Hi,

"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.

"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.

"The Wrong Kind of Jealousy" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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Summary: A break up leaves Y/N heartbroken and feeling awful, and Patrick doesn't like it. He's the only one who should make you feel like shit, and he's determined to prove he can be worse than your boyfriend.

Warnings: Vulgar language, break up, kind of non-con, choking, passing out, dacryphilia, classroom setting, almost fingering, use of "slut."

A/N: My bad guys, I got botox up my bladder so I haven't gotten to my Wips 😭 Here's my apology, please don't burn my house down.

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“Aiden, please! I didn’t know he’d ask me out, I thought he was just being friendly.” You sobbed, breath raspy and scattered. 

You had met a guy named Donnie in your science class while you were taking a test. He had asked for answers since he was new to the school and didn’t know much, and being the people pleaser you were, you gave them to him. 

He asked for your number after and said that he’d give you the answers to the upcoming math test as a thank you, and you didn’t think anything of it. 

You two started talking, and became friends over the few weeks you knew each other. Of course, nobody ever has kind intentions anymore, and he called you, asking you out on a date while you were making food in your kitchen. Since your boyfriend Aiden went to a different school, the two had never met. And he picked up the phone before you could.

“Does that really fucking matter?” He raised his voice at you and you flinched. He’d never gotten so upset over things like this, so it hurt to hear him yell.

You had a plethora of guy friends; many that he was also friends with. So why was he so angry now?

“You never thought to tell him about me? About us?” Aiden threw his hands on his head and laughed. He was pissed.

“I didn’t think about it, it seemed innocent!” You couldn’t recall the last time you had to defend yourself like this to someone over anything because you were an honest person.

He shook his head and ran his hands down his face, inhaling deeply. “I should’ve known you were gonna cheat on me. Nobody’s that perfect.” 

“Aiden-”

“You’re a slut, Y/N. I should’ve fucking known. We’re done.” He growled, grabbing his jacket off of the counter and aiming towards the door.

“Aiden, please wait.” Tears fell down your face as you tried to reason with him. You loved Aiden, and you didn’t want to see him go. 

“I don’t wanna fucking see you again.” Aiden slammed the door behind him, leaving you to cry in your kitchen.

–

Two days passed, and you were miserable. You cut it off with Donnie, and you hadn’t seen or heard from Aiden since that night. It was lunch and you were at school, eating your meal in an empty classroom, sitting on one of the desks. You’d usually eat with Aiden and talk about anything, but now it was quiet and lonely. 

Holding your sandwich up to your mouth, you were about to take a bite when the door opened.

It was Patrick Hockstetter. The bane of your very existence.

He was such an asshole, and you hated him. He’d grope you, call you names, sometimes even hurt you if you two were alone. You had brought it up to Aiden a couple of times, but he’d always dismiss it, saying he did it to everybody and that you weren’t special.

You never had sex with Aiden, and he never saw you naked, so he also never saw any of the marks Patrick would leave on you. Burn scars from lighters and cigarettes, bruises, cuts, the initials he carved under your belly button. The hickeys.

You never thought it counted as cheating since you never reciprocated anything Patrick would do, and you never told Aiden about it in fear that he’d break up with you for it. But you knew deep, deep down, that you were cheating.

Because a sick, sick, part of you liked it.

Aiden was never rough with you when making out. He treated you like fine China, which you were thankful for. But he never went further, not like Patrick would.

Aiden would kiss you softly, never pressing too hard on your lips. Patrick would make you choke on his tongue and bite your lips, making you bleed every time. 

You hated him, and everything he did. But sometimes you’d look at your scars and remember how awful it felt, and you’d get hot and red in the face.

“Figured your cunt would be in here.” Grinning, he slipped through the crack in the door and closed it, locking it behind him. You shivered, knowing that you weren’t going to leave the classroom without some kind of wound. 

“What do you want?” You croaked out, voice hoarse from crying. You put the sandwich back in your lunch bag and crossed your arms over your chest, regretting the tight white shirt and pastel pink skirt you wore today. 

Patrick snickered at your poor attempt to cover yourself and he turned the lights off, making the only light in the room be from the cracks in the blinds that covered the windows. 

“What do you think I want?” It was only then that you noticed the blood from his nose, and the blood on his hands. Usually you’d never think anything of it, but you were somewhat worried.

Patrick never liked Aiden. He hated how much attention Aiden took from you, and he made sure you knew. He hated how upset you’d get when you remembered a date you two would have to go on, especially right after he’d make you suck him off.

