~First fan fic, lets goooo. Tell me if somethings off or my spelling needs to be changed, I crave feedback and validation. Have fun reading~ A/N
"I would never t-t-trick you, Y/n," His voice was tinted with disgust, possibly with hurt after what I had said to him.
"Goddammit, p-put down the gu-un for me?" He pleaded, neck twitching to the left, arms and hands shaking in the air. "I love you-"
"No. No, you manipulated me. You took advantage of me when I was at my weakest," It was my turn to look disgusted. I played with the safety catch, debating whether or not I should turn it off and shoot him.
"I loved you, I wanted to marry you," I laughed out, "and then I see your mugshot on that damn TV."
I tried to look into his hazel eyes, but they were covered by those stupid fucking orange goggles. He looked better without them, or his mask. He said he wore them because he was self conciseness of his looks, but now that I know what he's done, I don't think I believe him anymore.
He lowered his arms and tried to step closer, freezing when he heard a click. "Y/n-"
"Don't move any fucking closer," I point the gun at his head, finger already on the trigger. I stepped back, eyeing the hatchets that hung on his belt. I knew better than to turn away from a serial killer, but I could barely think, mind racing with the crimes he's done.
When I did I saw something that almost made my heart stop. More like someone, I guess.
"Sorry princess, nothing personal." And that was the last thing I saw before I felt like I got hit with a brick and passed out.
========================================
"Damn Toby, you really got a good one."
"I'm aware, Brian."
"Holy shit, she looks good in those jeans."
"Tim, I will f-fucking decapitate you and feed y-y-your flesh to Seedeater."
Summary: You and dabi are like magnets that like to stay far away from each other, except for when atoms align just right
Warnings: smoking, death threats
A/N: hiii đ€đ€
Y/N ended up staying the night at Patrickâs, mostly because he didnât want to tell her anything and because she didnât trust him enough to be alone. She looked at the clock, and it was just passed midnight. Sighing, she looked over at Patrick, who was drooling and hugging a stained pillow. She tilted her head, questioning the white stain near his chin. Y/N started playing with her fingers, picking at her nails. She was lost in her thoughts, up until Patrick started twitching.
âPatrick?â She whispered, sitting up straighter to watch him closer. Patrick started whining, his face pulling into a deep frown. He started muttering ânoâ and âstopâ, and Y/N started to worry more. She tried to shake him awake, but he wouldnât budge.
When Patrick eventually woke up, he was shaking and saying he didnât want to go back to sleep, pleading that she stayed up with him. Y/N had never seen him like this, ever, and was deeply concerned. He kept saying how it was real. How all of it was.
She was shocked by this and kept asking what he meant, to which he couldnât respond. Patrick said how he didnât want to speak its name, how it would find him if he did. Y/N was very confused, and she didnât know what to do. He was holding onto her waist as she played with his hair, hoping it was calming him down enough. She noticed he fell back asleep, and she used the blanket to replace her body as she stood up off the bed. Y/N started to make her way to his landline, dialing a number and watching Patrick while she waited.
âHuh?â A tired voice said, sounding like they just woke up.Â
âHey, Nicole. Sorry, did I wake you up?â She asked, biting her lip. Y/N didnât know why she was so scared, she talked to her friend many times about Patrick.Â
âNah, youâre good. I was just watching The Outsiders, getting wet over Ponyboy and all that. Whatâdâja need?â Y/N shook her head at Nicoleâs response, laughing lightly.Â
âI found Patrick. He was running around in the sewage system. I donât know what happened, but whatever it was, it scared him. Badly. Heâs having nightmares now.â Y/N told Nicole, fiddling with the phone wire.Â
âDamn, that sounds awful,â Nicole yawned, smacking her lips obnoxiously. âWhatâs his nightmare about?â
âI donât know, obviously something bad. He mumbled something about a clown though, and a balloon?â Y/N waited for Nicoleâs response, but the other end was silent. âNicole?â
âWhat? Oh, yeah. So a clown, huh? Did he, I donât know, happen to give a description? Or like, say what it looked like?â Nicole asked, clearing her throat after.Â
âNo, he didnât. Why? Do you know something?âÂ
âNo! Nope, noda. No, I uh, I do not. Was just curious, thatâs all. Look, I love our late night chit-chats, but Iâve gotta be somewhere tomorrow. So, uh. Night!â And with that Nicole hung up.
