Hello could you do something where negan's girlfriend is in labour and his by her side supporting her and being so loving and when the baby comes (which is a girl) he crys and it's the first time his gf sees him cry and he promises his daughter that he will be a better man and an amazing dad to her
Summary (Fluff): While Negan's girlfriend goes through labor, he comforts her and does his best to make her feel loved. When the baby comes, he cries and promises to do his best and be an amazing dad to her.
Warnings: Vulgar language, pregnancy, labor, pet names (Sweetheart, honey, baby), "daddy" is used as a joke
A/N: Hey! I'm trying to find a new set up to organize my works, so tell me what you guys think about this way. I hope this work is what you were asking for!!
“Fucking feed me!” Negan’s girlfriend screamed, tightly holding onto the man’s hand as he winced in pain.
She’d been in labor for eight hours, and was only dilated by seven centimeters. Even though Dr. Carson specialized in pregnancies, he didn’t have what he needed at the sanctuary, so he couldn’t help her speed up the process. It was up to her body to go through with her labor, and it was going slowly.
Negan sat next to her on their bed while Carson was filling up a syringe of a painkiller. He felt like his hand was going to break with how tight Y/N was holding it, but he knew he couldn’t complain. A watermelon sized baby was coming out of her vagina, for fuck’s sake.
“I know, honey. But you can’t, not yet.” He told her and reached their conjoined hands up, kissing the back of hers. He pursed his lips together after and watched as Carson took her arm and injected the painkiller into her.
“It won’t stop all the pain, but it’ll help a bit.” Dr. Carson reassured her and threw out the needle.
Negan grimaced and closed his eyes, listening to his girlfriend yell and scream. He hated how much this hurt her, and hated how he knew she felt throughout the entire pregnancy.
When they first found out, they were overjoyed. It was an amazing feeling, knowing that they would bring a life that they would share into their family.
It was only until after a few months where the pregnancy was taking an obvious toll on Y/N.
She never felt clean enough, and never felt good enough. When Carson ordered her on bed rest, she was absolutely pissed.
–
“Sweetheart, you need to rest. Go lay down.” Negan had sighed and ran a hand through his hair, watching her tie her shoes.
“No, I’m going on this run. I’m sick of being cooped up in here, it’s miserable and I feel useless.”
–
They’d get into arguments all the time about how she needed to lay down and take things slow, even though she never listened. They’d always end with her in tears and them laying down together while he comforted her.
“Negan, I don’t want to do this anymore. Make it stop, please.” Y/N cried out and gripped the bed sheets tightly. He kissed her forehead and then her lips.
“I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it.” He encouraged her and nodded. She nodded back before throwing her head back in pain and shouting out curses at the top of her lungs.
“I see the head!”
–
Y/N cooed at her new born daughter, rubbing her finger against her cheek. She was so beautiful, with a head full of brown hair and her big brown eyes that stared curiously back into Y/N’s.
“You’re gorgeous.” Y/N whispered and smiled.
“D’You mind if Negan comes back in?” Dr. Carson asked her while packing up his medical supplies, having kicked out Negan when the baby was on its way so that he wasn’t in the way.
Y/N shook her head at Carson and he stood up, opening the door and calling for the man. Negan immediately came in and smiled at the sight of both of his girls.
“Hey.” He whispered, walking over to them. Carson left the room and closed the door, leaving the new family to themselves.
“Come here.” Y/N gestured him over and held her daughter out for Negan to hold.
He took her in his arms and grinned, cooing at her as Y/N did before. His daughter reached her small arm out of her blanket and grabbed at his nose and he laughed, carefully using his other hand to hold hers. He kissed it and she gripped his finger with her tiny ones.
“She looks just like her father.” Y/N said from her place on the bed as she witnessed the adorable exchange and took a drink of water from the cup that Carson placed on the bed stand.
Negan chuckled and stared into his daughter's eyes as she did his. “Now I’ve got two girls callin’ me daddy.”
“Fucking Christ, Negan.” His girlfriend snorted and ran her hands down her face.
They sat in silence for a few moments as Negan thought of all things he was going to do with his daughter.
He’d teach her how to cook, ride a bike, dress her up, take her on walks around the sanctuary. Maybe teach her how to play baseball, if Y/N allows him too.
Knowing he now had his own mini-him in his arms made him want to cry, and it wasn’t until Y/N asked him if he was okay that he noticed he was. The warm feeling went down his face and fell down his neck, and he sniffled.
