"Patrick Hockstter SFW Alphabet" P. Hockstetter Oneshot

Hey, you should deffo do a BEN one. So like a one-shot with Y/N and BEN playing video games but he’s like glitching the game so she looses, and he’s super smug about it.

-your favorite ever ♥️

Ohhhh, for sure babes. I'll make it the best you've ever read.

It'll take a hot minute, tho. School and all that jizzy jazz. ❤️

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

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Summary: You and dabi are like magnets that like to stay far away from each other, except for when atoms align just right

Warnings: smoking, death threats

A/N: hiii 🤗🤗

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"Birthday" a. cameron Oneshot

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“Do you think House is gonna be mad at us?” Cameron questioned, attaching the blue birthday streamer up onto the ceiling.

“Probably.” I answered her while holding the chair she was standing on.

It was five in the morning and we had come into work early so that we could decorate for House’s birthday. Cameron thought it would be nice to try to celebrate it, and because I couldn’t say no to her, here we were. 

We set up all the decorations she bought, excluding the canes in wrapping paper that I bought because she thought it was insensitive to him, which I scoffed at. 

“Oh, come on! He’ll love them.”

“Absolutely not.”

She always enjoyed celebrating birthdays because she thought it was a nice reminder to the person that they’re important. And I loved her too much to tell her that he’d probably appreciate a couple of fancy cigars more than the decorations. 

“And we’re done!” Cameron got off the chair and looked at her handy work as I put the chair back in its place. I stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, putting my face in her neck and breathing in her faint perfume that smelled like fresh laundry.

She smiled and put her hands on my arms, rubbing her thumb on them. “I think he’ll like them.”

“Whatever you say, Alli.”

–

“What the hell is all of this?” House stood in front of the table where Chase, Foreman, and I sat, holding a yellow file in his hand.

“Well, a while ago you said that your birthday was going to be today, so I thought it’d be nice if me and Y/N decorated.” Cameron leaned against the counter, stirring her cup of coffee. 

House deadpanned at her, and then glanced over at me.

“Happy birthday, asshole.” I shrugged and took a sip of my own coffee. 

He shook his head and moved one of the balloons on the ground with his cane, throwing the folder on the table. 

“It would’ve been better if you two made a porno with each other and gave it to me.” House raised his eyebrows and grinned.

I rolled my eyes and looked at my pager when it beeped, telling me to go to Cuddy’s office to talk to her. I sighed and stood up, stretching my back. 

“Cuddy needs me, so I’ll catch up with the files when I’m done.” I inform House, walking over to Cameron.

“Bye, babe.” I kiss her goodbye, and she smiles and tells me good bye back.

“Now send me a compilation of that and I’ll be the happiest birthday boy alive.” House pulled out one of the chairs and sat on it, watching me walk past him.

“Me and my girlfriend aren’t sending you a porno anytime soon, Gregory.” I tightly smiled and winked at him, opening the door and leaving while Chase and Foreman snicker and laugh.

"Hot, Cheating Bastard" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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“No, because why would Jordan ask me to the movies if he isn’t going to ask me to be his girlfriend? Like, hello? Ask me out before trying to make plans with me, you feel me?” The dark haired girl licked at her melting ice cream as she looked at the other girl next to her, scoffing and bumping her arm.

“Y/N! Are you even listening to me?” Rosita yelled, and Y/N broke out of her trance. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout Mrs. Daire’s homework.” Y/N cleared her throat and looked away from the small cafe across from the ice cream shop where her and Rosita were eating their ice cream.

It was an awful hot day in Derry, and Rosita wanted to talk about the new guy she liked while cooling off. So, naturally they decided to have ice cream outside the shop while they did.

But Y/N wasn’t very present as Rosita complained about how Jordan wasn’t doing what she had hoped he would, and Rosita started to notice.

Rosita hummed suspiciously at Y/N as she tried to look at where she was looking, and she had found Y/N’s target. She gasped and whisper-yelled her name, which caused the girl to shush her quickly.

“Him? You’re into him?” Rosita said shocked, her mouth agape and not even caring about the ice cream dripping down her hand, “Of all the hot guys in this town, you choose Patrick Hockestetter?”

