#bowers

𝑩𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔

Cw:Strong lenguage, Cruel humor, Underage smoking, past violence.

(Not Pat include because is book ref babys)

♡

“Pass me that pack of cigarettes, Vic.” You waved your hand in the air, gesturing for the blonde to give you what you’d asked for.

Uncharacteristically, it was a rather quiet afternoon, completely free from the noise of any trouble or nuisance with a first and last name.

You felt grateful as you sensed the cigarette pack in your palm, lighting one up with ease.

Vic walked over and sat next to you on the trunk of the car as he took the pack of cigarettes back.

“Don’t want a drag, Belch?” Vic looked over his shoulder at Belch, who looked like he had just stepped out of a sauna with how sweaty he was.

"Nah, catch ya later on that." he muttered with deep concentration, turning the wrench on the car engine or whatever it was he was fixing.

Vic shrugged, slipping the pack into his leather jacket while inhaling and exhaling his own cigarette with a hint of anxiety.

You noticed how Vic tensed up as he inhaled the smoke and completely relaxed his body the moment he exhaled it. You drifted your gaze toward the inside of the car where Henry was, unusually quiet, staring at the switchblade his old man had given him.

"This is total shit." Henry’s gravelly voice finally cut through the calm of the afternoon. He propped his feet up on the dashboard, sinking deeper into the seat. We all went quiet, waiting for him to go on.

"Don’t just sit there like a bunch of goddamn morons. We should be doing something" he spat, his irritation rising, though his focus never wavered from the edge of his switchblade.

Belch was about to rag on him for putting his feet up on the dash, but he thought better of it and kept to himself, using his forearm to wipe away the beads of sweat dripping down his face.

Vic tensed up instantly, getting antsy for the simple reason that Henry's idea of "doing something" never meant anything good.

He still had flashbacks to the rock fight, which had started as a simple "Let's go blow some firecrackers up that black kid's ass" and ended with Henry flat on the dirt with a broken nose and a bruise the size of a battleship.

Those little shits made Henry's blood boil if anyone so much as breathed a word about them around him, but sometimes you just had to risk it for a good laugh... right?

You blew out a cloud of smoke, chuckling a bit before you spoke.

“I still remember when Belch wiped out right on top of the loudmouth over by the Tracker Brothers' field.” You smirked, taking another drag from your cigarette. Next to you, Vic couldn't help but laugh along, shaking his head. Henry cracked a few light chuckles, nodding as he finally tore his eyes away from his switchblade for a second.

“That fat ass of Belch's could barely move, and when he finally did, it was just to land butt-first right on the loudmouth.” Henry started laughing out louder, especially remembering how when Belch got up, he'd snapped a couple of the kid's fingers in the process.

Belch just offered a weak smile, turning a bit red at the memory.

“Oh! Oh! And don’t forget the burp of the century he let rip when he stood up. That hypochondriac kid's face was priceless!” you said, slapping your palm against your thigh, which was clad in tight black drainpipe jeans and high boots.

Henry and Vic busted out laughing, ragging on Belch right then and there for being a total pig most of the time.

“Go to hell, all three of you.” Belch finally said, grabbing a rag to wipe the grease off his hands. We couldn’t help but laugh even harder at that.

♡

♡

I hope y'all enjoy this little scenario and tysm for being patient

˙ . ꒷🍰 . 𖦹˙— ʙᴏᴡᴇʀ'ꜱ ɢᴀɴɢ x ʙᴜʟʟʏꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

CW: Severe bullying, physical violence, strong language, severe harassment, Reader with mean girl personality, Queen-Bee dynamics.

(Short scenario but i think i will do more abt this topic...)

You stared at your reflection in the girls' bathroom mirror, slicking on a coat of strawberry lip balm while admiring how good it felt to be a total bitch. Your 'friends', if you could even call them that, since they acted like desperate puppies begging for your approval, and God, you loved it were huddled next to you, pretending to check their own hair but constantly stealing side-glances.

They envied your beauty, suffocating their own jealousy under a layer of cowardly, complicit smiles

You started twisting the cap back onto the small balm, catching one of them out of the corner of your eye.

She was the girl brought in to sub for one of your regulars who’d been out sick.