Y/N got even more confused. Why was Nicole acting this way? Maybe she knew something Y/N didnât. It didnât matter now, anyway. Itâll be her problem in the morning. For now, Y/N just needs a good nightâs rest.Â
Hey! Mind doing a NSFW and SFW alphabet for Patrick (it) ???đ
Kind of self explanatory, I had fun writing this one! Here's the NSWF one too, "Patrick Hockstetter NSFW Alphabet"
Off to it!
A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Not at all. Patrick will not act like your boyfriend, or like you two are in a romantic relationship. That man is there for sex and sex only, he is not going to hug you or have any hand holding. The most heâll do is stop the rest of the Bowerâs Gang or anyone else from bullying you, but only because theyâre scared of him and because he gets jealous when other people make you cry instead of him.
B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)
As a âbest friendâ, Patrick wouldnât be the best. Heâd influence you to do things your parents donât want you to, and heâs definitely the peer pressure kid that school assemblies warn you about. Itâd probably start with him forcing you to give him test answers, and then he'd just keep asking for homework answers, and then the teachers would see how âwellâ you two work together, and theyâd pair you up as project partners because no one else can handle Patrick. So, it starts off as unfortunate and unwilling get togethers, and then itâd progress from there.
C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
No. Absolutely not. Patrick would not be serious or actually like cuddles. If you were really upset at him over something (forcing you to have sex), heâd throw his arms around you and wouldnât let you go until you âforgiveâ him. But he would not cuddle you.
D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
I donât think Patrick would like to settle down. Heâd get bored of you, thereâs no doubting it. When you go to college, heâd probably forget about you until one of you comes back years later, and then your spark flares up again and you suddenly feel like a teenager again. Heâs awful at cooking and cleaning, and if he did settle down, heâd expect you to do it all.Â
E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Since you arenât technically dating, heâd just go find another town girl to sleep with. But if itâs something even a little serious, heâd tell you heâs bored and just get up and leave.Â
F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Again, Patrick would not be one to settle down and marry you. Heâd probably think marriage is stupid, to be honest. Why would he be stuck with just one person for the rest of his life when he could have anyone he wanted?
G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Patrick is not a gentle lover. Heâs a rough guy, and he doesnât really have emotions. You know, solipsism will do that to you. He wouldnât really care that much about you, youâre just a toy to get his emotions out on.Â
H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)
No, he doesnât. Patrick would hug you from behind while youâre cooking or something, but only to show you that heâs hard or that he wants something from you.Â
I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
I donât think heâd really say âI love youâ, mostly because, again, solipsism. But also because, again, he doesnât really care that much about you.
J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)
Very jealous. Always. Heâd probably hurt whoever you showed even the slightest bit of affection to, and make you make it up to him. Patrick gets angry and jealous quickly, so expect a long night of crying, screaming, and sex.Â
K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Rough and painful. Patrick would kiss you anywhere he could, and anywhere he can leave a mark. He bites too, so beware. Heâs fine with just getting kissed on the lips, but if you kiss the tip of his dick like his lips, heâs ecstatic.
L= Little ones (How are they around children?)
Terrible. We have evidence with Avery. Do not have children with Patrick Hockstetter.
M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Every now and then heâll be there in your bed with you. Itâs the only time he looks even remotely peaceful, and the only time you can look at him and enjoy his looks. But, it doesnât last long, because soon his eyes are opening and his teeth are on your neck.
