Girl, will we have more Patrick FanFiction? I'm sorry, I really don't know if you're a girl or a boy.
Yes :)) And Im nonbinary! but the usage of girl did not bother me in this context
Patrick Hockstetter x Reader (smut)
Tw - dubious consent and Patrick as a general warning.
Ive Been Dying To Tell You Anything You Want To Hear
You didn't interact with Patrick Hockstetter often, despite being in a relationship with Vic for the better part of two years. It wasn't an issue, but sometimes you wondered why Vic brought you around Henry and Belch more often than him.
Patrick didn't seem much different than the others. Of course, in your time going to the same school as him, you had heard plenty about him, both good and bad. But anytime you had personally interacted with him, it had been mostly normal, and hell, he even seemed quite polite. A bit teasing maybe, but generally fine.
You easily came to the conclusion that Patrick could be a nice guy.
Still, you almost never saw him past brief hellos and passing him in the halls. He didn't treat you like just Vic's girlfriend, making sure to always greet you separately and to wave to you when you saw him, even if you were alone. You couldn't help feeling a bit curious about him, but Vic tended to brush off your questions when you asked.
Lately, Vic had been brushing you off a lot, if you were honest. He had tried to explain it away with the pressure of applying to colleges, his parents on his ass about grades, and anything else of the sort. And it wasn't that you didn't believe him, but at the same time, a part of you couldn't. You willed that part to shut up.
You tried to be understanding, giving him extra time to study and helping where you could. He would give you an easy smile every time, kissing you softly to ease your concern and then disappearing again.
It was about a month into this routine when you found yourself eating lunch alone for the first time. Vic had to study, and he didn't want to be distracted, so you took your lunch to the field.
You were beginning to hate how often he threw himself into the books, but at the end of the day, you knew how hard on him his parents were. When it came to him getting into a good college, they became overbearing, and you didn't blame him for doing everything he could.
“Lunch alone? That's sad~”
Your eyes darted up to Patrick, who was standing tall and looking down at you where you sat. His voice was calm and almost curious as you tried to hide how much he had caught you off guard.
“Yeah well, Vic's busy, and the cafeteria is loud.” You offered him a small shrug, going back to your sandwich. He remained, which wasn't what you were expecting, but you didn't particularly care.
He watched you for a bit, uncomfortably silent as you continued eating. “You like watching me eat or something?” Your words were soft, like you were attempting to joke with him but unsure how he'd react. He snorted.
“It happens to be a good pass time.” he shrugged, and you smiled at that. After your last bite, you sat your tray to the side, leaning back against the grass. You two didn't really converse, but you ended up enjoying his presence anyhow. It was just nice to have someone there.
It ended up becoming an almost daily routine. Vic would be too busy to have lunch with you, and he would give you a quick kiss and an apology before taking off. You'd bring your lunch to the farthest part of the field, and at some point, Patrick would show up. You never invited him, but he showed up without fail every time.
He never brought food, though.
Sometimes you would talk, sometimes you sat in complete silence and he just stayed while you ate. When you did talk, it was casual. You'd discuss classes, after-school plans and the likes. He’d ask if you’d noticed how Vic was barely around once. The question felt almost pointed, but he didn't actually let you answer before moving on.
The small conversations got more frequent as the routine continued. They got longer, and now and then, they'd get borderline deep. Patrick wasn't big on sharing, but he provided a sympathetic ear when you would complain. About grades, about family shit and eventually about Vic's absence as of late.
It took about a month and a half for him to do any opening up.
The day had seemed relatively normal. Vic had kissed your cheek (not even your lips, but that was becoming normal), leaving to study something he had explained and you had barely heard. You had gotten lunch and went to the same spot as every other day. Halfway through eating, Patrick appeared, standing next to where you sat and looking down at you.
“I just, I don't know. Vic feels so distant. It almost feels like he's barely a friend anymore. Shit I see you more than him. You're more consistent, at least.” The words were a bit harsh, and maybe it wasn't the right thing to say to one of Vic’s best friends. But by that point, you had started to see Patrick more as your friend than anything else.
Patrick raised both brows, pressing his lips together in a tight line. His expression unnerved you to some degree.
For a moment, you wondered if you'd been too forward. If his loyalties would have him telling Vic what you'd said and getting you dumped. But he didn't look mad or even remotely upset. Just deep in thought.
Then slowly, he sunk down into the grass, sitting beside you for the first time. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, watching you in complete silence for a moment. Then he sighed, the sound soft.
“You're like a really good person, and I don't enjoy seeing you upset.” He mumbled, voice awkward but completely steady. “Vic's one of my best friends, and I love him, but what he's doing isn't right.” You felt your entire body tense up at Patrick's words, and there was a hard lump in your throat, keeping you from responding.
