"Birthday" A. Cameron Oneshot

"Hot, Cheating Bastard" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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“No, because why would Jordan ask me to the movies if he isn’t going to ask me to be his girlfriend? Like, hello? Ask me out before trying to make plans with me, you feel me?” The dark haired girl licked at her melting ice cream as she looked at the other girl next to her, scoffing and bumping her arm.

“Y/N! Are you even listening to me?” Rosita yelled, and Y/N broke out of her trance. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout Mrs. Daire’s homework.” Y/N cleared her throat and looked away from the small cafe across from the ice cream shop where her and Rosita were eating their ice cream.

It was an awful hot day in Derry, and Rosita wanted to talk about the new guy she liked while cooling off. So, naturally they decided to have ice cream outside the shop while they did.

But Y/N wasn’t very present as Rosita complained about how Jordan wasn’t doing what she had hoped he would, and Rosita started to notice.

Rosita hummed suspiciously at Y/N as she tried to look at where she was looking, and she had found Y/N’s target. She gasped and whisper-yelled her name, which caused the girl to shush her quickly.

“Him? You’re into him?” Rosita said shocked, her mouth agape and not even caring about the ice cream dripping down her hand, “Of all the hot guys in this town, you choose Patrick Hockestetter?”

“Shut up, Rosie! And no, I don’t think of him that way!” Y/N knew she was lying to her best friend, and she felt bad for it. She always told Rosita about the boys she was seeing, but Patrick wasn’t one of them she could ever say.

Patrick and Y/N had been messing around for weeks, maybe even months, but there were no feelings in any of it. It was just a bit of fooling around when one of them would get bored, nothing else. They agreed to it.

But she knew she was slipping when she was watching Patrick at the cafe with Vivien, both of them laughing and enjoying their time together. Y/N and Patrick weren’t like that, ever.

He’d slip through her bedroom window, they’d sleep together, and they’d be done. Or she’d pull him into one of the alleyways behind the school, and then that was it. 

Y/N was jealous, no matter how much she hated to admit it. It only got worse when she saw Vivien kiss some of the pasta sauce off his cheek that they were eating at the cafe, and then kiss his lips.

Even though Patrick and Y/N had done so much with each other, he’d never kissed her. Y/N pursed her lips and looked at a confused Rosita, and apologized to her. 

“I’m sorry, but I need to go.” Y/N stood up abruptly and threw her ice cream out in one of the trash cans as she made her way over to Patrick, who had been making out with Vivien in public. Outside. For everyone to see.

Which was gross, but she was too blinded by her rage to care. Stomping her way to both of them, she smiled tightly at Patrick when he noticed her presence. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! Gosh, I haven’t seen you in like, forever. Oh my goodness, we need to catch up.” Vivien spoke to her cheerily, seemingly forgetting about Patrick.

Y/N sighed at her in pretend happiness and agreed, her right hand resting on her hip as she leaned against Vivien’s chair. 

“Yes, we really do! And I hate to be such a bother, but do you mind if I steal Patrick away? I really need him for a project Mrs. Daire’s making us do with partners, and I haven’t been able to reach him all day long.” She pouted, locking eyes with Patrick in anger. He looked at her the same way, obviously upset that she had interrupted. 

“Oh, of course. Patrick, we can pick this up later.” Vivien winked at him, and stood up. She said her farewells to both of them as Patrick and Y/N just stared at each other, not paying attention to her. When Vivien was out of their sight, Y/N grabbed Patricks hand and made him stand up.

“Pay the check, and come with me. Now.”

Y/N slammed Patrick’s car door when they both got in, and then blew up at him when he drove to a secluded spot in the park. 

“What the fuck, Patrick!?” She shouted, turning to face him fully. Patrick snorted at her, bringing his hand to his face to rub at his temple. 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” He had an amused look in his eyes, as though he expected this from her. 

“What am I talking about? What was that little date there? Huh? I thought we had something going?” Y/N interrogated him, becoming more and more outraged with every second. He had laughed maniacally then, throwing his head back and resting his hand on his stomach.

“Oh fuck, are you serious right now? You actually thought we were dating? You know we aren’t, right?” He spoke when he calmed down, and then wiped away the tears that had formed when he was laughing. Tears were forming in Y/N’s eyes, though, she had obviously not found the situation as funny as he did. 