N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Long and mixed with pleasure and pain. Sometimes you guys sneak out and go smoke somewhere, or go to a party, but when youâre at your house and heâs sleeping over? You canât move when you wake up.
O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)
He doesnât really open up, like at all. If youâre lucky, heâll let one or two things slip while heâs high or drunk. But other than that, he keeps to himself. He doesnât think youâre worthy for him to tell you stuff, since heâs the only one in the world. Plus, shouldnât you know already? The only reason you exist is to please him, anyway, right?
P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)
Very easily. Like, drop a beer can while giving it to him and heâs taking you to a bathroom or somewhere private to yell and âpunishâ you. Patrick hates when you mess things up, and youâre always walking on eggshells around him.
Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)
He literally wouldnât remember a thing about you. Maybe some stuff about what you wear and what your schedule is, and maybe who your friends are. But other than that, he doesnât care at all.Â
R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)
When he first saw you cry. He loved it, and not like when the other girls would cry. Whether youâre an ugly crier or a pretty one, Patrick loves watching your mascara run down your face and see you get all red and whiny.Â
S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)
Heâs protective to the point where he has a hand on your waist at all times if youâre both in public together, but only because he doesnât want any other guys to think youâre on the market. Youâre his property and his only, only he can hurt you and make you feel like shit. Heâd get the gang to gang up on someone if they tried to do something to you, but then heâd turn around and blame you for being so stupid for letting it happen, and for thinking that someone could hurt you more than he could. Then heâs proving you wrong and making sure you remember who can really hurt you.
T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
No effort at all. Donât expect anything from him. Ever.
U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Literally everything. His poor hygiene, the fact that he forces you to have sex when you donât want it, the fridge, his smoking and drinking habits, the genuine abuse and manipulation you go through. The list doesnât end.
V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? What about yours?)
Not very. Again, poor hygiene. He doesnât think anyoneâs real, so obviously he doesnât think beauty standards apply to him. Even though, somehow, he still manages to look good. For you, it definitely depends on how you think about him. He could be a person who also doesnât believe in beauty standards, and would date anyone or anything, but he could also be the worst and most sexist prick about how you look. It all depends on how you view him.
W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Definitely not. He wouldnât let you leave him, so donât even think about trying. And since you canât leave, why would he feel incomplete? But if he left you, then he doesnât give two fucks about you anymore. Fat chance heâs already moving on to the next town slut because heâs bored.
X= Xtra )A random headcanon for them)
He has bought you jewelry with his initials engraved on the insides that you donât notice, and he gets hard when he sees you wearing them because to him itâs like showing youâre his property. You think heâs just doing something nice, a shocker, but really, heâs doing it because a necklace is the closest thing to a collar with his name on it that he can get you to wear in public.
Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)
I donât really know about this one. I never really thought of this, because I donât think thereâs much he wouldnât like or that he would really care about.
Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?
He snores, has wet dreams of you, moves around all the time, and sleep talks. One time, you both had sex, and halfway through you realized he was still asleep.Â
Hey,
I have another question for you đ
Could you imagine writing for House of the Dragon? If youâve watched it!
Have a good day/nightđ«¶
Your reader â€ïž
Heyy, I might have another answer for you đ
I haven't watched House of the Dragon, nor the Game of Thrones series, but if I ever did watch them, I would absolutely write for them! It might be the next show I watch, but I already have so many shows, so it might be a while before I get to them!
Have a good day/night đ«¶
Summary (Smut): Y/N and Patrick are placed as partners on their senior camp trip for Derry high-school. Regrets are thought after Patrick convinced her to place their tent further away from the others, and when their fans die in the middle of the night in the awful Derry heat.
Warnings: Vulgar language, dubious consent, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, camping, in a tent. Patrick and Reader are 18 and seniors!
A/N: Sorry guys, motivation kind of went out the window for my WIP's and I can't think when I try to write them, so here's this apology while I wait for my writer's block to end!
