“I want you to watch her for a good, couple of hours?” Negan held a squirming toddler in his arms as he talked to Simon about her. The said other man watched her as she whined and held on tighter to her father, and debated if it was worth it to babysit the clingy girl.
“Right, right. Just watch her is all? I don’t have to like, change her or anything?” Simon questioned, grimacing when he saw the girl bite down onto Negan’s shoulder.
“Fuck! Okay, down you go!” Negan shouted, setting her down onto the floor. She giggled and started pulling at a string on his pant leg. Negan sighed in defeat and ruffled her hair, answering Simon’s question, “She’s potty trained, you dumb fuck. And yes, that’s all.”
Simon hummed and nodded his head. He was without a doubt a little nervous, who wouldn’t be? Taking care of The Big Man™’s girl was a huge deal, and even one fuck-up could result in getting fucked-up.
Especially since she was such a little hassle. She’d always run away from her father whenever he didn’t keep a close enough eye on her, and she’d hide from him. She even talked to Daryl through the cell door one time, which was something Negan was not happy with.
“Hey, Negan? Everything’s ready for Alexandria.” Gavin walked past the two with a notebook in his hands, lifting it up and shaking it.
“M’kay.” Negan responded and looked down at the little girl who was eating a piece of string. “Stop that, honey. That’s not good for you.”
He sighed and looked back to Simon, who looked a bit fearful. Negan snorted and pulled his daughter off of him and held her out for the other man to take.
Simon held out his arms and awkwardly took her into them. She whined and turned herself around to stare at her father, who put a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Bye, honey. I’ll see you soon,” He shot a pointed look to his friend, “Take care of her.”
Simon nodded and watched Negan leave with the rest of the saviors and looked back to his daughter, who was emotionlessly staring at him.
“Your hair looks funny.”
–
“Kid? Where did you go?” Simon called out, lifting up a cardboard box on the ground to see what was under it.
It took two hours and thirteen minutes to lose Negan’s daughter, and now he had to find her before whenever he came back. Obviously it was a game to her, but since Simon didn’t know the exact time his boss was coming back, he was panicking.
He set down the box when he heard soft laughing come from down the hallway he was in, and then realized what she was doing. “Oh, fuck.”
Simon jogged down the corridor until he reached where Daryl’s cell was, and he saw her sitting with her back against the door.
“My daddy has the key, not me.” She smiled, playing with the skirt of her dress. The chair that was supposed to have a guard in it was empty, and he assumed that that was why she ran away to talk to Daryl. He sighed in relief, and was about to walk over to her and pick her up when she looked at him and gasped.
“Bye, Mr. Daryl!” She shouted and stood up, running down the hallway away from Simon.
“Shit!” Simon groaned, following behind her. She giggled and took a turn to the right, and then she tripped over her own feet.
“Ow!” She cried out, holding her now scraped knee. Tears poured out of her eyes and Simon crouched down next to her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, honey. Can I look at it?” He grabbed her leg softly and scanned it over to see how bad the injury was. She sniffled and hiccuped, her cheeks wet with hurt. It overall didn’t look bad enough to see Dr. Carson, but it did need to be wrapped.
“Come here.” Simon picked her up and rubbed her back while she cried into his shoulder, and he winced when she wiped her nose on his shirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
–
Simon sat her on the sink counter in his room and opened one of his cabinets, grabbing a first-aid kit and setting it down next to her. He grabbed a rag as well, and turned on the sink to put it under the water. Negan’s daughter wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve and watched him.
“I’m gonna wipe the blood away, and it’s gonna hurt a bit. M’kay, honey?” He told her, letting her brace herself for the pain. She nodded and bit her lip, and Simon nodded in return and placed the wet cloth on her knee.
“It stings!” She complained and tried to pull her knee away from him, only for him to grab it back.
“I know, I know. But I need to clean it to put a bandaid on it.” Simon sighed, “Look, I’m done.”
She looked at her knee and pouted, and Simon opened the kit next to her. He looked through it and found a box of bandages, and he grabbed one, peeling away the paper on it and placing it on her knee.