“Yeah, Patrick. I did,” She was sniffling, and holding back the waterfalls that would be dripping down her cheeks soon. She looked down to her hands and fiddled with her rings, and she scoffed out a laugh. “I guess I thought you had actual human feelings too. Or at least enough to care about me.” 

Y/N let the tears fall and she wiped them away, shaking her head and reaching to pull the handle of the car to leave. When she did though, the car locked. She looked back at Patrick and then to his hand, where it sat on the lock button.

She grit her teeth and pulled up the lock clip and tried again. He grinned as he locked it again, and the exchange went on for a bit. She cursed him out each time, and then faced him.

“Let me out, Patrick!” She yelled at him, and noticed he had moved his seat to a lying position and that he had put his right arm underneath his head while smiling at her. 

“You done with your tantrum yet, dollface?” Patrick asked her mockingly, putting emphasis on the pet name that she hated so much. She groaned, threw her hands to her face and pulled them down, and then tried the door again. His left hand was still on the button, and he moved his other hand to readjust his jeans.

“We’re both not leaving here until we both get what we want.” He said matter-of-factly, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She looked at him in disbelief, and then to his pants, where there was a noticeable tent. 

“Oh, fuck you, Hockstetter.” Y/N spat out, frustrated with him. 

“That is the plan.” He watched her eye his jeans, and they both knew she couldn’t stay upset at him for long. She rolled her eyes, and moved over her seat to sit in his lap and she started to undo his belt. 

“If it helps you feel any better, you’re the only bitch in this Godforsaken town who gives good head. I don’t let anyone else put my cock in their mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Patrick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

"Patrick Hockstetter NSFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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Kind of self explanatory, I had fun writing this one like the other! Here's the SWF one too, "Patrick Hockstetter SFW Alphabet"

Off to it!

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A= After Care (What they’re like after sex)

Patrick will not comfort you in any way, shape, or form. The best you’ll probably get is a smack to the thigh and half a glass of water if you beg nicely enough. He might clean any blood cum off of you, but it depends on his mood. If he’s somewhat happy, he’ll clean you up, but if he isn’t? He’s exiting your room through the window and leaving you on your own to sort your shit out.

B= Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

I feel like Patrick is more of a boob guy than an ass guy. It doesn’t matter how big they are, though he’d probably prefer bigger ones, he’s still gonna mark them up and bruise them. He always wants to see them, and if you’re wearing a white shirt, he’s spilling some kind of drink on you to make it see through. His favorite body part of himself is definitely his dick, there’s no questioning it.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He’s a very messy guy. He’ll unload on your chest, your face, your thighs. Anywhere he can he will. He’ll put on a condom and cum inside you sometimes, but he doesn’t want to risk you getting pregnant. He’d find a way to kill it anyway, but he doesn’t want to use all of that effort if he can just prevent it.

D= Dirty Secret (Self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Patrick doesn’t really have any secrets, but when he’s bored and you’re taking a shower or not in your room, he is grabbing your pillow and zipping down his jeans. He won’t tell you, but you’ll figure it out eventually when you keep finding odd stains on the underside of your pillow,

E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He definitely started having sex with girls when he was like, in the early years of middle school. You’re not his first time, and it’s very obvious with how much he knows his way around your body.

F= Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Anywhere he can see your face. He wants to see how fucked out you are, and he wants to see your face contort in pleasure (Mostly pain.) If it’s missionary, he’s holding your face to make you look at him. If it’s doggy style, he’s doing it in front of a mirror and roughly pulling your hair to make you watch yourself cry. The only thing that matters is if he can watch you.

G= Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Patrick will crack a crude joke every now and then, but he’ll mostly stay serious. He’ll make fun of you and make sure you know how much of a joke you look to him, but that’s about it. He’s focused on himself during sex, so sometimes he doesn’t say anything.

H= Hair (How well groomed are they? Do the carpets match the drapes?)

He has a bush. It’s said in the books how unhygienic he is, so don’t expect him to be bare and smooth. He’ll trim it back when it starts to itch and become too much, but he won’t do it for you. It’s curly and black, and he’s got the happiest of happy trails too.