“I’m going to be the best man…that you will ever know. I’m gonna take care of you, and I’m gonna make sure you get everything I never had.” He leaned in and pecked her tiny forehead, her hand still holding his finger.
“Yes, you will.” Y/N stared lovingly at Negan and their daughter, her own tears falling down her face.
It was then that she knew she had picked the right man, and that she was in the right place. Everything was perfect in that moment, and they were going to be the perfect family.
“I’m gonna name you Negan Junior.”
“Absolutely not.”
~First fan fic, lets goooo. Tell me if somethings off or my spelling needs to be changed, I crave feedback and validation. Have fun reading~ A/N
"I would never t-t-trick you, Y/n," His voice was tinted with disgust, possibly with hurt after what I had said to him.
"Goddammit, p-put down the gu-un for me?" He pleaded, neck twitching to the left, arms and hands shaking in the air. "I love you-"
"No. No, you manipulated me. You took advantage of me when I was at my weakest," It was my turn to look disgusted. I played with the safety catch, debating whether or not I should turn it off and shoot him.
"I loved you, I wanted to marry you," I laughed out, "and then I see your mugshot on that damn TV."
I tried to look into his hazel eyes, but they were covered by those stupid fucking orange goggles. He looked better without them, or his mask. He said he wore them because he was self conciseness of his looks, but now that I know what he's done, I don't think I believe him anymore.
He lowered his arms and tried to step closer, freezing when he heard a click. "Y/n-"
"Don't move any fucking closer," I point the gun at his head, finger already on the trigger. I stepped back, eyeing the hatchets that hung on his belt. I knew better than to turn away from a serial killer, but I could barely think, mind racing with the crimes he's done.
When I did I saw something that almost made my heart stop. More like someone, I guess.
"Sorry princess, nothing personal." And that was the last thing I saw before I felt like I got hit with a brick and passed out.
========================================
"Damn Toby, you really got a good one."
"I'm aware, Brian."
"Holy shit, she looks good in those jeans."
"Tim, I will f-fucking decapitate you and feed y-y-your flesh to Seedeater."
“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.
absolutely seething because I can never find any good fanfiction for a girl who isn’t some timid little fuck puppet. Like I get that some girls are hyper feminine but oh my god I just need a reader who can kick ass and hold their own. I’m not 4 foot 2 and 3 pounds I’m a decent sized female who could easily fill out the shirts of men I thirst over. I’m not cutely strolling into the room in my little pink sundress and white sandals, no dude I’m stomping into that room in jeans and a t shirt combat boots and saying the most disgusting dick joke you’ve ever heard. Sorry guys I’m not a girly girl
Guys I don't even ship Rick x Negan but the fanarts are so HOT
I forgot how fast this bitch runs, I thought while watching her go toward the treeline. I wonder if she remembers the deal.
Fuck, I hope not.
Last year I saw her on a camping trip with her friends, who were assholes anyway so I technically did her a favor by killing them, and decided she was going to be mine.
Well, her ass was going to be mine. I don't really care all that much about her.
The sound of the snap of a camera, a thump with the crunch of leaves and twigs, and cursing pulled me out of my train of thought, and I looked over at the sources and scoffed.
“T–ell me again how yo–u two dumbasses became prox–oxies?” Glaring at the masked idiots, the one in orange stands up and wipes off the leaves on his pants.
“We were here before you, Twitchy.” He snarls and looks down at the one in yellow who was still on the ground and looking through his camera.
“So what's her name? I mean, since you've dragged us here to help you play Hide and Seek, I think we should know what to call her.” He looks up at the two of us, his black mask slipping off his face just a bit.
I shake my head and start walking in the direction she started in.
“Yo–u don’t need to k–know it, and I didn’t wan–nt you two here.” I groan, watching a bird and a fox wrestle in the distance.
“The Op–op–erator’s just an untrusti–ing bitch,” Mumbling, I kick a rock in front of my boot and look back at the two. “Brian, how long has it been?”
“Two minutes and thirteen seconds.” He looks at his watch and wipes his yellow sleeves of the twigs he fell on and looks through his camera, no doubt looking back at the video he took of the girl he stalked yesterday.
I roll my eyes and my neck jerks to the right, my knuckles unwillingly cracking inside of my pocket.