“Look, we’re all done!” He smiled at her and reached his hand up to pinch her cheek. She giggled and kicked her legs back and forth.
Simon grabbed her and set her down off the counter and held her hand, “Do you want a popsicle? I heard Danny from the work stations makes some damn good cherry ones.”
“Daddy says they have liquor in them.”
“Oh.”
Hey,
I hope you are doing well. I wanted to ask how your grandma is doing in the hospital. I hope she gets better soon.
How are you dealing with your writer's curse? I know it can be tough, but I'm sure you'll find your inspiration again soon. Have a great day/evening! Love you!
Your reader ❤️
Aww, thank you for checking in!
She's doing a lot better now, she's been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and has been resting. My writers curse does no want to seem to let up, so I've been trying to combat it with some other fics that I've needed to write.
The thing stopping me from writing is that I'm trying to find a way to transition from reader and Patrick arguing to them getting scared by Pennywise, but my brain won't think 😭
It's slowly coming together though, and I can't wait to share it with you!
Have a good day/evening, love you too ❤
“‘Maximum hydration and acne preventer’?” Patrick stared at the box in his hand, then at the gooey face mask Y/N was placing on her own face. She snorted and put it on, fixing her wet hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.
“Oh, yes. You’ll have the prettiest face of them all, ‘Trick.” She smiled devillisly, snatching the box from Patrick’s hands and opening it. He grunted and looked at her dresser, and then to the dirty pile of clothes she left in her bin.
The purple lace hidden inside of the shorts she wore a while ago caught his attention, and he questioned who she bought those for.
Hopefully not that dumbfuck Aiden from her physics class. Y/N went out with him once, and Patrick had scared him away after their ‘date’.
Patrick didn’t like to sharing. Especially not what he considered to be his property.
Y/N blew away a stray, wet hair that got into her eye as she looked over the directions for the face mask. She had taken a shower right before Patrick had arrived and didn’t have the time to blow dry her hair.
She hated having wet hair, and the way it felt on the back of her neck. It made her cringe, and Patrick used to pour water on her head all the time in the fifth grade when he found out. But she broke his nose after a while, and he hasn’t done it since.
“We should totally watch a movie.” Y/N suggested while sitting in Patrick’s lap, putting the front of his hair into a ponytail to get ready for the mask.
His hands were resting on her hips to hold her steady and he watched her tongue poke out of her lips as she got more frustrated with his hair falling out. She clicked her tongue and moved forward more, tightening her legs around him so she didn’t fall.
The whole time, Patrick only stared down her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and had on a baggy white shirt, and he took his opportunity.
He thought of giving her a hickey for fun, but remembered when he did that in eighth grade and ended up with a busted lip, so he decided against it.
“If it ends with a blowie then you can choose.” He grumbled when she started applying the grey mask on his forehead, his grip on her hips tightening.
“No, and loosen your fucking hands. I’m going on a date with a guy Nicole thought I’d like, and I don’t want him to think I’m a whore.” She smiled and booped his nose with the brush and resituated herself on him, pausing when she felt something she wished she hadn’t underneath her.
“‘Trick.” She stared at him, scared to move.
“Nessie.” They stayed still for a long time, not sure what to do in the situation.
“How is this gonna end?” Y/N asked, absolutely terrified of what she thought his answer might be.
“I have a few ideas.” Patrick grinned and moved his hips to egg her on, and he licked his lips at her.
“Yeah. Well you get one, so pick wisely.” She furrowed her eyebrows and held her hand to his chest to stop him, and he pouted like a kicked puppy.
“Oh?” He dragged out the syllable, “So I can get my way?”
“Patrick.” She warned again, her fingers gripping his shirt and her other hand tightening into a fist, very ready to swing on him.
It wasn’t the first time Y/N sat in his lap and he got a hard-on, and especially not the first time Patrick tried to convince her to “fix his problem”.
It never worked, though. And it always ended with him getting hit somehow.