I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He doesn’t give a fuck about being romantic. It’s not his thing, and never will be. He’s choking you, leaving bite marks and any kind of wound he can to make sure that you know who you belong to, and that no one can fuck you like he can. He doesn’t care how you feel during it, he’s only there to have a good time. If you don’t enjoy it, then you can suck it up and get used to it, because he’ll be coming back the same time tomorrow.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

So often that he does it when you’re at his house too. He doesn’t have shame, he doesn’t care. He jerks off to pictures of you, random magazines, your underwear. Hell, he made you jerk him off.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

So, so, many. Choking, dacryphilia, somnophilia, hair pulling, dirty talk, degradation, anything and everything. He was exposed to so much stuff when he was younger, and he’s got it all. Kinkiest guy of them all.

L= Location (Favorite places to have sex)

He likes your room the most, but he’ll have sex anywhere. Your room smells like you and feels like you, and if it’s early in the ‘relationship’ and you’re not used to him and disgusted by him, then he’ll definitely take pride in taking your safe place away from you and corrupting it. But he’d have sex with you anywhere, it doesn’t matter much to him.

M= Motivation (What turns them on?)

Seeing you in general usually does it for him. His mind starts racing when you walk by him, so it doesn’t take much. But seeing you cry? Instant boner.

N= No (Something they wouldn’t do, or turns them off)

Anything scat, piss, or vomit related. He never found the appeal, and it’s a pain to clean up anyway. But he’s up for anything else, as long as it’s not being done to him.

O= Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill)

Receiving. He loves getting head. He’s grabbing your hair, ramming into your throat like you’re nothing but a fleshlight. He doesn’t care if you can’t breathe or not, or if he’s hurting you. He doesn’t give often, but when he does, it’s like the angels are singing to you. He’s amazing at it, like God tier, but he’ll never let you cum from it. Never. He’ll get you right at that peak with his tongue, where you’re grinding against him, and then he’ll pull away. 

P= Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

As foreplay, he’ll go slow if he has the time. He’ll make you beg for more, and he’ll make it slow as possible when he wants to be a pain, but when he’s actually inside you? He’s not stopping. He’s practically bruising your cervix and hips with how fast and deep he’s going, and how hard he’s holding on to you.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often)

He’s not the biggest fan of them, but he’ll do them when he’s in a rush. Whether you two are in the bathroom at a party, on a field trip, in an empty classroom, he’ll pull his and your pants down and make it quick. He may not like them that much, but you two will have a quickie at least 8 times a week.

R= Risk (Are they okay with experimenting? Do they take risks?)

He’s up for just about anything. Public, toys, BDSM, Patrick will do anything. Unless it’s pegging or something that’s being done to him, then he’s shutting it all down.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Like a rabbit. He’ll go all night, any night. Back to back rounds, hours without end. He’ll stop when you pass out, or when he physically cannot hold himself up anymore. 

T= Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has plenty, a whole box full in his closet. He bought them for past partners, but be well assured that he’s using all of them on you. Rope, vibrators, dildos, you name it he has it. He won’t let you use any on him though. He also won’t let you have any. If he finds one while snooping around, he’s stealing it and searching for any others. You have him, you don’t need one for yourself. If you really want a toy, you can ask him nicely and he’ll use one on you.

U= Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Entirely and completely unfair. He’ll tease you in public, during class, under your dinner table while having dinner with your family, during a hang out with your friends, when you’re alone. He’s the biggest tease of them all, and he won’t let you do anything about it until he wants to.

V= Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s not the most vocal of them all, but he’s not silent either. Grunts, groans, shit like that. He’ll leave the screaming, moaning, and crying to you.

W= Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

He will force you to have sex with him when you don’t want to. Your pleasure doesn’t matter that much to him, it’s just a perk you get to have sometimes. He doesn’t care, and he’ll have sex whenever he wants with you.

X= X-Ray (What’s going on underneath their clothes?)

About 5 or 6 inches. Not the girthiest, but he’s not skinny either. It curves upwards just a bit, and he’s circumcised. Not exactly trimmed, but not exactly bushy either. He definitely has a happy trail, though.