It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a âgoing awayâ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each otherâs distaste.
There was an odd amount of people on the trip, and when Y/N was told that the other student was going to join her group of three and that sheâd have to be with Patrick, she groaned.
â
âDo I have to? What have I done to deserve this?â She begged her councilor to change the groups.
âMs. L/N, youâre the perfect student, and he isnât. Weâre hoping that maybe while on this trip, you can influence him in some kind of way. Please, you can still hang out with your past group, you just need to stick with him as well.â Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes.Â
All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasnât the greatest student, so they always paired her and him together when they could. Projects and presentations, hell, they even made her his tutor. She hated how much time out of her life he took up, and he hated how much of his she took up.
âFucking, fine. Whatever.â Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.
She heard a faint âlanguageâ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.
âSo, weâre buddies again. Huh, toots?â Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus.Â
âGuess so,â Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname he gave her when they met, and pulled his hand that was slowly moving to her ass off of her. âDonât fuck this trip up.âÂ
âIâll think about it.â
â
Patrick did not, in fact, think about it.
He somehow convinced her to set up their tent further away from the others, and the fans that they were given on the bus had died. They were both sweating and kicked off their blankets, and now they laid on their sleeping bags.Â
âI hate you.â Y/N panted, using the safety folder as a fan. She was wearing a dark green tank top and sweatpants on, and she was sweltering.Â
âMutual feelings.â Patrick responded, laying on his back with his arms behind his head. He took his shirt off and was wearing his black boxers, even though Y/N complained about him taking off his pants.
She knew she couldnât say much, though, having taken off her bra earlier in the night because of how uncomfortable it was. She also knew that he was staring at her breasts half the time, but she didnât bring it up. Heâd do it if she had a sweater on, too.
Y/N stopped fanning herself for a moment and stared at the wall of the tent in front of her, and Patrick looked over at her.
âWhat?â
âDonât get any ideas.â She set down the folder and stood up as he stared at her, watching her every movement.
She glanced at him and caught his eyes before looking away quickly and reaching her fingers into her waistband. Pulling off her pants, she stood there in her black lace panties, bare to Patrickâs eyes.
âThought you were gonna get some?â Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.
âYeah, from Taylor.â She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.
Sheâll admit, she was hoping that sheâd end up getting a tent with Taylor because she thought he was hot, but now she was stuck with Patrick. Who was kind of attractive.
But also really attractive.
Patrick hummed and watched her again before a large grin grew on his face. He sat up from his sleeping bag and crawled over to her when she closed her eyes, and he covered her mouth with his hand when she yelped in surprise.Â
âPatrick, what the fuck!â She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.
âShut up and enjoy this.â He sneered and slid his hands up and down her body.
Y/N gasped and grabbed his shoulders when his hands cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. Sheâd had sex before, but they were all asses who never thought of foreplay, so naturally, she was sensitive.
He smiled at her reactions and continued to pinch them, leaning in to kiss her neck when she threw her head back and moaned. He kissed and nipped all over her neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips touched.
She bucked her hips up into his when he found her sweet spot, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair while he sucked at it.
âPatrick, stop. We shouldnât be doing this.â Y/N panted heavily. She didnât want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.
They shouldnât be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didnât care.
All he did was move further down her neck and kiss her collarbone before lifting her shirt over her breasts and attaching his lips to them.
She moaned, loudly, and reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Patrick laughed and sucked all over her smooth skin, his hands now moving down her hips, to the waistband of her underwear.
âFuck, stop. We canât do this.â Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didnât do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.
She knew he wouldnât listen, though, so she didnât know why she was even trying.
His hands ghosted over her underwear to the inside of her thighs, and he rubbed the soft flesh. He pinched her and she whined, him smiling once again.Â
Patrick slowly moved his hand up to where she wanted him most, and he ran a finger up her groin as she thrusted her hips towards it.
âPatrick, please.â Y/N didnât even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didnât, it didnât matter to her anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling good.