You openly, shamelessly sized up her outfit, and you immediately noticed how she tensed up under your gaze while you kept your chin tilted high, radiating absolute superiority.

You flashed her a sweet, venomous smile just before you began to tear her apart, piece by piece

"That sweater looks sweet." You offered a closed-mouth angelic smile. "Where did you buy it?" You feigned astonishment as you stared at the hideous sweater stepping closer to her.

"My mom buy it for me..." she said, visibly happy and blushing at having your undivided attention on her, while the other girls stood watching expectantly, exchanging complicit glances that showed their annoyance at having your attention taken away.

"How sweet." you sentenced with a fake smile as you walked alongside her, while making a silent gesture behind her back for two of your girls to grab her

She couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp of surprise as she felt foreign hands tightly pinning her arms, leaving her completely immobilized. You stood right in front of the girl, looking down at her with pure disdain. There was no apparent reason for doing what you were about to do to her but you enjoyed it more than anyone. You glanced over at your clique and motioned for one of them to come closer, whispering something in her ear that remained a complete murmur to the rest.

The blonde girl rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a pair of school scissors, a malicious smirk blooming on her rosy cheeks as she closed in dangerously on the girl.

You just watched, chin tilted high, radiating an aura of pure wickedness.

You smiled and dropped a few final words before stepping out of the bathroom to keep your hands clean.

Walking a few paces away from the restroom, you headed toward your locker. You opened the metal door delicately, catching your reflection in the small mirror attached to it, and fixed your hair, noticing in the background of that very mirror how that gang of misfits was watching you, like wolves eyeing a flock

You slowly closed your locker door before heading to your classroom.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!

"What a stuck-up bitch" Belch muttered with obvious disgust, watching you walk smoothly toward your classroom. Henry stared intently at your every step, as if he were looking for something in you

Victor tried his best not to look at you; there was something about you that captivated him, but also something that repelled him. He figured it was because Patrick never took his eyes off you.

"I don't think she's a stuck-up bitch" Patrick said for the first time all morning, his eyes locked onto the bounce of your hair with a sick fixation. "She's like that Elvis song" He murmured to no one in particular. Henry, visibly annoyed, began to furrow his brow.

"We'll see how long her little act lasts" he said with a malicious smirk, crossing his arms over his chest with obvious satisfaction. He was imagining all sorts of twisted ways to make you stop being such a stuck-up bitch.

his father had taught him well how to break girls of that act, and he wouldn't hesitate to put it to the test.

I'm back, i swear it's true this time fellas 😭

(Thank u for the 140 followers and the 1000 likes, i really love y'all)

TW: Disturbing content and a little smut.

🎬Patrick is the type of guy who when he bites his nails, doesn't spit them out; he swallows them or uses them as weapons against the flies he collects inside his pencil case.

🎬He has zero sense of personal hygiene. Once while crashing with the Bowers gang, they criticized him for smelling very bad (you can imagine how bad his scent was in a group of guys who have zero knowledge of the term daily shower) Henry threw a face of total disgust at him while Victor just let out a "Jezz" while his fingers pressed his nostrils and his free hand fanned the air.

🎬He tends to create very uncomfortable moments with his laugh. He is someone with a very strange laugh, and not in the funny sense but in the weird one.

🎬His mother forces him to pray every night before bed. The poor woman thinks that with the grace of some God she will be able to cure her "sick" son. He doesn't dislike it, really, nor does he care. He only gets irritated by the fact that his mother enters his room.

🎬He is prone to watching strange and disturbing things on VHS tapes that he rents illegally. He is capable of getting hard just by imagining you as the girl in the tape and him as the one who hurts you.

🎬He has a strange fixation with the movie Pet Sematary; he likes to watch and replay the scene when Church dies so he can touch himself (especially when he shows signs of rot)

🎬If he had a fixation on you, he would never leave you alone for a single moment, he doesn't know how to approach without being a total idiot or a pervert, he is incapable of saying anything "normal". He doesn't know personal space, he would be constantly fucking with you to get your attention in twisted ways, possible threats as well.

🎬He likes to steal your pencils and snoop through your backpack, he wants to have your belongings to feel like a part of you belongs to him.

🎬He isn't someone with any sense of shame; he wouldn't have any problem approaching you, much less with being handsy.

