Send Them In With Your Characters!!

Hi. I was wondering if you were still writing for George Foyet? If so could you possibly write about him targeting the reader but when he goes to kill her he has this odd attraction to her and takes her and they fall in love. Could be a little angsty with some reaper torture but ends in fluff

Hey babes, I'll be happy too! I'm thinking about making this one into a bit of a story, and since I write in bulk it might take a hot minute. Just know that this one is on it's way! (I'll always write for Foyet, he's so fine 🤭)

"weed or us?" "weed!" t. todoroki mha smau

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Summary: someone stole from you 🤫

Warnings: idfk some vulgar language and weed?

A/N: we're doing this ig. dabi does not know the difference between "two" and "too." you both are also flirty with each other and it will escalate as stories go on. also I made a mistake with smth twice says, don't mind it 🤗

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Hey! Mind doing a NSFW and SFW alphabet for Patrick (it) ???💗

"Patrick Hockstter SFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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Kind of self explanatory, I had fun writing this one! Here's the NSWF one too, "Patrick Hockstetter NSFW Alphabet"

Off to it!

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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 he’ll do is stop the rest of the Bower’s Gang or anyone else from bullying you, but only because they’re 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 ‘best friend’, Patrick wouldn’t be the best. He’d influence you to do things your parents don’t want you to, and he’s definitely the peer pressure kid that school assemblies warn you about. It’d 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 ‘well’ you two work together, and they’d 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 it’d 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), he’d throw his arms around you and wouldn’t let you go until you ‘forgive’ him. But he would not cuddle you.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think Patrick would like to settle down. He’d get bored of you, there’s no doubting it. When you go to college, he’d 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. He’s awful at cooking and cleaning, and if he did settle down, he’d expect you to do it all. 

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Since you aren’t technically dating, he’d just go find another town girl to sleep with. But if it’s something even a little serious, he’d tell you he’s bored and just get up and leave. 

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. He’d 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. He’s a rough guy, and he doesn’t really have emotions. You know, solipsism will do that to you. He wouldn’t really care that much about you, you’re just a toy to get his emotions out on. 

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

No, he doesn’t. Patrick would hug you from behind while you’re cooking or something, but only to show you that he’s hard or that he wants something from you. 

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I don’t think he’d really say “I love you”, mostly because, again, solipsism. But also because, again, he doesn’t really care that much about you.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Very jealous. Always. He’d 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. 

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. He’s fine with just getting kissed on the lips, but if you kiss the tip of his dick like his lips, he’s 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 he’ll be there in your bed with you. It’s the only time he looks even remotely peaceful, and the only time you can look at him and enjoy his looks. But, it doesn’t 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 you’re at your house and he’s sleeping over? You can’t 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 doesn’t really open up, like at all. If you’re lucky, he’ll let one or two things slip while he’s high or drunk. But other than that, he keeps to himself. He doesn’t think you’re worthy for him to tell you stuff, since he’s the only one in the world. Plus, shouldn’t 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 he’s taking you to a bathroom or somewhere private to yell and ‘punish’ you. Patrick hates when you mess things up, and you’re 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 wouldn’t 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 doesn’t care at all. 

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 you’re an ugly crier or a pretty one, Patrick loves watching your mascara run down your face and see you get all red and whiny. 

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

He’s protective to the point where he has a hand on your waist at all times if you’re both in public together, but only because he doesn’t want any other guys to think you’re on the market. You’re his property and his only, only he can hurt you and make you feel like shit. He’d get the gang to gang up on someone if they tried to do something to you, but then he’d 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 he’s 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. Don’t 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 don’t want it, the fridge, his smoking and drinking habits, the genuine abuse and manipulation you go through. The list doesn’t end.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? What about yours?)

Not very. Again, poor hygiene. He doesn’t think anyone’s real, so obviously he doesn’t 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 doesn’t 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 wouldn’t let you leave him, so don’t even think about trying. And since you can’t leave, why would he feel incomplete? But if he left you, then he doesn’t give two fucks about you anymore. Fat chance he’s already moving on to the next town slut because he’s bored.

X= Xtra )A random headcanon for them)

He has bought you jewelry with his initials engraved on the insides that you don’t notice, and he gets hard when he sees you wearing them because to him it’s like showing you’re his property. You think he’s just doing something nice, a shocker, but really, he’s 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 don’t really know about this one. I never really thought of this, because I don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t 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. 

"Sweltering" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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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!

Smut under the cut!!

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It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a ‘going away’ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each other’s 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 she’d have to be with Patrick, she groaned.

–

“Do I have to? What have I done to deserve this?” She begged her councilor to change the groups.

“Ms. L/N, you’re the perfect student, and he isn’t. We’re 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.” Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes. 

All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasn’t 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.

“Fucking, fine. Whatever.” Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.

She heard a faint ‘language’ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.

“So, we’re buddies again. Huh, toots?” Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus. 

“Guess so,” 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. “Don’t fuck this trip up.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

–

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. 

“I hate you.” 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. 

“Mutual feelings.” 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t bring it up. He’d 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.

“What?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” 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 Patrick’s eyes.

“Thought you were gonna get some?” Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.

“Yeah, from Taylor.” She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.

She’ll admit, she was hoping that she’d 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. 

“Patrick, what the fuck!” She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.

“Shut up and enjoy this.” 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. She’d 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.

“Patrick, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/N panted heavily. She didn’t want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.

They shouldn’t be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didn’t 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.

“Fuck, stop. We can’t do this.” Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didn’t do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.

She knew he wouldn’t listen, though, so she didn’t 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. 

