from the first drawer and spun back around, quietly pacing back and forth, trying to get my head on straight.

okay.. theres someone in your room. you dont know who.. but you know that they could be dangerous. shit. okay.

i inched back down the hallway, not breathing. i slowly grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. my room was still. there was nobody there. yet my clothes were scattered all over the floor, my bookshelf was missing three of my favorites, my window was wide open, and there was dried mud on my floor. my jaw dropped in shock and i uttered out a small squeak. i stood there in disbelief as i walked into the room further and closed the door behind me. i flicked on my lights and dropped the knife on my bed. after i stuck my head out of my window and saw nobody, i quickly closed and latched my window, pushing my curtains closed. as my fingertips dragged over the windowsill, my nails caught on a notch in the wood. my brow furrowed as i looked closer and traced the lines. there were two letters engraved in my windowsill. initials.

P. H.

that son of a bitch patrick. terrorizing me at school was one terrible thing, but breaking into my house, my room, destroying my belongings, stealing my stuff and carving his fucking name into my windowsill. carving his name into my life. im fucking done dealing with this.

i threw on a sweater and my working boots, grabbed the kitchen knife again and stormed out of my house. i didn't bother to lock the door. i didn't care if id be back or not. i was going to kill this freak.

author note.

HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED BUT IM WORKING ON THE NEXT PART I PROMISE THERE WILL BE SOME ROMANCE BECAUSE IK YOU ASKED FOR THAT!! I LOVE YALL SM

#patrick hocksetter #it2017 #the losers club #losers club #henry bowers #victor criss #belch huggins #patrick hocksetter x reader

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alsoitsjunie · 11 months

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patrick hocksetter x female bully victim

ASKFJSKDJHSLA BLESS YOU FOR GIVING ME SOMETHING TO WRITE ILY (PSA) if you like any of my work, pls pls pls request something!! i love writing these!

okay i got this in the bag. im not gonna use a lot of descriptive terms for the girl in this because i didnt get a lot of input WHICH is not a problem but i dont wanna make this unfit for the requester (or anyone frls) anywayss basically the reader in this is has been targeted for quite a few years, starting in elementary with bowers and hocksetter, then in middle school with huggins and criss. i also wasnt sure if this was supposed to be a ship or romantic or not butt im making it a little bit. but not a lot. im gonna js start writing now i hope you enjoy!! also this might be a little long.

little one

patrick hocksetter x female! bully victim

(first person)

tw! stalking - lowkey sexual harassment - mentions of suicide-

first day of 5th grade, stepper elementary school derry Maine. my mom had picked an outfit for my first day, a pair of overalls and a little striped short sleeve with my boots and some ponytails. thinking back, that was an adorable outfit. yet the way i remember feeling when they ruined it was not.

i had that class with dumb and dumber themselves, patrick hocksetter and henry bowers. i didn't know much about them at the time, considering that 5th grade was the first year i had a class with either of them. id heard rumors about henry and some boys he was friends with being huge bullies and to steer clear of them, so when i walked into that classroom on the first day and saw them sitting in the back corner, warning signs flashed in my peripherals.

id always been an anxious kid, hell my parents bothered me about it every chance they could get. anyways, i was already having stomach quivers about starting school, and now i was in the same class as them. of course, as i was trying to lay low, the teacher decided to put me at the table in front of them. i could just feel the terrible intent radiating off of the boys behind me, through the icebreaker games, through math, reading, science, and even recess. recess was where i met my best friend, Emma. she was in the other fifth grade class, with the other two boys, reggie and victor? i think that was his name. she told me all about the things people say about the group.

especially patrick. they say he killed his younger brother with a pillow when he was five. im still shocked to this day about that. but i remember going back to class after that and feeling oddly cold sitting down in front of that boy. throughout the rest of class, i was slowly preparing myself to ask the teacher to move my seat. so when the dismissal bell rang, i waited for the rest of the students to leave, including patrick and henry, to go to the teacher and tug on her sleeve to ask her to move my seat.

the next day, she sat me across the room, next to a boy named jonathan. i was feeling much better about that class, until about halfway through lunch. i was sitting with Emma and Jonathan, chatting about our highscores in dig dug. out of nowhere, it got extremely quiet in the lunchroom. i stopped talking and carefully looked around, before realizing everyone was looking at our table. my blood ran cold as i realized Emma was staring at something directly behind me, dead eyes and mouth agape.

slowly i turned around, only to be met eye to eye by patrick hocksetter. he had a sca smile on holding a balloon filled with something and a thumbtack. before i could even ask what he wanted, he stabbed the balloon directly above my head, letting bright blue liquid splash over my hair, and down my face and clothes. he erupted into laughter, followed by the rest of the boys, followed by scattered giggles across the lunchroom. i coughed in shock, blinking, before the burning sensation set into my eyes. i started crying, and my throat was closing at the smell and my coughing. through my blue blurred eyes, i stumbled up, shoved through the four boys and the rest of the laughing lunchroom and ran out to the bathroom. before i could even make it there, a hand grabbed the back of my shirt.

henry had pulled me out of the bathroom doorway, and now i was surrounded by the boys.