His fingers moved her underwear to the side and he ran a finger through her folds once again, detaching himself from her nipple.
He stared her in the eyes and brought the finger to his lips, sucking off the mess she left on them.Â
âPatrick, please!â
His fingers moved skillfully and he kissed her, his middle finger plunging into her entrance all the way to his knuckle. She moaned loudly once again, but this time his mouth caught it. He stretched her out, and when he thought she was ready, he put his index finger in with it.
Y/N moved her hips with his fingers, trying to match the speed he was going at. It didnât help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldnât, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.
âPlease, Patrick,â She whimpered, ââM so close!â
He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. âGo ahead.â
She cried out and clenched around his fingers, her hips finally being able to match his speed and rhythm. He let her ride out her high before he took his fingers away and moved down, licking up what was left on his fingers and her cunt.
When he was done, he sucked at her clit harshly, and she cursed out and tugged his hair away from her.
He sat up and wiped away what was on his chin, sucked at her sternum until he left a hickey, and pulled her shirt down.
Patrick palmed at his boxers and then kissed her before rolling over next to her, reassuming his position with his arm behind his head.Â
âWhen I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.â He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.
âYeah. Mâkay, I guess.â
Summary: He might hate you, he might not ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ All you know is that you are on cloud 9
Warnings: Vulgar language, weed
A/N: This was so late, sorry guys đ
Y/N L/N and Patrick Hockstetter had been friends since they were in kindergarten. Their friendship began the day he gave her a pencil bag filled with dead flies in Mrs. Smithâs class.
He had always enjoyed teasing Y/N, since the minute they met. Yet for some odd reason, she had always tried to befriend him. Nobody understood why, granted he always pulled on her pigtails, but she never minded it.Â
They were Derryâs dynamic duo, terrifying twins, even. They were always in the same location. If Patrick was there, Y/N was dragging him along and arguing with him about something stupid. If Y/N was there, Patrick was right next to her, giggling at others' misfortune around them.
They were inseparable. They had a bond no one could ever achieve with them. Nobody understood it, they always fought, bickered, even fist-fought. But they always remained together, no matter how many sucker punches they threw at each other.
A while after Patrick started screwing with her and giving her dead bugs, and sometimes rodents, she started giving him trinkets too. Except, socially accepted things, like jewelry.
The first ever piece of jewelry she gave him was a ring when they were in the second grade; it was purple and silver. She got it for a dime at one of those cheap candy and toy machines while leaving a grocery store with her mother.
She assumed he liked it because she never saw him take it off, and when he outgrew it he put it on a necklace. He always denied liking it though, giving excuses that she was just so annoying that he didnât want to hear her complain about him not wearing it.
Y/N knew better, and always smiled when she saw it around his neck.
That was until now. Y/N paced around her room in a state of panic, gnawing at her fingernails and being lost in her thoughts. Itâd been a week and three days since anybody had seen Patrick, and she was a nervous wreck.
Usually, this wouldnât have made her so scared, Patrick could take care of himself, hell heâd gone four days without telling anyone where he went. But more kidnappings and murders of children and teens around town made her worry.
Y/N had asked his mom if he had gotten home on Tuesday night after hanging out with her at the barrens, but Patrickâs mom said she hadnât seen him since he left with her.
 âOh my fucking God,â She whispered to herself, stopping her feet from the circle she was walking in, âJesus Christ, heâs one of the missing kids.âÂ
The rest of the Bowers gang had stopped looking for him after the second day; they knew heâd come back with only a few scratches. But Y/N had a gut feeling she couldnât ignore. She fiddled with one of the rings he had given her, biting her lip as she looked at her door.
Y/N cursed, grabbed a flashlight, and put on her shoes. As she was running down her stairs, she almost tripped when she saw what seemed to be Patrick going into her kitchen.