You’d be a complete mess, mascara running down your face, lip gloss smudged, hair sticking up everywhere, drool on your chin, and your clothes would be ruined.

He liked you better when you looked that way and begged him to stop. He made sure to take a picture once, and when he couldn’t see you, he’d jerk off to it.

Patrick loved when you looked ruined, but you always wanted to look put together for Aiden.

“Patrick, what’s on your hands?” You asked shakily, eyes trained to his blood soaked fingers. 

Patrick tutted and started a slow stride to the desk you were on. “You know, Aiden was never a good choice for ya’, toots.”

You crossed your left leg over your right and your skirt rode up your thighs, and Patrick licked his lips.

“I mean, he always controlled what you did. You couldn’t go anywhere without him. And you surely wouldn’t be wearing that skirt if you two were still together.” He stopped in front of you, and put his right hand on your left knee, and his other on your calf.

He uncrossed your legs and stepped between them, removing his hands and placing them on the desk.

Patrick’s eyes never strayed from yours, and you were shaking. 

“What did you do?” You caught your breath and questioned him, fear evident all over your face.

“You never cried for me as much as you did a couple nights ago for him.” Patrick’s face held no emotion, and you had no idea what was happening inside his mind.

It filled you with dread.

“Patrick, please.” His right hand moved from the desk and he placed it up your left thigh, moving it under your skirt. His left hand went around your throat, and his fingers placed themselves skillfully against the sides of your neck.

He squeezed, hard, and slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear, pulling them back and snapping the elastic back onto your skin.

You yelped, and it took away most of your oxygen. Patrick’s fingers teased down your leg and to the back of your knee, leaving a trail of blood as it went.

You didn’t ask him, but you knew it was Aiden’s. You didn’t want to know what happened to him.

You were hyperventilating now, taking in any air that you could. Patrick would lessen his grip every now and then so you wouldn’t pass out, but then he’d tighten it again. The process repeated until you were wailing, and your hands were clawing at his.

His right hand was resting on your thigh again, and would etch up closer to your groin whenever he’d let go a bit. You were full on sobbing, and you looked perfect to him.

Mascara down your face, red marks on your neck that would surely leave a perfect blue and purple handprint later. You were trembling underneath his touch, and he loved it. 

Aiden could never make you cry like he could, and Patrick carried that pride with him. 

You tried to beg him to stop, but your words were broken and you could barely keep yourself conscious. Black spots dotted your vision, and you kept thrashing against him. 

He had never gone so far when choking you, and he’d usually leave you with some air. But he didn’t now, no matter what you did.

Patrick’s fingers climbed up into your underwear, and he smirked when he saw the fear in your wet, drowning eyes. Two fingers touched your entrance, and he dragged them up and down, pinching at your clit.

You’d never been more terrified as to what Patrick was going to do next, but you never found out. He squeezed your throat much harder, completely blocking your windpipe from getting any form of oxygen. 

The black spots took control of your vision, and you went limp in his hands. Your legs stopped kicking, your hands fell to your sides. Your head lolled back, and your face relaxed. 

Patrick hummed and let go of your neck, letting you fall back on the desk. He made sure your pulse was still beating, and his fingers went into your entrance with no more resistance. 

Aiden could never make you feel anything like he could.

Hello me again could you do something with negan where he is just so soft with his gf after she has a bad dream. Or something like that

And he just rocks her to sleep in his arms and brush his fingers through her hair

A/N: Tried my best to make it sweet, hope you like it!

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Thunder echoed against the sanctuary walls as lightning guided her way down the halls. She was having rough sleep for days, the same damn dream haunted her when she closed her eyes.

She’d run, run, and run, but she’d never go anywhere. Someone would hold her still at the end, and then whatever was chasing her would kill her.

She didn’t know what to do, or who to go to for nightmares. She thought about going to Eugene to see if he’d make her some kind of pill, but the idea of explaining to him why she couldn’t sleep made her cringe.

It seemed childish to be kept awake for something so stupid, so she held back. But now, after having the same outcome for five restless nights, she decided to do something about it.

It wasn’t the greatest idea, and it was her last resort, but she needed some kind of comfort.

Hearing the soft padding of her own feet made her a bit anxious, even though she shouldn’t be. After the world went to shit, she found the sanctuary and took refuge there for a bit.

But since Negan liked her so much, she stayed. He asked her to be one of his wives, and after weeks of arguments and screaming matches, they both compromised on her being his girlfriend instead. 