He snickered, looked down at her breasts, then back to her eyes. “Nightmare on Elm Street.”
“What?” Confused, she tilted her head.
“‘What?’” He mocked, “It’s what we’re watching tonight.”
Patrick leaned back on the bed, and crossed his arms behind his head. She looked surprised at the switch up for a second, then tried to move off of him. His hands swiftly moved back to her waist, and he pushed her onto him harder. He looked amused, the exact opposite reaction to hers.
“Not even a lick?”
“No.”
“Not even a suckle?”
“No.”
“Not even-”
“Patrick, I swear to fucking God. I will blow your top head off instead of your bottom one with a gun.”
He grimaced and let her go, and she quickly stood up and took the boxes for the masks to her trash can, but not before reading how long they’d stay on.
“Can you last twenty minutes without jerking off?” Y/N asked him, her goo-covered eyebrow raising playfully at him. He sighed dramatically and lifted his arm up to fake cover his eyes, peeking at her from under them.
“I guess.” He rolled his eyes and sat up, and she smiled and turned around to grab the remote. Realizing it fell onto the floor, she bent down to pick it up, and her shorts rode up.
Patrick stared at her and groaned loudly, hands reaching up to take out the ponytail that was still in his hair.
“You’re killing me, babe.” He grinned, and she looked back at him and scoffed.
His smile only grew more and he got up off the bed, and looked her dead in the eyes as he started to undo his belt. She glanced down at his crotch and back up, the same way he did her breasts.
“What the hell are you doing?” She reluctantly asked, her hand gripping around the TV remote.
“Changing.” He simply said, dropping his jeans. He only wore black boxers and a shirt now, and he looked away to go into her bottom drawer to pull out his pair of grey sweatpants that he gave Y/N whenever he wanted to change at her house.
Her eyes stayed trained on him, and she pointed the remote at the TV and turned it on. He put the sweatpants on and grabbed his crotch to “readjust” it, winked at her, and flopped down onto the small sofa in front of her TV.
Summary: You think a pro-hero is hot⁉️⁉️
Warnings: minimal vulgar language, spinner is a master of the art of stalking
A/N: here we go again
guys we need new names for ticci toby. it's the name his bullies used to use and it low key is really tacky. 😭
drop suggestions in the notes please, I want really cool axe murderer names, like "The Hatchet's Weilder" or something. 🙏
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 🤗
Every episode of house be like:
A small child is visibly ill. They start coughing and clutching their throat, but whips out an inhaler and they’re fine. Oh shit! The man across the street just started bleeding out of both of his eyeballs!
Cut to house grimacing in pain and swallowing too much Vicodin.
Differential! Go! Shut up chase you’re an idiot.
They do a bunch of tests, everything is inconclusive!
We need to biopsy the patients eyeballs!
Cut to foreman explaining to the family about how invasive and dangerous a biopsy is.
Biopsy is inconclusive. Cut to house and Wilson. Wilson gives a long introspective dialogue about how houses addiction is deeply rooted in his own self hatred and that he pushes people away to further punish himself.
Epiphany time! Give the patient the medicine drug!
Patient is saved. House and Wilson eye fuck each other while going out for drinks.
Summary: you try to contact your training partner! he lowkey hates you tho. good luck!
Warnings: vulgar language
A/N: i love music sm omg. PLEASE DONT MIND HOW HE BLOCKED YOU BEFORE YOU RESPONDED TO HIM ABOUT THE VEGGIES PLEASE IT WONT LET ME CHANGE IT.
“I’m not showing too much cleavage, am I?” I ask my friend Cassy, pulling up on the silky red dress I was wearing to cover my breasts. It was prom day, the same day I was dreading since Ollie asked me to go with him.
Don’t get me wrong, going out in a beautiful dress was my dream since I was a little girl. It was just the fact that I didn’t want to go with Ollie.
He wasn’t my type, and he was known for not actually dancing with girls at prom and taking them in a janitor’s closet to fuck them instead. He’s never piqued my interest, but since nobody else asked me to go, I accepted.
