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"Inseparable" Part Three

As she laid back down in bed with Patrick she tried to fall asleep. Yet to no avail, she couldn't. Patrick woke up later on in the morning, slinging onto her like a wild tick; a very unlikely thing for him to do.

She eventually got him to calm down and managed to get him to latch off, after some swearing and somewhat empty threats. Still questioning everything that happened, she pressed him even further about his dream and why he was acting like he was.

While he explained his dream, Y/N only got more confused. None of it made sense to her at all. Flying leeches? Some red and white clown? A blue fridge? He was frustrated when she said she couldn’t understand, and she told Patrick that it was only a dream after she got him to calm down again.

Y/N tried her best to get him to believe her, and soon the room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing and occasional sniffles. She felt he was leaving something out, something important. Wanting to find out, she offered to go on a walk to get some fresh air.

They walked along their usual path and talked about Y/N's week to clear the tension, and it seemed to work. Patrick was easier and his normal ass-hatted self, but still rather jumpy.

They were joking around about how some kid Brandon had actually pissed his pants when Henry said “I’m gonna beat you like how your mom beat my dick last night,” when Patrick had stopped and kneeled to re-tie his shoe.

Y/N had looked over the playground while waiting and saw something floating by the swing set. Frowning, she squinted her eyes to try to see it better. It was the red balloon from earlier.

“‘Trick, look!” She tapped Patrick’s shoulder and whispered. He looked over to where she was pointing, but as soon as he did, it disappeared.

He uttered a ‘huh’ dumbly and watched the empty swing go back and forth, and his skin got colder each time it did. Y/N sighed and pouted a bit, “Never mind.”

Patrick looked up at her and studied her face as she kicked at the gravel on the pathway, his eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t like the way Y/N made him feel sometimes. How it felt like he had tapeworms in his stomach anytime she’d accidentally touch him, or why he always felt like he had to keep the gang away from her so they didn’t do anything stupid.

Or how every single time she’d cry about her day, he’d get a little jealous of whoever made her cry. Sure he felt bad for her, or as much as he could anyway. But her tears should be for him to see, and him only. Just for him. 

He knew what those feelings meant. The last one, at least. He excused it, though. Blamed it on puberty, and he’d get rid of it by finding some town slut to ride his dick.

But the other feelings? He hated those. Sometimes he’d think about killing her so they’d stop. He couldn’t bring himself to, though. Patrick kind of liked Y/N, and not in the way he wanted.

LoV-

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

"fine asf" touya t. mha smau

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

"surprise?" touya t. mha smau

"together 💕" touya t. mha smau

Classmates-

"well damn" katsuki b. mha smau

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

ProHeroes-

None yet..

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?

Hey y'all!

I'm so sorry that I've been inactive! I've had so much school recently that I've only been able to get to the shorter fanfictions! If you requested something a little longer, just know that it's on it's way and in progress. I promise that I will get to them and that I am trying to make them the best possible!

Au revoir!

"Inseparable" Part Six

Patrick was plucking out single hair strands from a sleeping Y/N's head as he watched Glen Lantz die, rolling his eyes at the inaccuracy. He’d pause and stop breathing when Y/N would stir, and be relieved when she was just getting more comfortable. He turned his head around to look at the clock next to Y/N's bed, and it read 1:24 AM.

Patrick had watched the movie twice now, afraid to move and wake up Y/N. She was a part of the very few things that terrified him when she was asleep, for she had bit him on his forearm when he tried to wake her one time, and he still had the scar.

He never tried to wake her up again. 

He groaned internally, ready to accept the fact that he’d be in that position for a while. Then he looked at Y/N's face and tilted his head at her.

A moment ago she had been peaceful, like the ending silence of a baby crying, and now she was twitching. She was sweaty, her eyebrows were knitted together, and she kept whispering ‘What do you mean?’ over and over.

"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.

Hii❤️could you do something with Simon from twd where he babysits negan's daughter she's about 5 or 6 and she falls down and she hurts her keen and Simon is just so sweet with her

Thank you!

This one is on it's way!