âPatrick?â Her voice was shaky and hopeful, but when she entered the room it was empty. Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair and making her way out of her front door. She jogged on the path she and Patrick would usually walk on when they were bored.Â
Theyâd talk about stupid shit, never sticking to one topic for a conversation. Then theyâd make it to the park and laugh at the kids falling, especially when one of the two was upset over something. She always enjoyed seeing his eyes light up when one of them would cry, no matter how odd it seemed.
His eyes would crinkle, sometimes small tears would form, heâd show off his teeth, his lips would tighten. His lips looked soft, yet theyâd be chapped and dried over all the time. Y/N would ask Patrick if he wanted some when sheâd apply her chapstick, but heâd always tell her no. Sometimes Y/N would catch him staring at her lips a little too long when sheâd apply it, and sheâd wonder if he actually really wanted some-
A screech from two of the swings on the swingset pulled her away from her thoughts, and she stopped to stare at the playground. Her and Patrick used to sit on the swings all day long after school when they were kids, and theyâd compete to see who could get the highest.
Y/NÂ pointed her flashlight at them and watched the two swings slowly go back and forth, a red balloon tied to the one Patrick would always sit on.Â
She tilted her head at it, a confused look on her face. She couldâve sworn sheâd seen that balloon before. Y/N then shook her head, realizing she was getting off track.Â
âNo, he wouldnât be here. Iâd have found him already.â She whispered to herself and looked sideways to the path she was following, then grimaced. âOr a cop wouldâveâŠâ
Y/N continued on the path, putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket she was wearing. She almost tripped over a rock and bit her lip in frustration, cursing and kicking it against a tree.
When she did, she smiled when she saw which tree it was. Patrick and her had marked it up with profanity when they were younger, and they used it as a guide to get to the barrens.
She stood by one of the sewage tunnels, peering into it and sighing. She hated the smell and what sheâd find in there, but Patrick always grabbed her wrist and dragged her into it anyway.
Theyâd smoke and get high in there, every now and then stealing a bottle of whiskey from the store and drinking together. Not caring that her shoes were getting soaked in the gunk water, Y/N walked inside.Â
âPatrick!â She called out, stepping in further and further. It took about twelve minutes of yelling before she thought sheâd heard him.
It very well couldâve been desperation and her brain playing tricks on her, but she cried out again. She murmured a small 'dammit', and started to turn around until she heard him clearly.
âNessie?â She heard him call, and she whipped her head around and ran further.
There he was, covered in blood, dirt, and only god knows what else.Â
âJesus fucking Christ Patrick!â She sharply cried, running over to him. âThe hell are you doing here?! Donât ever run away like that again-â
Patrick panicked and shushed her, putting his hand over her mouth and looking behind him in a fear sheâd never seen before.Â
âWe need to get the fuck out of here. Right now,â He hissed quietly, taking his hand off of her.
âWhereâs the damn exit?â She looked at him weirdly and was going to ask him what was wrong but decided against it, taking his hand and leading him out.
 The clock said 8:46 pm as Y/N sat on Patrick's bed, playing with a loose string on his black blanket. She chewed on her lip, and let go of the string, standing up to walk out of his room and to the linen closet in his hallway.
After grabbing the safety kit she forced him to keep when he first got hurt with her, she sat it on his bed and opened it, laying out all the supplies she would need to fix Patrick up.
She heard the pipes creak when Patrick turned off the water, and a while later walked out with a towel around his waist. She watched him as he grabbed clothes from his dresser, and he looked at her, and then the kit on the bed.
âFuck. No.â
--
She eventually got him to sit on the bed, even though he whined and groaned about it. He huffed when she gave him a hair tie, and he roughly took it from her hand as he put his hair up in a bun so she could have access to his neck.Â
âYou know if you wanted me to eat you out, you couldâve asked.â He snickered, smirking at her as she flashed him a look of disgust.
âIf I wanted to fuck you, Iâd have done it already.â Tightly smiling, she uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and put it on a cotton ball. Y/N started to dab it on his cuts, sticking her tongue out in focus.