“Honey, you look gorgeous! Let those girls free, the world needs to see how hot you are.” Cassy said before throwing her head back and taking a shot, her favorite thing to do before a party. I nervously smiled at her and fixed my hair before leaving the bathroom.
“Yeah, I just don’t want that creepy English teacher to dress-code me.” I walked to my vanity and sat down on the stool, pulling out a tube of lipgloss from my purse and applying it to my lips.
Cassy shrugged and sat down on my bed, bending over to put her black heels on. “If he looks at you weirdly, I’ll beat his 62 year old ass.”
“Thanks, Cassy.” I roll my eyes and laugh, reaching forward on the vanity to open my jewelry box. When I did, a polaroid of me and an old friend fell out of it, and I picked it up and stared at it.
Me and him used to live in the same neighborhood before I had to move away, and we were the greatest of friends. Sure, he was a bit of an oddball, but it never deterred me from him. We grew apart, though, and went our separate ways throughout highschool. Now that we were both seniors and could attend the senior-only school dance, I had a small amount of hope that he’d ask me. I wasn’t sure why, but I just did.
“All right. I think we’re ready.” Cassy stood up and smoothed out her dark green dress in my full length mirror, and shortly after putting the photo away I did as well. “Let’s go dance.”
–
The DJ was playing Again by Noah Cyrus when we arrived, and the lights in the cafeteria room were red. That seemed to be the theme as Cassy and I walked around trying to find our dates. It took a couple of minutes for her to find West, and she bid me goodbye while interlocking her arm with his.
It was well into the night and I couldn’t find Ollie, and I had accepted the fact that he probably stood me up for another girl. I was leaning against one of the tables that held fruit punch, and I downed the last drops of the drink in my cup before deciding to step away from the ear-damaging crowd.
Making my way out of the cafeteria, I sighed when I walked out of the doors and entered the empty hallway. The sound of all the others were muffled, and the only thing that you could hear were the soft tapping of my heels.
Wandering aimlessly through the quiet highschool, I walked past one of the closets in a darker part of the building. A loud thump against the door and a couple of moans told me all I needed to know, and I scoffed at their lack of decency.
“That’s it, take this big dick!” I stopped in my tracks when I recognized his voice.
Ollie.
Now, I know I had tried to convince myself earlier in the night that he did in fact stand me up, but a part of myself also didn’t quite believe it. I had thought of multiple excuses he could’ve had, and even though this one had the biggest chance, it still hurt.
Was I not good enough? Not pretty enough? I still would’ve turned him down if he asked for sex, but why didn’t he even try?
Spirals of thoughts turned and twisted in my head as I continued walking around the school, except this time I had a place I wanted to go. Me and my old friend used to hang around the place after hours when we were younger, and there was a girls bathroom that was supposed to get renovated decades ago. Of course, the school board never got around to it, so it was a good place to skip and hide away in. It was on the second floor of the school, directly above the cafeteria.
A remix of 180 by Bastián and Glory Box by Portishead seeped into my ears as I opened the door, and it continued to echo around when it closed. It was a larger bathroom than the others, and I walked up to the mirror that took up half of the wall. There were scarce lights, so it was rather dim around the other areas of the room.
I looked at my face and touched up on any makeup that faded, and then took my hair out of the low bun it was in. I played around with my hair, and scratched at my head, softly moaning at the self-massage I was doing.
I froze when I heard the door creak and close, and then I locked eyes with the intruder in the mirror.
“Patrick?” I muttered, spinning around to face him. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt and a black tie, and I made a small note that the same color matched my dress. His hair was slightly tousled, and a stranded curl rested on his forehead.
We both took in the sight of each other before I cleared my throat.
“What are you doing here?” I tilted my head, staring into his green eyes.
“‘Could ask you the same thing.” He stated simply and started a low stride towards me, his eyes roaming over my body once again. It made me feel bare, to be on such a display for him. I remembered how low chested my dress was and pulled it up nervously, and even in the dim lights I could see his smile.