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

So high that he’s having sex with you in the morning before school, during lunch, in your free hour, after school, right before your parents kick him out of the house, and then he’s sneaking back into your room at 2 in the morning for more. And then it’s all a repeat the next day. It’s a surprise he can still walk and that he doesn’t have erectile dysfunction yet.

Z= Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll fall to your side and he’s immediately snoring. Sometimes he’ll be awake to watch you sleep, but other than that he’s out cold. He’s also holding onto you to make sure that you can’t get up and leave, so when he wakes up, he’s moving your legs and going for another round.

I just want a man above the age of 52 to hug me and tell me that its not my fault :(

-WIP'S-

-Series-

"27" p. hockstetter

"Stabs and Stitches" g. foyet

"Radio Whispers" c. grimes

-Oneshots-

"Losses" c. peletier

"The Wrong Fruit" j. sully

"Desperate" g. house

"The Mattress" r. chase

"Can You Stay Silent?" n. smith

i need to ride his face sorry

Hii could you do a funny one between negan and Simon where they get drunk and they kiss by accident and both of them are just awkward about it but negan tells one of his jokes and they laugh it off

"Accidents Happen" n. smith Oneshot

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Summary (Fluff and Tension?): Simon and Negan get drunk after a long week of managing their communities, a tiny argument occurs, and ends with an accidental lip locking.

Warnings: Vulgar language, plenty uses of 'fuck', alcohol consumption, use of 'babe', teeny tiny spoiler but not really?

A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't get to this sooner 😭 I've had some stuff go down recently, so I've been busy with family matters and a bit of writers block for a couple of my works. But here we are, and I hope you like it! Flora doesn't exist, by the way, she's just a random name.

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It was four twenty-six in the morning, far too early for Negan and Simon to be awake. They both had a rough week trying to get Alexandria and the Hill-Top to comply with their demands, but of course, Rick likes to be rebellious.

He convinced the Hill-Top to stop giving them booze, for whatever reason that Negan didn’t care about, so the Saviors took all the alcohol from both communities as a ‘compromise.’ 

“Did he really?” Simon hiccuped from his chair in the make-shift conference room, pouring another glass of whiskey. Negan snorted and nodded his head.

“Yeah, kids got some fucking guts. I get why he’s Rick’s pride and joy, he’s pretty damn smart.” The two were talking about the countless times Carl outsmarted and talked back to Negan before there was a knock on the door. “The fuck do you want?”

“Uhm, Dr. Carson said he’s out of Aspirin. He needs someone to go on a run with him.” One of Negan’s wives slipped the door open a crack and gulped while staring into Negan’s cold eyes.

“So how about you send someone?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at his empty glass. When the woman left, he reached his hand over and grabbed Simon’s while he was drinking from it.

Simon stared at him while he chugged it down and tapped the glass on the table. Negan smiled at him and gestured towards the almost empty bottle with it.

“‘Nother hit, babe.” Simon only sighed and did what he told him to, just like always.

“I’m not your ‘babe.’” He screwed the cork back into the empty bottle and set it on the ground next to his chair, making sure not to knock it over.

Negan chuckled and lifted the glass to his chapped lips, locking eyes with Simon over the clear rim, “Right, and my name's not Negan.”

Simon scoffed and leaned back in his chair, remembering something he was supposed to tell Negan a while ago.

“Oh, you know Flora, at Hill-Top? Yeah, she uh,” He couldn’t help himself and let a laugh slip out while Negan set down the glass with a hard look in his eyes, “She thought I was gonna  fucking kill her the other day because she spilled paint on my shoes.”

“The blue paint?” Negan hummed and didn’t let his gaze leave Simon’s.

“Yeah.”

“The Hill-Top doesn’t have painters there.”

Moments of silence were shared between the men. They didn’t look away from each other, and Simon subconsciously covered the paint on his shoe with his other.

“What?”

“They don’t have painters there, Simon. They have farmers, and that’s all that those dickweeds spend their time doing. Those dumpster people, though? They’ve got painters. A lot of fucking painters. So many, in fact, that if you set foot in their community you’re bound to get some on you.”

Negan leaned forward until he was face to face with Simon, his whiskey breath flooding the man’s nostrils. “The same damn community that I told you to stop fucking seeing.”

Simon took in an angry breath, “I didn’t see them.”