Patrick watched you closely, like he was waiting for permission to continue, or like he expected you to cut him off, maybe.
The statement hit like a slap across the face. Like something you already knew but were so desperate to be wrong about. You stared at Patrick, but he didn't flinch.
“It's been going on for a bit, some chick in his calculus class.” He informed. His voice was firm, leaving no room for debate. “He asked me to keep you busy, but the more we hang out, the less I want to deceive you.” His words came out casually, like he was discussing the weather.
“Oh.” It was all you could manage.
You'd given Vic everything, and even though you didn't feel as shocked as you should have, it still hurt a bit to know he would do this. That he wouldn't man up and dump you.
Patrick hummed, tapping his fingers against the ground. “Sorry, I thought it'd be better if you knew now.. rather than later.” He explained, though he really didn't sound sorry.
“No, no. I am glad you told me I just-” You sighed, long and hard as you dragged your hands down your face. “It's weird, I almost feel relieved.” You admitted. He tilted his head slightly, silently questioning your words.
“Like, I felt like something was wrong and knowing feels better than wondering.” A tear rolled down your cheek, but you didn't really feel sad. After literal months of distance and trying to keep yourself from wondering about his ‘studying’ it was like you had already had time to grieve.
Patrick leaned a bit closer, not touching you but focusing intently on your face. “You're crying.” He noted, and you gave a weak nod before rubbing your sleeve against your eyes. You turned away slightly, feeling uneasy at the way he watched you.
Maybe you were embarrassed to cry in front of him like this. He continued to look at you, and you could feel his eyes against the back of your head.
“You deserve a lot better than some asshole who lies to you and spends no time with you.” He said plainly. You leaned back until you were staring at the sky, processing his words. What he said was true. You knew that.
And you couldn't help but think about the fact that Patrick had shown up every day without fail even though you offered nothing. You weren't his girlfriend. You never shared your food. Most of your deeper talks were him listening to you vent. But he still came.
You did your best to shove those thoughts away, knowing they were probably irrational. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself and impulsively throw yourself at him.
Ok. So it wasn't the last thing you wanted, but that was probably just the high emotions talking.
“Thanks.” The word came out low and cautious, and your chest felt tight. When you finally sat up and turned back to Patrick, he was smiling. It was a small grin, showing a bit of teeth, and you blushed.
“You're pretty, ya know. Vic's a real dumbass.” He added, and holy shit you could feel your heart slamming against your ribs.
“You think so?” You weren't sure if the shakiness of your voice was a dead giveaway, but the more he smiled, the less you cared. Sure, this was your soon to be ex-boyfriend's best friend, but said soon to be ex was a prick. Why should you care?
Patrick leaned a bit closer, and you couldn't tell if it was intentional, but you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Yeah, I do. You have nice eyes.” He said it with such certainty that you could melt. And before you could really even think to stop yourself, you had leaned a bit closer. Enough to feel his breath ghost your lips.
You kissed him, and most of the stress you'd been feeling simply vanished. He didn't pull away, and after a second, his lips moved against yours, and his hand found your face. After a moment, you pulled back, cheeks flushed.
“Sorry, I.. I don't know what that was.” Your words slipped out alongside a nervous chuckle. He raised a brow.
“You don't have to be sorry. I like a girl who takes what she needs.” He sounded sweet, and his hand remained softly against your cheek. “And it definitely seems like you needed that.”
His words were so gentle, encouraging even. It made something in you break, and you found yourself agreeing with him. You were deprived at this point, Vic's distance turning you needy. You absolutely needed this right now.
You didn't really need more encouragement than that, grabbing at his shoulders and dragging him back in. This kiss was heavier, like you wanted to suffocate him.
He kissed back just as hard, adding the tongue and teeth that you'd been a bit too shy to add yourself. His free hand slid down to your side, and he pulled you closer to him. You were practically in his lap, and he held you nice and tight as he took the lead.
This kiss was long and hot. Every break for breath was a gasp of fresh air before being eaten alive again.
His hands wandered, touching and feeling, learning your body quicker than they should have. And when they slipped past the hem of your jeans, despite being fully in the open, you found yourself letting him continue. You didn't know what you were doing anymore, and maybe your mind should have still been on Vic. But the way Patrick bit at your bottom lip eased any concern.
“Fuck, you really needed this.” The words were hot against your lips, and you felt your entire body flush when you realized what prompted them. You hadn't even noticed when he got your pants around your ankles. Or when his hand had slipped under your panties to feel just how soaked you were. It was only slightly humiliating.