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.

“Patrick, please.” Y/N didn’t even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didn’t, it didn’t 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. 

“Patrick, please!”

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 didn’t help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldn’t, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.

“Please, Patrick,” She whimpered, “‘M so close!”

He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. “Go ahead.”

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. 

“When I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.” He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. M’kay, I guess.”

LoV-

"weed or us?" "weed!" touya t. mha smau

"fine asf" touya t. mha smau

"chivalry isn't dead ig" touya t. mha smau

"surprise?" touya t. mha smau

"together 💕" touya t. mha smau

Classmates-

"well damn" katsuki b. mha smau

"i don't hate you" katsuki b. mha smau

ProHeroes-

None yet..

been a boner since I've had my first boner 🙋 (I have a coinslot)

true BONERS will reblog 👊👊👊

"Inseparable" Part One

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. Smith’s 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. 

They were Derry’s 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 didn’t 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. It’d been a week and three days since anybody had seen Patrick, and she was a nervous wreck.

Usually, this wouldn’t have made her so scared, Patrick could take care of himself, hell he’d 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 Patrick’s mom said she hadn’t seen him since he left with her.

 “Oh my fucking God,” She whispered to herself, stopping her feet from the circle she was walking in, “Jesus Christ, he’s one of the missing kids.” 

The rest of the Bowers gang had stopped looking for him after the second day; they knew he’d come back with only a few scratches. But Y/N had a gut feeling she couldn’t 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.

“Patrick?” 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. 

They’d talk about stupid shit, never sticking to one topic for a conversation. Then they’d 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, he’d show off his teeth, his lips would tighten. His lips looked soft, yet they’d be chapped and dried over all the time. Y/N would ask Patrick if he wanted some when she’d apply her chapstick, but he’d always tell her no. Sometimes Y/N would catch him staring at her lips a little too long when she’d apply it, and she’d 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 they’d compete to see who could get the highest.

Y/N  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. 

She tilted her head at it, a confused look on her face. She could’ve sworn she’d seen that balloon before. Y/N then shook her head, realizing she was getting off track. 

“No, he wouldn’t be here. I’d have found him already.” She whispered to herself and looked sideways to the path she was following, then grimaced. “Or a cop would’ve…”

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 she’d find in there, but Patrick always grabbed her wrist and dragged her into it anyway.

They’d 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. 

“Patrick!” She called out, stepping in further and further. It took about twelve minutes of yelling before she thought she’d heard him.

It very well could’ve 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.

“Nessie?” 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. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Patrick!” She sharply cried, running over to him. “The hell are you doing here?! Don’t ever run away like that again-”

Patrick panicked and shushed her, putting his hand over her mouth and looking behind him in a fear she’d never seen before. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here. Right now,” He hissed quietly, taking his hand off of her.

“Where’s the damn exit?” 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.

“Fuck. No.”

--

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. 

“You know if you wanted me to eat you out, you could’ve asked.” He snickered, smirking at her as she flashed him a look of disgust.

“If I wanted to fuck you, I’d have done it already.” 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 didn’t 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. 

“When the hell did’ja do that?” His eyebrows furrowed, his hand pushing away the cotton pad and inspecting the stitched cut.

“When you were fantasizing about your porn stash,” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to put the gauge back on his cut. She taped it up, and jokingly slapped it. “Doctor Miller is finished with her work. How satisfied are you with my service?” 

“I’d be much happier with a blow job, if it isn’t too unprofessional?” Patrick leaned his head to the side, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“I’d rather kill myself-”  Y/N stood up, placing all of the supplies back into the kit and starting her walk to the closet.

“You should get dressed, and then I wanna talk.” 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 bed’s headboard, picking at her nails. 

“So,” She refused to look at his eyes, already knowing that they were filled with either frustration or anger. “What the hell happened to you back there?”

"chivalry isn't dead ig" t. todoroki mha smau

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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 🤗🤗

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I have a question for guys. does sticking that shit in peanut butter feel good or smth? like what tf is going on with your dicks. I need an explanation to this.

"Broken A/C" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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“Admit it, you totally wanna blow me.” 

“I totally do not.” 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 friend’s house. Y/N didn’t remember her name, but her father told her to call her Mrs. Hockstetter. 

Y/N’s 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 she’d spend the night on Mrs. Hockstetter’s hopefully cold couch, but what her father had failed to mention was that she had a son Y/N’s age.

She was introduced to him when she and her father got into the house, and she wasn’t 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 Patrick’s 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 “fuck” 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 weren’t 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. 

She left the bathroom and was going to walk down the stairs when she saw that Patrick’s 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.

“I’m guessing birds are your favorite animal?” Patrick mocked, flipping the book around to reveal her recent drawing.

“Set it down, Patrick.” 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.

“Thirsty?” He grinned, his gaze burning her as she licked her dry lips.

“A bit…” Y/N admitted and grabbed the glass, confused as to why he didn’t 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. 

She didn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“Aw, ya shy?” He taunted, snickering at her face of disgust. 

“No, I’m mortified. You just spilled water all over me and made me flash you.” She deadpanned, unimpressed with his actions. 

“Not my fault you dressed like a whore.” Patrick only shrugged and let his eyes roam the rest of her body, from her head to her well manicured toes. “Cute nipple piercings, by the way. I really like the hearts.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Y/N sneered, readjusting her arms so that they covered more.

“D’ya want my shirt? It might make you less…cold.” 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.

“Patrick!” “Y/N!” 

“Dammit!” “Dad!”