“Are you lying to me, Simon?” 

“No.” His voice was just above a whisper, and another knock on the door ensued.

“Negan, we just wanted to confirm that you’re okay with us taking Dr. Carson to the hospital a couple miles away?” A man asked, looking between the two drunk men. Simon’s face was red, whether it be from anger, the alcohol, or something else, and so was Negan’s. 

“Get your tiny little ass outta here, and take the limp dick doctor with you!” Negan shouted and turned his head to look at the guy.

Spooked, the man nodded his head and quickly closed the door.

With the guy gone, Negan and Simon both turned their heads to look at each other, about to say an assumable insult at the other, when they realized they were a bit too close.

Their lips locked, and they both held still. Negan pulled away first, an unreadable expression on his face that Simon couldn’t pinpoint. He, on the other hand, had wide eyes and a light look of fear in them.

They didn’t say anything to each other, just staring at or though each other.

“This doesn’t make us gay, does it?”

“If it does, I’m totally putting you in a dress and making you one of my wives.” Negan raised his eyebrows playfully and grabbed his glass, downing the last bit of whiskey in it.

Simon snickered and shook his head, glad that his boss didn’t resent him. “How about we keep that between us?”

“Agreed. Accidents happen.” Negan groaned, stood up, and stretched. 

“Hittin’ the hay if you wanna come join me.” He winked and picked Lucille up from the table, slinging her over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m good. Don’t wanna steal you from the girls.” Simon stood up as well, grabbing the empty glass bottle. 

“Offer's always open.” Negan smirked and made his way towards the door, leaving his right-hand man in the conference room alone.

Simon hummed and listened to his footsteps weaken until he couldn’t hear Negan, set the bottle on the table, and put his hands in his pockets while staring at the door.

Was it an accident, though?

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Part One

“You’re very tense.” 

The clock ticks, it’s echo bouncing off the beige walls of the plain, boring room. The couch I sit upon is a sad brown, fitting into the rest of the sad theme.

The window sill has plants on it though, very green and happy plants, a complete contrast to the rest of the snowy atmosphere outside.

“I’ve always been tense,” I say, looking away from the window and at the woman in front of me. She smiles a pitiful smile, sympathy she obviously can’t hide flashes through her green eyes. 

“Not always. In your file it says you used to be a very calm and relaxed-”

“It also says I used to have brown hair. How times change,” I smile tightly back at her, sighing as I realize my mistake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so snippy. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

She looks at her watch, also sighing as she shuts her notepad and sets it on the coffee table between us. She runs a hand through her hair, clearing her throat as she leans her arms on her knees. 

“I know this is tough, and I know what he did to you, and I know you want to get better, but this takes time. You can’t rush healing. I’m sending you home, and I won’t add this appointment to your bill,” She shushes my protests, raising her hand and making a ‘quit it’ motion, “You need to go home and sleep. You can’t rush this process.”

My keys clank against the trinket bowl as I shrug off my winter jacket, a soft bell following suit with soft, padded thuds. I grin, taking off my boots and shaking the snow out of my dirty blonde hair. My cat, Winston, meows loudly as I crouch down to pet him. 

“You hungry, little dude?” I look at the time on my phone, it reading 5:39 pm. He meows again, butting his head on my leg as I snort and stand up. “Of course you are.”

I walk to my kitchen, setting my phone on the counter as I open the drawer I dedicated to Winston the day I bought my apartment. I pull out wet food for him, opening it and setting it on the ground next to his water bowl.

I lean against the counter and watch him shove his white little face into the bowl to inhale his food.

Shaking my head and laughing a bit, I stop when I notice my phone vibrating. Picking it up and unlocking it, I let out a huh as I open my messages and see my sister texting me.

Donna: I js got a date with the hottest mf I have ever seen

Donna: like smoking hot

Me: someone is actually interested in you? thats a first

Donna: ok ouch

Donna: but yes 

Donna: oh and mom decided shes going to stay at your place for the weeknd

Donna: so get ready to clean

I immediately hit the call button as I read her messages.

“She’s doing what now?” I yell into the phone, wincing as I see Winston puff his tail up and look at me.