I reach my hand up to my left cheek and scratch at the scar, a bad habit that always ends in a bloody, bigger hole than the last.
I think I’ll just try to find her now, it’s not like she’s counting the seconds.
My hand grasps the hatchet hanging on my waist and I start the walk to the other one a couple yards away, silently praying to any god that she still has that fighting spirit in her that I love breaking so much.
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!!
“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.
Patrick groaned when Y/N shot up from her spot on the couch gasping and tightly gripping his forearm. He smacked his lips as he looked around the room trying to gather what was going on.
“The fuck’s your problem?” He whispered, squinting his eyes through the dark. Y/N whipped her head around to look at him and hugged onto him tightly, burying her face in his neck.
Patrick was too tired to care, though, and stayed in his seated position with his arms on his sides, blinking the sleep away from his eyes.
He looked back at her after scanning the room and sat motionless for a moment, right before plopping his face into her hair and going back to sleep as Y/N sobbed and cried.
A little while later, she wiped her nose on his bare shoulder and grimaced at the line of snot she left on it. She sat up when she heard birds chirping, and the faintest bit of sun poking through her window, contrasting with the rest of the pitch black room. Sighing, she shifted to move away from Patrick right before she heard a loud thump and groaning.
“The fuck is your problem?” Patrick hissed from his new position on what Y/N assumed was the floor.
She snorted a bit and pulled her shirt back down, why it was raised past her breasts and exposing her bra made her concerned, but she didn’t want to know what Patrick was up to. She smacked her lips as Patrick had done in an earlier time and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes.
“Ah, fuck!” Patrick yelled after yet another thump, and plopped himself onto the spot on the couch next to her holding his foot. The sun had risen more so she could see the room, and she bursted into full laughter when she realized he stubbed his toe on the coffee table in front of them.
“It’s not that fucking funny.” He grumbled, his hand massaging his toes.
“Oh, yes it is.” Y/N wiped away the tears that formed from her outburst and let out shaky breaths before calming down.
“Oh, yes it is.” Patrick mocked in a snarky tone and put his feet on the coffee table, knocking over the TV remote.
Y/N deadpanned at him and they stared at each other for a couple seconds before he realized that she wanted him to pick it up. He only grinned and moved his legs to sit criss-cross.
“Jackass.” Y/N mumbled, standing up to bend over and pick it up. Patrick wolf-whistled, grabbing his crotch and putting his arm on the back of the couch.
“Damn, is it hot in here, or is it just me?” He licked his lips, smiling when she tossed the remote at him. Y/N sat back down and made a disgusted sound.
“So what now.” Y/N said, crossing her hands in her lap and staring at the floor.
“We could talk about whatever the fuck you were dreaming about.” Patrick turned his head to look at her, and he stared at her while she inspected her carpet.
Y/N was silent, eyes unmoving. It unnerved Patrick deeply to see her so quiet, and he was incredibly curious as to why she was.
“Let’s make pancakes.”
hiii what fics to do you have coming up for us to enjoy!
Hi babes! So far my WIPs are
Oneshots:
Carol Peletier/Reader: Angst/Fluff
**After loss, the reader distances herself from the rest of the group, doing her tasks quietly. When Carol notices, she tries to step in, and gets told off by the reader.
Jake Sully/Reader: Fluff/Tension
**Neytiri leaves Jake alone in the forest to hunt by himself as a test, and he comes across a poisonous fruit. Unknowing, he tries to eat it and gets stopped by Na’vi!Reader, who then educates him on the flora and language of the Na’vi.
Ongoing Stories:
Patrick Hockstetter/Reader: Enemies to Lovers
**Beverly’s older sister often gets bullied by the Bower’s Gang, more specifically by Patrick himself. They both have feelings for each other, but refuse to believe themselves. Patrick is tied into a bet to go out with the reader, and she goes ballistic when she finds out. She and Beverly move in with her aunt when summer ends, and haven’t seen anyone since. When Mike calls everyone 27 years later, how will she react to seeing Patrick again? What will she do when he’s gotten therapy and has gotten help for his solipsism?
George Foyet/Reader: Angst/Tension/Fluff
**The Boston Reaper is on a hunt for his next victim, and finds the perfect college girl in a bar. As he stalks her overtime, he develops an odd attraction to her, and does everything to make sure he’s the only one in her love life. Even if kidnapping is his last option.
-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