🎬He likes to play the part of the good boy with his mother; he isn't the most obedient son, but he isn't one to cause her trouble. Since Avery's death, his father has remained distant from him, but Patrick always plays his cards as the good, quiet boy of the house.

🎬He doesn't like being with the gang in general; he just observes and joins the violence when it actually looks fun to mess with people and give them a hard time. He knows Victor doesn't like his presence, and he uses that to make him uncomfortable by staring at him while rolling a fly carcass between his fingers.

🎬He doesn't understand the concept of softness; he just does things his way and according to his own needs. It’s possible he’d also be unfaithful and not feel guilty about it, since he doesn't believe anyone is real enough to ground an emotional bond (he doesn't know what that is, anyway).

🎬He isn't someone with refined tastes; he would look for someone just interesting enough (at least within his own head) and fuck with them until he gets what he wants.

🎬He will follow you home so he can see which routes you take without you noticing. He collects very personal things of yours.

🎬If you were to be intimate with him, it is likely you would be recorded for his personal use at a later time (he would never tell you about the tapes, and it is possible he would show them to the others).

Helloo! i know it's been a while but here i am lol, i will upload some headcanons and scenarios you guys send me, i promise!

Bowers Gang

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Henry Bowers

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Patrick Hockstetter

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Victor Criss

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"M'sorry," he had whispered into your skin, the radio playing some sappy song even at the late hour. And you had just shushed him softly, kissing the top of his head as your hands kept working against his skin. He hasn't said much else other than apologies since he got here, sorry about waking you, being an inconvenience, and every time you had stopped him gently. A soft act he didn't think he wouldve appreciated so much.

His hands are shaky as the wrap around your waist, after you've finished with the cream, and you pulling the blanket over the both of you, him shoving a stuffed animal off the bed abit too harshly, in which you laugh, "who needs bears when your here?" You had whispered, peppering soft kisses along his face, before you had fallen asleep in each others grasp.

Waking up in the morning with him still at your side, realizing the reason you had woken up was your father in the doorway, you had told them about his situation not long ago, needing advice on how to help.

Cute scenario...

A little short but i will upload more 😈

Henry bowers x reader (smut) ꒰🚜ᵕ⁠˖🌾

Cw:Blowjob, little violence and hair pulling (maybe acurrate?)

The school day had ended just like any other day in this shithole of a town. You were walking home when you were suddenly yanked into Henry's father's Ford truck. You gasped as you felt the hard mattress slam against the sides of your arms. You looked up and saw Henry starting the Ford back up to begin driving. You stared at him, completely stunned. he wasn't with his friends, and he had a vein pulsing firmly against his temple

His palms squeezed the steering wheel with white knuckled force as he slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a dead stop. His fist clamped shut around your scalp, yanking you down directly toward his crotch. Henry was breathing heavily, clumsily undoing his zipper, his hand fumbling over his rock hard erection already agonizingly close to your face

His palms let go of your hair and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled force. His entire body tensed as he felt people passing by oblivious to what was happening inside the Ford

Henry glanced at you sideways without saying a single word, as if he expected you to know exactly what he wanted by some kind of dark magic. Even though it was painfully obvious, it was almost funny

But it was never a good idea to mock Henry Bowers.

Your lips slowly enveloped his erection to the base, your tongue slicking every inch

His muscles relaxed for a fraction of a second before he let out a sigh that made every part of your body shiver. You continued your work without much trouble until you heard people approaching again

Henry gripped your hair and shoved your head down, choking you with his already mistreated erection. He let out a guttural growl before leaning forward, partially shielding the view of your face buried in his crotch

Your nails dug into his thighs, which, unbeknownst to you, bore deep scars courtesy of Butch Bowers. Henry gasped in pain before his cock twitched in your mouth, a sign of involuntary pleasure. You sucked a bit harder just before he hit his limit.

"Fuck!" he choked out a groan as his body went through mini-spasms, sighing in relief while letting his head fall back against the seat.

"You should do that more often" he said, exhaling with a smirk that was pure mischief and malice before grabbing your face and awkwardly kissing your lips with violence.

HELLOOOO! i hope y'all enjoy this little scenario, i will upload soon i promise!

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