“Why would you not tell me this before today? Friday is in three days, and my place is a freaking pigsty. Three days is not enough time to clean, Madonna.” I tell her and start looking around my kitchen, noticing everything I know my mom will criticize the minute she walks into my apartment.

“Uh, probably because I just found out today, and don’t call me Madonna. She called me right before I landed the date with McDreamy,” She states and sighs, and I hear her throw herself on what I assume is her bed. 

“Besides, your place is never a pigsty. It’s always so clean, I could literally eat off your bathroom floor. Speaking of eat, you should also probably cook something, ‘cause we both know she ain’t eatin’ anywhere else.” The southern accent at the last part of her sentence was absolutely awful, but I understood it enough.

“Right, right, of course,” I sigh, hearing a thunk come from my bedroom as I watch Winston race towards the door.

Remembering the fact that I left my window open in my room, I assume a bird managed to fly its way into there, and that that was probably why Winston seemed so interested in it. “So, what’s McDreamy's name? I don’t think you’ve told me yet.” 

I change the subject as I start to walk towards my room to get the poor bird out of there before Winston tortures it. As I turn to go down the hallway, I stop when I notice the bedroom light is on. 

“Oh! His name is Badri, and he owns his own company. ‘Jules Jewels’, or whatever. Anyway, he lives in-” 

The blood rushing through my ears is loud enough to block her voice out, and the fast beat in my chest definitely does not help.

Thousands of True Crime documentary scenes play through my head where my current situation is the beginning scene of a vicious murder. 

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it refuses to leave. I chew on my lip as I slowly walk backwards back into the kitchen, clearing my throat as I walk towards my knife block on my counter. “Sorry, could you repeat that again? You, um, cut out for a second.”

“Mhm! I said that Badri’s sister was getting married next fall, and that she invited us to come to the wedding.” I hum in response, taking out a chef’s knife and taking off the safety cover. 

“I’m sorry Donna, but I’m gonna have to call you back. Kensley’s texting me about when our next therapy session will be.” I lie to her, grasping the knife in my hand tightly. 

“Oh, that’s okay! I’ll call you later to tell you more, love you, bye!” She says right before I hang up on her, and I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

I go over to my sink, turning on the faucet to hopefully drown out my footsteps and any creaking the floor might do as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. 

I grasp the knife even tighter, furrowing my eyebrows as I hear Winston purr with a deep chuckle and a pop following after. I take a deep breath in, and open the door as quickly as I can.

I drop the knife at the person in front of me, and Winston darts out of the room, startled from the loud noise. 

“Go–good evening to yo–u too, sweets.”

Hey,

I have another question for you 👀

Could you imagine writing for House of the Dragon? If you’ve watched it!

Have a good day/night🫶

Your reader ❤️

Heyy, I might have another answer for you 👀

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 🫶

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. 

"Inseparable" Part Eleven

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Short Little Summary: They try to make pancakes, she gets fed up with him, a little something something occurs during shower time, and Patrick is a very possessive guy. (He gets a little freaky at the end)

Warnings: Vulgar language, groping, suggestive, no actual smut.

Words: 1,997

A/N: Chat, I'm so embarrassed right now, how could I forget this part. Anyway, I think cock-blocking Patrick is my favorite thing to do, it's so much fun. And sorry if you're favorite flower is carnations, I just thought of some random one, and sorry if you like cheese. Have fun reading, feedback is always welcome!!

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“What the fuck am I doing wrong?” Patrick yelled while holding onto the baking mix box, reading over the directions. Y/N sat on the counter, chewing on the leftover chocolate chips they didn’t use.

Patrick somehow ended up burning the pancakes, twice, so she gave up on breakfast. 

“Maybe stop staring at my tits and actually watch them cook.” She said and swung her legs back and forth, shoving a handful of chocolate chips in her mouth.

He glared at her and threw out the burnt pancakes, putting his hands on his hips and staring at the pan on the stove.

“I’m done with that shit.” Patrick murmured and opened the fridge, a slice of cheese appearing in his hand.

Y/N looked at him distastefully, her hatred of cheese showing all over her face. She hated the texture, the way it smelled, the way it tasted. She hated cheese more than she hated anything in the world, and she would forever stand by the fact that it was a food made by the devil himself.