'hopefully that'll teach your stupid fucking girl brain not to snitch to the teacher about us." i heard a voice sneer at me. i rubbed my eyes and watched through blurry vision as they turned and started walking back to the lunchroom. "but we aren't done with you SNITCH" i heard henry yell as i carefully stumbled into the bathroom.

and they decided they weren't done with me. not for the rest of the year, not for the year of 6th grade, or 7th grade, or 8th, or oven freshman year. and each year they got more and more creative. it evolved from shoving me on the playground, to snipping off pieces of my hair when i wasn't paying attention, then when i hit puberty, showing off my bled-through gym shorts, catcalling me in the hallways, and snapping my bra straps. leaving threatening notes in my locker, as well as dead flies, yknow, the usual.

eventually, i got used to the humiliation, but i was extremely surprised that it all came from me just asking to move my seat in fifth grade.

now its sophomore year, and its gotten worse yet better. im only really targeted by patrick and henry, the other two are really just in for the ride. belch, as they call him, is actually kinda nice to me. we have social studies together. i let him borrow a pencil one time and give him homework answers and in return, he kinda started being nice to me. patrick on the other hand was treating me exactly the same. stalking me through the hallways, following me home, leaving me threatening notes, boring his eyes into the back of my head in class, carving his initials into my windowsill....

but it seems like hes become more obsessed than hateful. one time i found a list of my backpack contents inside my pocket. and half the time i dont even know how he finds out some things. its kinda scary. whos fucking kidding its terrifying. and im so fucking tired of it.

he terrorizes me. i sprint home everyday so he cant catch up to me. sometimes they all take belchs car and i hear the engine rapidly approaching me. all these things build up over the days and weeks, and it makes me feel like im genuinely going insane. i have panic attacks on my way to school, i flinch at people trying to hug me, i just live under the freakishly tall shadow of patrick hocksetter. i wonder how he can be so messed up when we're only fifteen.

anyways, back to present day, biology class. which i coincidentally have with both bowers and patrick. lucky me. i sat two desks up and diagonal from both of them, each on either side. it was the second to last month of school, and we were finishing our human anatomy unit.

i was zoned out, listening to the droning, buzzing sound of our teacher's voice. at the feeling of a crumpled ball of paper hitting my shoe, i came back down to earth, glancing over my shoulder at patrick, who had a grin on his face. i slowly reached down and picked up the crumpled note, opening it and reading it.

'you n me behind the school, 3;30. if youre late, pray you're fast enough to get home before i do. which you wont be. thanks little one.'

i let out a shaky sigh when i finished reading the note. then crumpled it back up and shoved a half assed thumbs up under my arm at him so i didnt have to turn around and look at his face.

my hands got clammy as people started to pack up their backpacks, and i felt myself getting a headache as the bell rang and students filed out of the school. patrick and henry sauntered past me, and patrick let his fingers slideeee across the surface of my desk.. like a warning. jesus.

i took a deep breath, preparing myself for what i had in mind about putting a stop to this shit. i held my pen in my hand, in case i needed to use it as a shank.

as i rounded the corner to the back of the school, i saw patrick leaning against a tree, twirling a stick in his fingers. i cleared my throat and anxiously kept walking towards him. he watched me walk halfway towards him, then he pushed himself off the tree and walked to stand uncomfortably close to me.

'what do you want patrick.. '

he scoffed and started walking around me. 'what do i want? well theres a lot of things i want from you.. if youre offering-' he chuckled near my ear, and i could feel him twirling a piece of my hair in his fingers.

i think that was the moment he drove me crazy. i elbowed him in the ribs and spun around, backing away. i could tell i was gonna cry, either out of anger or fear, but there were tears pooling in my eyes.

'im fucking done. what do WANT from me?? I have done NOTHING to deserve this, and yet you still humiliate me, and terrorize me every day. is this really about fifth grade?? because i feel like thats been repaid for a good four years. what do you get from this? do you get off on making my life miserable like some weird perv?? GOD hocksetter im done! im fucking finished! ill have to kill myself before you'll let me live!' i cried, pacing and screaming at him.

i stopped to catch my breath. he looked shocked for a slight second, and then his face went back its natural smirk. he paced towards me, grabbing my face with his hand, squishing my face.

'you sweet little thing. it is repaid. its been repaid for a while. you just intrigue me so much.. i couldn't possibly stop humiliating you.. you're too infatuating.' he stared at every detail of my face, almost mapping it, before he shoved my face away from his hand. he went right back to circling me again.

'yknow.. it was never really about scaring you. i mean of course i enjoyed that part, you're absolutely hilarious to terrorize.'

i almost laughed in disbelief. ive been going through this all for his shits and giggles. what the fuck is wrong with him.

'it really started wayyyy before fifth grade. it was probably around third grade that i noticed you. i think it was when you were in the school concert... i realized how much you stuck out from all the other kids you were singing with.. and i just became infatuated. i think youre real. like me.'

what the fuck is he talking about?? real? of course im real.. what is going on?

he was walking towards me again, and i stumbled a few steps back until my back hit the hot brick wall and i felt suffocated when i realized.

im afraid of you.

'i dont want to be afraid of you anymore. please. patrick please stop doing this to me.' i pleaded, willing the tears back.

he leaned in closer, if possible, pressing me against the wall. i felt him inhale against my scalp, and for a minute, i felt the wind stop blowing and the birds stop chirping, and i could only feel my heartbeat in my ears and could only smell the sweat and bodyspray that came off of him.

then he backed up, pulled his hands off my shoulders, and stepped away. "go. im not done, but you're done being terrorized."

i shuddered. praying he wasn't lying. i slowly turned my back and started walking away, when i heard him call after me.

'hey. just so you know, youre mine. so youre safe for now. but youre still mine. some things are staying the same. go home.'

i turned around again and started walking home, going over what had just happened. on repeat again and again. what did he mean? im real? of course im real..

what the fuck just happened.

ok so i think that was good.. and im done now so thank you sunshine!

-junie

#patrick hocksetter #it2017 #bowers gang #pennywise #derry maine #losers club #belch huggins #henry bowers #victor criss #it 2019 #it #the losers club

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