Patrick had always towered over me in height, and he took advantage of it now while circling me. I folded my hands in front of me and played with fingers as he did, waiting for him to be done with his inspection.
“Well, don’t you look pretty.” He stopped in front of me and grinned. It was obvious that I was nervous, even a blind person could see it. I hadn’t talked to him since middle school, and seeing him now intimidated me in a way.
“‘Could say the same thing to you.” Shrugging, I turn around to look at myself in the mirror again.
Patrick huffed out a laugh and stepped behind me, placing his hands on my waist. Being so close to him made my breath hitch, but I couldn’t let him know. I pretended it didn’t affect me and pulled out my lip gloss, reapplying it to my lips. It was red and shimmery, which was one of the reasons I had chosen it out of the many others in my purse. The other reason was that I knew it was his favorite.
When we were in middle school, my mom had bought it for me for my birthday. Patrick and I were hanging out one day, and I had decided to put it on because I thought it was pretty. He of course noticed, and asked me a simple question that led him to be my first kiss.
“Can I try some on?” Patrick whispered in my ear, his thumb rubbing circles on my hip. I froze again, and put the applicator back in the tube. I locked eyes with him again in the mirror, and he kissed at the spot on my neck below my right ear. His soft but chapped lips caused goosebumps to run all over my body, and a warm feeling to form in my stomach.
“Well?” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine, and I turned around and backed away from him. He stepped forward towards me, and the cycle repeated until my back hit the edge of one of the sinks. I swallowed down the lump in my throat that caused me to be silent, but before I could speak, he did instead.
“Jump.” It barely registered in my brain what he wanted me to do, but it clicked when his hands grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the sink. My legs wrapped around his hips, and my arms went around his neck.
I didn’t think before I did, but before I knew it my lips were on his. It was sloppy, hungry, but it fit with how we felt. I grabbed at the hair on the base of his neck and he grabbed at the red fabric of my dress.
We didn’t pull away from each other, but probably for different reasons. I had a thing for Patrick since I’ve known him, and I didn’t want to pull away and have him disappear again.
I didn’t know why he was so frantic like me, though. Maybe he felt the same, or maybe it’s all a heat of the moment kind of thing. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it to end.
Patrick’s hand moved slyly up and down my body, and mine stayed in his hair. I always liked how long it was, it matched his face shape well. And since he hated going to the barber, it worked out for the both of us.
I whimpered when his fingers pinched my thighs, and finally pulled away to breathe while he smiled at my reaction. We both panted and looked at each other, eyes filled to the brim with lust. Patrick licked his swollen lips, tasting the flavor of the gloss.
“Cherry?” He asked with a toothy grin.
I nodded breathlessly, my mouth dryer than a desert. “Your favorite.”
He hummed and pulled me in for another kiss, even more eager than the last. My hands left his hair and roamed down to undo his tie, and I cursed into the kiss when I couldn’t get the knot undone. Patrick snickered and reached his hands up to do it himself, my own hands cupping his face.
When he took the tie off, he pulled my hands away and placed it in them. Confused as to why he was pulling away, I opened my mouth to ask, but stopped immediately.
He kneeled in front of me, mischief flooding his green eyes. Patrick grabbed my legs and spread them, and he kissed at my ankle. He continued his charade of leaving marks all over and up my left leg before switching to the right one.
His hands roamed behind me to pull me closer to the edge of the porcelain sink, and then they moved back down to the insides of my thighs.
They reached up for my underwear, and he didn’t even need to tell me to lift my hips. It was like an automatic response to his touch, one that I couldn’t help. He noticed as well, and swiftly pulled down the damp red fabric and threw it aside.
“You’ve got quite the theme goin’, huh toots?” He laughed and placed a kiss on each of my knees. I ticked my tongue and lightly tapped his side with my red heel, urging him to hurry up.
“I like to match.” I lean back onto the sink and run my fingers through my hair, biting my lip as he shuffles closer to me.