Patrick slapped the cheese onto the counter next to Y/N, to which she flinched from the sudden loud noise.

“I want pancakes.” She whined, setting down the jar of chocolate chips and leaning back on her hands. Patrick took his eyes away from the cheddar on the counter to look at her, and he sneered.

“So make them your fucking self, lazy bitch.” He counteracted her complaint and picked the cheese slice back up, opening it and pulling off a small piece. His mischievous eyes didn’t stray from her tired ones as he chewed on the cheese like a damn cow.

“Fine, you fucking asshole.” Y/N hopped off the counter and wiped off any chocolate chips that may have been on her clothes before getting the stove and pan ready for pancakes, once again.

She had fixed up all the ingredients, after berating Patrick for somehow forgetting to add eggs into the pancake mix, and stood by the stove, watching her food cook.

Patrick was sitting down in one of the chairs that he stole from the dining room and was chewing on a plastic straw when Y/N had placed a plate of pancakes in front of him.

“Bon appétit.” She smiled exhaustingly, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. She needed something to wake herself up for, but she didn’t know what.

Well, she didn’t know until she bit into one of her pancakes. “I think I’m gonna take a shower and do my makeup when we’re done eating.” 

“I don’t give a flying fuck.” Patrick was scuffing down the sweet breakfast before pausing and looking at her. “Wait, no. I wanna join.”

“Absolutely not.”

–

Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes and lathering the shampoo on her head. Showers were relaxing to her, especially feeling clean. They were her favorite thing in the world.

“Damn, did you know that John Lennon’s dead?”

They were her favorite when Patrick wasn’t with her.

“Yes, Patrick. He’s been dead since, like, forever.” Y/N rolled her eyes and put her head under the water, rinsing her hair out. “What the hell are you reading, anyway?”

“I don’t fucking know, some weird ass magazine.” Patrick threw the paper book away from him on the floor and leaned back on the sink he was sitting on, crossing his arms.”You almost done?”

“No.” Y/N gritted her teeth and started putting conditioner in her hair, using a comb to make sure it was even all around her head. He was so impatient that it drove her insane.

She knew he only sat in the bathroom while she showered because he got to see her breasts when she reached out to grab a towel, and it was one of the things about their friendship that pissed her off.

He always wanted to shower with her, whether he’s the one who needed to shower first or her, he always wanted to be there with her.

Y/N grabbed a washcloth and put her body wash on it while she waited for her conditioner to work in her hair, and she started lathering herself with it.

Patrick smelled the berry scented soap and knew she was getting close to done because that was the second to last step in her routine. 

Vanessa rinsed herself off after, along with her hair, and turned off the water. She stared at the shower curtain that blocked Patrick from viewing her naked body, and thought for a second. 

He’d seen her naked before, even though they were all accidental. Or at least that’s what she told herself they were. She had bought a new body butter from the convenience store and wanted to try it out, and usually she’d ask Patrick for a towel and kick him out, but it always took forever to get him to leave.

She also needed her skin to still be wet when she put the lotion on, so she needed to put it on before drying off.

“‘You good in there?”

“Yup.” Y/N responded and opened the curtain, stepping out of the shower.

To say she felt like a piece of meat being dangled in front of a starving lion was an understatement. She knew he was going to stare at her breasts, like always, but his eyes went straight down her body, and he didn’t look up.

“Are you good?” She watched him lick his lips and smile before he finally looked into her eyes.

“Never better, babe.” He leaned his head against the mirror and sighed, his eyes going straight back to her breasts.

Y/N hummed and rang the leftover water out of her hair, grabbing the tub of body butter. She opened it and he watched her like a hawk watching its prey.

She put some on her fingers and ran it up and down her leg, massaging it before moving onto the other. She then moisturized her arms and looked back at Patrick, their eyes meeting each other's.

“‘Should let me do the rest of you.” He suggested with a serious face. Y/N smiled and tilted her head.

“Be my guest.”

Patrick leapt off the counter and put the same amount of lotion that she did on his own fingers, and she flicked her wet hair off her shoulders. She hated the way her hair felt when it was wet, but she’d put up with it for a bit.

He looked her dead in the eyes and rubbed the lotion all over the palms of his cold hands right before attaching them to her breasts.