He gave you no chance to revel in the shame, pushing the fabric of your panties down to meet your jeans and exposing you completely. You turned your face away from him, feeling the heat rise to your shoulders and neck.
His free hand found your chin, forcing you to look back at him. “Turn off your brain and enjoy this. You're thinking too hard.” The words felt soft, but there was a sharp, demanding edge to them that made you tense up. You kept your eyes on his, the way he wanted.
After a moment, he released your chin, smiling when you didn't try to move your face again. His hand slid back down between your thighs, and he didn't give you any warning before slipping two fingers inside of you.
You back arched, and you gripped at the grass beneath you, but you kept your gaze locked on him. The stretch was sudden, and your voice caught in your throat as he began to thrust his fingers, slow and deliberate. Every curl had your hips twitching in his lap, showing him how well he could handle your body.
You came undone embarrassingly quick, clenching around his fingers and making a small noise that sounded like a pained whimper. Patrick just pulled his hand back slightly, wiping it off and undoing his jeans. He laughed under his breath. His laugh only made you feel more ashamed, and you knew it showed in your expression.
“Aww, don't be shy. It's not your fault Vic didn't know what to do with you, leaving you all desperate.” He was trying to be comforting, you were sure, but his words only served to make you feel worse. If he noticed, he didn't say anything.
He was quick to get his jeans and boxers pushed down on his hips, just enough to free himself without fumbling. You felt yourself tense as he adjusted himself, settling between your thighs. Everything suddenly felt a lot more intense, and maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore you could hear voices down the hill. Not close enough to see, but enough to cause worry.
“There's people.” You mumbled, unsure if that was the only reason you wanted to stop. Patrick paused, listened for a moment, and rolled his eyes slightly.
“Then try to be quiet.” He held your hips in place. “You want this, right?”
You stared at him, holding your breath. “I don't know,” it was a small, fragile admission, and he sighed in response. His hands slid from your hips to your thighs, gripping slightly and rubbing at the skin.
“You do,” He answered for you. “Wouldnt have let me touch you like that if you didn't." He continued rubbing your thighs, holding you in what was almost a comforting way.
You didn't know what to say or think, but after a beat of silence, you gave a small nod. That nod was all he needed, pressing forward and leaning in, face against your throat as you stretched around him.
“Fuck, you're tight.” The words were hot against your skin as he moved slowly. “I knew you'd feel perfect.” He barely gave you time to adjust, his thrusts turning sharp and greedy right away. Your hands left the grass, moving to grab at the back of his shoulders and gripping fists full of his shirt.
Maybe Patrick was right. Maybe this is what you wanted, what you needed. Some attention that was solely on you. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't feel good. Before you knew it, the distant voices had faded away, and the only things you could hear were Patrick's rough breathing and the slick sounds of skin on skin as he rocked his hips against yours.
Eventually, you stopped thinking about it all together, like a fog had taken over your brain. Your hips moved to meet his, and small moans fell from your lips, like music to his ears.
Your grip became harsh as his movements picked up. His grip on your thighs would probably leave bruises, and his teeth dragged along your neck, teasing. The sounds grew louder. Moaning, panting, and flesh against flesh as his thrusts began to lose their rhythm.
“Not inside-” it took far too much effort to push those words out, and he didn't react to them at all. He stayed with his face buried in your throat, thighs tensing.
He did pull out. It was as close to the line as he could get it, but he managed to pull back just in time to cum on your inner thigh. Relief washed over you as you pulled your hands away from his shoulders, laying on your side and trying to catch your breath. He caught his much quicker.
You watched quietly, practically panting as he got to his feet, yanking his jeans and boxers up and dusting them off. He glanced down at you, smirking at the sight.
Pants and panties around your ankles, legs spread slightly, used body on fully display and cum splattered across your thigh. He nudged your leg with his foot, chuckling at the way you jerked.
“You should probably fix yourself up before someone sees you.” His voice was low and empty. “I might see you again if I get bored, but don’t make me work so hard for it next time, yeah?” With that, he walked away, and you felt completely frozen.
After a minute of that sick and nauseous feeling you sighed and began to clean yourself up, an uncomfortable pit growing in your stomach the more you thought about what had happened. You were left with one looming question.
Where the fuck did you go from there?
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This one has been consuming my mind forever. I hope I wrote toxic, manipulative ass Patrick well. It's definitely meant to be up to interpretation if Vic actually cheated. My beta is still down for the count, so again. Point out mistakes if you see them. Feel free to make requests for Patrick, Henry, Ace or Eyeball (both from stand by me), and I swear I'll do my best to actually fufill them!
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