Patrick stared at her, a blank look on his face. He didnât even notice that she was done until she ripped open a pack of gauges and placed one on a stitched-up cut he got in the sewer.Â
âWhen the hell didâja do that?â His eyebrows furrowed, his hand pushing away the cotton pad and inspecting the stitched cut.
âWhen you were fantasizing about your porn stash,â She scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to put the gauge back on his cut. She taped it up, and jokingly slapped it. âDoctor Miller is finished with her work. How satisfied are you with my service?âÂ
âIâd be much happier with a blow job, if it isnât too unprofessional?â Patrick leaned his head to the side, a hopeful smile on his face.Â
âIâd rather kill myself-â Y/N stood up, placing all of the supplies back into the kit and starting her walk to the closet.
âYou should get dressed, and then I wanna talk.â He sighed, grabbed the pile of clothes he had set out earlier, and went back into his bathroom to change.
When Patrick walked out in a pair of skinny jeans and no shirt, he walked over to the pile of his original clothes and pulled out the chain with his ring on it from a pocket of pants. He clasped it on and sat down on the edge of his bed, dramatically flopping on his back to look at Y/N. She was sitting at the bedâs headboard, picking at her nails.Â
âSo,â She refused to look at his eyes, already knowing that they were filled with either frustration or anger. âWhat the hell happened to you back there?â
-Grand Masterlist- (In Progress)
*-Character Requests-*
-Series-
"Inseparable" Patrick Hockstetter/Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven
"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Ticci Toby/Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
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*The Walking Dead*
"Running from Nightmares" n. smith Oneshot
"His Girls" n. smith Oneshot
"Accidents Happen" n. smith/simon Oneshot
"Boo Boos" simon Oneshot
*House MD*
"Rsv" g. house/j. wilson Oneshot
"Birthday" a. cameron Oneshot
*IT (2017-2019)*
"Hot, Cheating Bastard" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"Broken A/C" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"Prom Gone Wrong" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"Sweltering" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"The Wrong Kind of Jealousy" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"NSFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"SFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot
"Mr. Mechanic" p. hockstetter Oneshot
*Creepypasta*
"Cheating" BEN_Drowned Oneshot
"Trigger of Love- JAWNY" t. rogers Oneshot (First Ever Post, Beware)
*MHA*
"weed or us?" "weed!" t. todoroki SMAU
"fine asf" t. todoroki SMAU
"chivalry isn't dead ig" t. todoroki SMAU
"surprise?" t. todoroki SMAU
"together đ" t. todoroki SMAU
"on the run" t. todoroki SMAU
"fuckass picture" t. todoroki SMAU
"well damn" k. bakugo SMAU
"i don't hate you" k. bakugo SMAU
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*WIP'S*
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© bked0n-lorazepam Do not repost, translate, or alter my work without permission. All rights reserved.
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I'm so sorry that I've been inactive! I've had so much school recently that I've only been able to get to the shorter fanfictions! If you requested something a little longer, just know that it's on it's way and in progress. I promise that I will get to them and that I am trying to make them the best possible!
Au revoir!
âAdmit it, you totally wanna blow me.âÂ
âI totally do not.â Y/N scoffed and adjusted her crossed arms, leaning back farther on the cold counter. It was the middle of the night and 82 degrees in Derry, and the air conditioning at her house had broken down from overuse.
Her dad, being the man he is, suggested they stayed at his friendâs house. Y/N didnât remember her name, but her father told her to call her Mrs. Hockstetter.Â
Y/Nâs only objective was to get out of her awful hot house, so she agreed and packed a bag. She packed short shorts, a couple tank tops, a sketchbook, and her homework into a bag.
She thought sheâd spend the night on Mrs. Hockstetterâs hopefully cold couch, but what her father had failed to mention was that she had a son Y/Nâs age.