She gasped at the cold, a soft ‘fuck’ leaving her lips when his cold fingers pinched at her nipples. “I really hope you know I meant my back and all that shit. Not this.”

“I know.” He grinned, continuing to grope her. His hands roamed the rest of her body as well, resting on her ass. 

She deadpanned and he smirked.

“Seriously?”

“You know me well enough to know that this was going to happen no matter what.” 

Y/N was about to say something when he started to move closer to her, using his grip on her ass as leverage to move her towards him as well, until the doorbell rang. His smile fell from his face and fear quickly flashed over hers, and she pushed him against the counter.

“Ow.” He rubbed at the part of his hips where it connected with the edge of the sink and watched her quickly rush to put clothes on. The doorbell rang again, and again, over and over.

“I’m fucking coming!” She yelled back, pulling her pants on and running to the door, Patrick following behind her.

“You definitely will later.” Patrick snickered and she whipped her head back to him to give him a pointed look. He raised his hands up in mock surrender and Y/N opened the door.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Patrick interrogated the guy at the door before Y/N could even open her mouth. 

“I’m just, uh. I’m here for Y/N.” The guy gestured to Y/N, and that was when the two friends noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Patrick looked unimpressed and Y/N didn’t know what to do, especially because she didn’t remember him at all. Luckily, she didn’t have to ask him who he was because Patrick was already on that case.

“And you fucking are?” He leaned his body against the side of the door frame and put an arm around Y/N's shoulder. 

The guy grimaced at Patrick and told him his name, “Duke Adams, and you are?”

“Patrick Hockstetter.” The two men held a stare down for a while before Y/N remembered who the guy was.

“Oh, you’re the guy I danced with during freshman year,” She pursed her lips, “You ditched me for Sandra Kellies.”

Duke cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes in embarrassment, and mostly to avoid Patrick’s burning gaze.

Patrick didn’t have a good feeling about the boy, although he never had a good feeling about anyone who would potentially date Y/N. 

“That uh, isn’t exactly a proud moment of my life.” Duke nervously chuckled and looked at Y/N with the sweetest eyes she’d ever seen. She remembered him as the worst guy of her life when she started dating, but for some reason, his eyes made it seem like he’d changed. They held a softer, kinder gaze than when they first met. “These are for you.”

He handed her the bouquet and stepped back a bit, glancing at Patrick. He never let his hardened gaze fall from Duke, and he reminded Duke of a guard dog.

Or more like one with early stages of rabies because he was sure if he didn’t leave soon, Patrick would start growling at him.

“Anyway, my house phone is in the tag, if you ever wanna talk again. I’ve missed you.” Duke smiled and stepped off Y/N's porch, getting into his car and driving away. 

She watched him go and waved him goodbye, her own smile clear on her face. She looked up at Patrick and noticed a look of hatred in his eyes, one she’d seen whenever she’d introduce a guy to him.

He was a possessive and jealous man, she knew that. Even though they weren’t dating or anything, she sure as hell was going to have her fun with him.

“Maybe I should call him.” She taunted and moved his arm off of her and walked back into the house, Patrick following her trail like a dog.

“The fuck are you talking about? He broke your heart, he sure as hell is gonna do it again.” He tried to reason, running up the stairs with her. She placed the bouquet of flowers on one of the small tables in the hallway, to which he noticed what flowers they were.

“They aren’t even your favorite, he got you fucking carnations.” He scoffed and stopped following her when she reached the bathroom and turned around, blocking his way of entering with her.

“Maybe I secretly like them.” She winked, and he huffed out a laugh.

“Don’t try that shit with me.” He put his arm up to hold onto the top of the door frame.

“Hm, oh well. It’s my call anyway, not yours.” She shrugged and smiled, closing the door on his face.

“What the fuck?” He yelled, wanting to continue what they were doing before they were interrupted. 

“Go jerk off or something, I don’t want you to distract me!” She yelled back and he heard the blow dryer turn on.

He groaned and pushed off the wall, making his way to Y/N's bedroom. He sat down on the soft sheets of the bed and looked around, trying to find something to do. His eyes laid on the familiar purple piece of fabric in her laundry bin, and he grinned.

Maybe he’d take up on her suggestion.