HELLO HELLO HELLO! I have a fucked up fic request! (heavy heavy angst) because I think my trauma would be a lot more bearable if Dr. Chase were there! (fanfiction about myself? how vain)

so basically, a 19 y/o girl lands herself in the hospital (hi y/n!), her spine is absolutely shattered! why, you may ask? tw domestic abuse! her bf pushed her down the stairs! we can call him Logan. oh! and she had to get 12 stitches on her head from where she fell! yippee!

house complains that this isn't their department, that she just needs a fuckton of work done on her spine (womp wonp bro! it was assignined to you!)

bf visit her every day, always crying, always feeling so guilty about what he's done. house and foreman come in the room, girl is "asleep" and bf I crying, apologizing. house tells him to gtfu, and then foremans all "dumb shit ur gonna wake her!!!!" house leaves! hates patients anyway! girl opens her eyes, says to forman, "don't worry about waking me, I wasn't even asleep.. I jut didn't want to comfort him :\" foreman makes a SNIDE AND RUDE remark. what a cunt, fauwck your foreman !

house yells at foreman in his office!! Dr. Chase I sent down to check on the patient

"I'm Dr. Chase, blah blah blah" "oh I'm okay dw about me!" "I was sent to check on you, one of my colleagues said some pretty harsh things to you.." "it's okay, he probably has a point.. Logan is trying to do the right thing after all...." "the right thing!? he pushed you down the stairs and obliterated your spine! the right thing to do is let you go!" AHAHAHAHA GIRL GOT BPDDDD, SHES NOT GONNA LEAVE AHAHAHAHAHA I HATE MY LIFE

filler shit 🫶

chase walking patient for/to physical therapy, has to take her outside, so she can walk again. needs a freaking cane (yeah ik house... I see u..) patient asks if it's okay for her to smoke. Chase barely registers the question, but goes a little nuts when patient pulls a blunt from her bag. okie dokie cute scene of us getting stoned together :333

back inside! chase and house hallway/office scene. "you smell like teen spirit, chase" "what?" "pot, marijuana, weed, devils lettuce, yknow," "I'm not- I'm not high," "ofc u are!" "House-" "what, it's not my concern," Funish scene so cute so demure

cute chase/patient beside chat !

okay you can stop this fic here ORRRR, GO ON AMD FINISH OUT GLORYFIFING MY TRAUMA!!

--

woah scandal risky chase hooking up with a disabled patient in da hospital?! she got POTS!? she passed out during the act!? HOUSE WILL BE MADDDDD lol

and ofc she goes back to Logan!

okay yeah sorry, you don't have to write this obviously, but it'd be cool if you did thanks, sorry

I like the way you think, magic man.

"Inseparable" Part Five

“‘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.  

Send them in with your characters!!

~ I HATE YOU BUT I LOVE YOU ~ ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous request: hello I'm writing a lovers to enemies to lovers book but I really need some prompts bc I think there's too much bickering and not enough fluff 😭😭 pls help

Feel free to use and reblog!

saying one thing but meaning the other aka acting hateful but having loving feelings

^ "You're the worst person" *while being super gentle/caring with the other*

"I'd do everything to ensure that they don't get away with it." *literally helping them get away with it*

A: "Ugh, I hate [Person B] so much" C: "But they're so sweet and nice to you." A: "Yeah, exactly. That's so hateful of them."

the other person has always made their blood boil but it takes them a while to realise that the reasons have changed

how can someone be so aggravating and so arousing at the same time?

being mean and provoking upfront just to do nice and thoughtful things behind their back

*both bickering* *Person A suddenly going quiet and grinning at Person B* Person B: "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Person A: "Because you're just arguing so much with me because you like me." *Person B turning red*: "... nOo..."

realising their feelings for the other person but it just makes them meaner because they're overcompensating (after all, no one should know that they're actually in love with person B)

they have been very snippy and full of snide remarks towards person B but since they realised they have feelings for them their mind goes blank and they go mute in front of person B

avoiding the other person as they're enemies but full on ghosting them once they realise their own feelings for their enemy

trying to mask their feelings in the least obvious way: just openly telling them how they're feeling because they wouldn't believe it anyway

^ "Do you know that you actually have a special place in my heart? Oh, how I love and cherish you!" "Yeah, fuck you too!"

A: "Do you sometimes feel that the line between hate and love can be very thin?" B: "They are the strongest feelings after all. Maybe they're actually the same and it doesn't make a difference whether you hate or love."

A: "Stop messing with me! You could never love me!" B: "Oh, if only you knew! I hate how much I love you!"