She was introduced to him when she and her father got into the house, and she wasnât a big fan of his lingering gaze on her chest. She eventually stopped caring when she was greeted by the wonderful arms of air conditioning.
She had set up camp on the couch while her father and Mrs. Hockstetter talked to each other in the master bedroom, and while Patrick was up in his room doing only God knows what.
Y/N was sketching a bird in her notebook on the couch when she heard an odd thunk from the walls, and when she heard the air conditioning turn off.
Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach and shoved her face into the cushion, the immediate rush of hot air hitting her back. She threw her notebook off the couch and sat up before reaching into her bag and pulling out her short shorts and a white tank top.
She stood up and made her way to the upstairs bathroom to change when she heard noises coming from Patrickâs room. His head lights were off, but there was a small glow that emitted from underneath the door. She tilted her head and tried to be more silent as to hear what he was doing when she heard a very low and raspy âfuckâ come from him.
Realizing what he was doing, she turned around quickly and went into the bathroom, softly closing the door and shaking her head. She changed into the clothes when she realized that she had grabbed her old tank top that she wore as a kid that no longer fit her, and that she had also grown out of the shorts.
They were supposed to be shorter than most, but they definitely werenât supposed to show the underside of her ass. Y/N tried pulling them down to make them less revealing, but she gave up and accepted the fact that they rode up when she walked.Â
She left the bathroom and was going to walk down the stairs when she saw that Patrickâs door was open and that he was no longer in there. Thinking nothing of it, she went down the stairs and back into the living room when she saw him looking through her sketchbook. She froze, and he noticed she was standing in front of him and grinned.
âIâm guessing birds are your favorite animal?â Patrick mocked, flipping the book around to reveal her recent drawing.
âSet it down, Patrick.â She sighed, and let out a breath of relief when he did. What made her tense again was when he walked into the kitchen that was conjoined with the living room and opened a cupboard to grab a glass.
She watched as he turned on the sink faucet and filled the cup to the brim before he steadily walked back to her and held it out for her.
âThirsty?â He grinned, his gaze burning her as she licked her dry lips.
âA bitâŠâ Y/N admitted and grabbed the glass, confused as to why he didnât let go as well. She gasped loudly when he tilted it towards her and spilled some of it on her shirt, cursing him out as she walked into the kitchen to grab a towel.
He watched her wipe her chest off with the useless piece of fabric, and grinned even more when she realized it was doing nothing to absorb the water.Â
She didnât wear a bra as her tank top was too tight for one, and now her entire chest was revealed to a guy she barely knew at all. She groaned and threw the towel onto the counter, crossing her arms to keep at least a bit of her dignity.
She refused to look Patrick in the eyes, too embarrassed that she didnât have anything to cover up and that she let a mistake like this happen. The guy in question frowned and walked towards her, leaning on the opposite counter that she was so that they stood in front of each other.
âAw, ya shy?â He taunted, snickering at her face of disgust.Â
âNo, Iâm mortified. You just spilled water all over me and made me flash you.â She deadpanned, unimpressed with his actions.Â
âNot my fault you dressed like a whore.â Patrick only shrugged and let his eyes roam the rest of her body, from her head to her well manicured toes. âCute nipple piercings, by the way. I really like the hearts.â
âShut the fuck up.â Y/N sneered, readjusting her arms so that they covered more.
âDâya want my shirt? It might make you lessâŠcold.â He teased, watching her face turn bright red. Y/N rolled her eyes as he taunted her more and more.
That was how they got into their positions now, with her in his lap making out with him in the hot, thick aired living on the couch. His hands roamed over her torso, and hers grabbed onto the hair behind his head.
Patrick groaned when she tugged a bit too hard, and he bit her lip and grinded her hips down onto him as a response. She winced with a gasp and pulled away to catch her breath, his hands still moving her back and forth. He showed her the same devilish grin he had earlier in the night, and then the lights came on.
âPatrick!â âY/N!âÂ
âDammit!â âDad!â