Now here she was, standing outside of Negan’s bedroom door in her pajamas, playing with her fingers. She had no reason to be nervous, they were dating for fucks sake.

But a small feeling inside of her felt scared he might judge her. She was embarrassed to be scared of what was in her head, but she didn’t know what else to do.

She softly knocked twice on the door, waiting for a response. All she got was a few grumbles and rustling before the door swung open.

“This better be fucking good-” Negan opened the door and tilted his head when he saw his girlfriend, “The hell are you doin’ up? ‘Thought you went to bed two fucking hours ago.”

“Can I come in please?” She mumbled, not daring to meet his eyes. 

A couple seconds of silence overcame the both of them before Negan opened the rest of the door and nodded for her entrance. She walked in and took in the room around her, and Negan closed the door and leaned against it in front of her. 

“What’s up with you?” He crossed his arms and watched her bite her lip and look at the ground.

“I don’t wanna talk about it…Can we just.. chill out?” She finally looked at him, tears forming in her bright eyes. Negan stared at her before taking pity and making his way to his bed. She stood there until he spoke up.

“You gonna get in or what?” He lifted the blanket to make room for her and she smiled, getting comfortable next to him. 

He sighed and turned off the lamp on the bedside table, darkness enveloping them both. She curled up into his chest and listened to him breathe, counting his heartbeats over and over.

“Do I get to know what’s got you so stuck in this dumpster fire or what?” Negan's voice rumbled out his throat, and he placed his hand on the low of her back, rubbing his thumb in circles on it.

“Had a bad dream.” She mumbled, burying her face deeper into him. It was now that she noticed he had no shirt on and only wore his sweatpants. 

“Wanna explain it to me?” Negan hummed, putting his chin on her head. She shook her head and he sighed, kissing her forehead.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He reached his hand up and ran it through her soft hair, carefully making sure it didn’t get caught in his fingers. “We’ve got a long ass day tomorrow.”

It only took a couple of minutes for Negan to hear his girlfriend’s soft snores as she laid on his chest, and he smiled slightly.

Whatever was keeping her awake obviously left her mind the minute she settled down, and now they both listened to each other’s breathing, comfortable in the presence of one another.

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!!

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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.

-Grand Masterlist- (In Progress)

*-Character Requests-*

-Series-

"Inseparable" Patrick Hockstetter/Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Ticci Toby/Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

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*The Walking Dead*

"Running from Nightmares" n. smith Oneshot

"His Girls" n. smith Oneshot

"Accidents Happen" n. smith/simon Oneshot

"Boo Boos" simon Oneshot

*House MD*

"Rsv" g. house/j. wilson Oneshot

"Birthday" a. cameron Oneshot

*IT (2017-2019)*

"Hot, Cheating Bastard" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"Broken A/C" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"Prom Gone Wrong" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"Sweltering" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"The Wrong Kind of Jealousy" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"NSFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"SFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot

"Mr. Mechanic" p. hockstetter Oneshot

*Creepypasta*

"Cheating" BEN_Drowned Oneshot

"Trigger of Love- JAWNY" t. rogers Oneshot (First Ever Post, Beware)

*MHA*

"weed or us?" "weed!" t. todoroki SMAU

"fine asf" t. todoroki SMAU

"chivalry isn't dead ig" t. todoroki SMAU

"surprise?" t. todoroki SMAU

"together 💕" t. todoroki SMAU

"on the run" t. todoroki SMAU

"fuckass picture" t. todoroki SMAU

"well damn" k. bakugo SMAU

"i don't hate you" k. bakugo SMAU

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*WIP'S*

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© bked0n-lorazepam Do not repost, translate, or alter my work without permission. All rights reserved.

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been a boner since I've had my first boner 🙋 (I have a coinslot)

true BONERS will reblog 👊👊👊

Give me 10 minutes with him alone in a room and one of us will come out pregnant (it's gonna be him)

"together 💕" t. todoroki mha smau

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Summary: you, dabi, and my queen toga have plans you can't discuss or the haters will sabotage you 😈

Warnings: language, the usual smoking, you're finally in a relationship‼️

A/N: so so eepy

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"Patrick Hockstetter NSFW Alphabet" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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

Off to it!

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

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

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

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

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum)

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

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

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

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

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

F= Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J= Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

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

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

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

L= Location (Favorite places to have sex)

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

M= Motivation (What turns them on?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

U= Unfair (How much they like to tease)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Z= Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

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