His eyes were trained on mine, and he lifted up my dress, disappearing under the silk. I gasped when he blew air on my groin, and threw my head back when I felt his tongue on me.
Patrick ate like a starved man eating his last meal, not even coming up to take a breath. His hands held my thighs apart so that they didn’t clamp around his head, and all that could be heard throughout the bathroom were my moans and the soft sound of music.
Panting and gasping when he sucked on just the right spot, my fingers went under my dress and tightened themselves around his hair. He groaned into my cunt, and that was what threw me over the edge.
“Patrick, I’m gonna-” He didn’t let me finish my sentence and his thumb on my clit, rubbing it in just the right way to make me scream his name.
He let me ride my high, slowing down a bit, but not stopping. I whined and tried to tug his head away, but he didn’t let up. Finally, after a couple of complaints, he pulled back, leaving a few last licks and standing up.
His face was stained and shiny, and he wiped it away on his sleeve. Embarrassed, I looked away while he did. He took off his blazer, and grabbed my chin. He kissed me once again, and the warm feeling came back shortly. He grasped my hands in his and guided them towards his shirt, and I caught on. I unbuttoned it and he tossed it away from us, ignoring my grumbles of how dirty the floor probably is.
Patrick unbuckled his belt and let it drop, and then unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them down just enough to where he could let his cock out, and once again pulled me closer to him. Wrapping my legs around him and putting my face into his shoulder, he started to align himself with my entrance before I yelped,
“Condom! Use a condom.” I pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, my concerned expression opposite of his unamused one. He rolled his eyes and started rocking himself against me, sliding in and out of my folds.
I moaned loudly and grabbed his shoulder, covering my mouth with my other hand. Patrick smirked and went faster, a knowing look on his face.
“Still want a condom?” He asked, and I shook my head with doubt.
Patrick was smug as he lined himself up again, and his lips caught my whine as he thrusted inside slowly. He kept going until he bottomed out all the way, and he cursed the whole time.
“Fuck. Ease up on me, dollface. You’re real fucking tight.” He groaned, and pulled out almost all the way. I whined and scratched at his back, and he rammed himself back in. The process repeated, and the bathroom was filled with moans and swears once again.
I could feel him twitch inside me, indicating that he was close. I had already come twice around him, and was crying at the overstimulation.
“Patrick, it’s too much.” I cried against his neck.
“I know, fucking hell, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it. Just give me one more, baby.” He reached his hand down and thumbed at my clit, making me fall off the edge once again. The constriction around him made him moan loudly and pull out of me, leaving a mess all over my thighs.
We sat there for a couple minutes, breathing in each other's air. I leaned my head back against the sink’s mirror and stared at him as he stepped away to pick up his tie, wiping away the white liquid on me with it. He tucked himself back into his pants, put his belt on, and the rest of his clothes. He threw the tie into the small, empty trashcan to the left of us and kissed me.
Patrick didn’t pull away until we both couldn’t breathe, and then he stepped away from me, and walked to the door.
“Eleven PM tomorrow, here.” He opened the door and walked out.
Patrick left me alone with my thoughts, and I stayed sitting on the sink for a while longer. Thinking over my night and what he and I were now, I realized that we were still at the school dance, and that I had to find Cassy and drive her home.
“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!”
Hi,
I hope you're doing well!
I wanted to ask you which character from the movie "It" is your favorite and why. I’m really interested to know what you like about that character.
Looking forward to your response!
Your reader 🫶
Hi, I'm doing great! I hope you are too, it's been kind of rough this summer 😭 I've had a surgery, so I haven't been able to update the story much, and I'm so sorry! But to answer your question,
my favorite It character is definitely Pennywise. I really like how much the movies and the book portrayed him as a God-like entity, and he's very well written. Just enough to make you confused, but enough to make you want to know so much more. He's always been my favorite, and I've never like an It character more than him, even though I write so much about Patrick lol.
I do enjoy writing for Patrick, he's very fun to write and I feel like I can write him much better than any other character, but Pennywise will always have a special place for me.
Thanks for asking!