“Shut up, Rosie! And no, I don’t think of him that way!” Y/N knew she was lying to her best friend, and she felt bad for it. She always told Rosita about the boys she was seeing, but Patrick wasn’t one of them she could ever say.

Patrick and Y/N had been messing around for weeks, maybe even months, but there were no feelings in any of it. It was just a bit of fooling around when one of them would get bored, nothing else. They agreed to it.

But she knew she was slipping when she was watching Patrick at the cafe with Vivien, both of them laughing and enjoying their time together. Y/N and Patrick weren’t like that, ever.

He’d slip through her bedroom window, they’d sleep together, and they’d be done. Or she’d pull him into one of the alleyways behind the school, and then that was it. 

Y/N was jealous, no matter how much she hated to admit it. It only got worse when she saw Vivien kiss some of the pasta sauce off his cheek that they were eating at the cafe, and then kiss his lips.

Even though Patrick and Y/N had done so much with each other, he’d never kissed her. Y/N pursed her lips and looked at a confused Rosita, and apologized to her. 

“I’m sorry, but I need to go.” Y/N stood up abruptly and threw her ice cream out in one of the trash cans as she made her way over to Patrick, who had been making out with Vivien in public. Outside. For everyone to see.

Which was gross, but she was too blinded by her rage to care. Stomping her way to both of them, she smiled tightly at Patrick when he noticed her presence. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! Gosh, I haven’t seen you in like, forever. Oh my goodness, we need to catch up.” Vivien spoke to her cheerily, seemingly forgetting about Patrick.

Y/N sighed at her in pretend happiness and agreed, her right hand resting on her hip as she leaned against Vivien’s chair. 

“Yes, we really do! And I hate to be such a bother, but do you mind if I steal Patrick away? I really need him for a project Mrs. Daire’s making us do with partners, and I haven’t been able to reach him all day long.” She pouted, locking eyes with Patrick in anger. He looked at her the same way, obviously upset that she had interrupted. 

“Oh, of course. Patrick, we can pick this up later.” Vivien winked at him, and stood up. She said her farewells to both of them as Patrick and Y/N just stared at each other, not paying attention to her. When Vivien was out of their sight, Y/N grabbed Patricks hand and made him stand up.

“Pay the check, and come with me. Now.”

Y/N slammed Patrick’s car door when they both got in, and then blew up at him when he drove to a secluded spot in the park. 

“What the fuck, Patrick!?” She shouted, turning to face him fully. Patrick snorted at her, bringing his hand to his face to rub at his temple. 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” He had an amused look in his eyes, as though he expected this from her. 

“What am I talking about? What was that little date there? Huh? I thought we had something going?” Y/N interrogated him, becoming more and more outraged with every second. He had laughed maniacally then, throwing his head back and resting his hand on his stomach.

“Oh fuck, are you serious right now? You actually thought we were dating? You know we aren’t, right?” He spoke when he calmed down, and then wiped away the tears that had formed when he was laughing. Tears were forming in Y/N’s eyes, though, she had obviously not found the situation as funny as he did. 

“Yeah, Patrick. I did,” She was sniffling, and holding back the waterfalls that would be dripping down her cheeks soon. She looked down to her hands and fiddled with her rings, and she scoffed out a laugh. “I guess I thought you had actual human feelings too. Or at least enough to care about me.” 

Y/N let the tears fall and she wiped them away, shaking her head and reaching to pull the handle of the car to leave. When she did though, the car locked. She looked back at Patrick and then to his hand, where it sat on the lock button.

She grit her teeth and pulled up the lock clip and tried again. He grinned as he locked it again, and the exchange went on for a bit. She cursed him out each time, and then faced him.

“Let me out, Patrick!” She yelled at him, and noticed he had moved his seat to a lying position and that he had put his right arm underneath his head while smiling at her. 

“You done with your tantrum yet, dollface?” Patrick asked her mockingly, putting emphasis on the pet name that she hated so much. She groaned, threw her hands to her face and pulled them down, and then tried the door again. His left hand was still on the button, and he moved his other hand to readjust his jeans.

“We’re both not leaving here until we both get what we want.” He said matter-of-factly, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She looked at him in disbelief, and then to his pants, where there was a noticeable tent. 

“Oh, fuck you, Hockstetter.” Y/N spat out, frustrated with him. 

“That is the plan.” He watched her eye his jeans, and they both knew she couldn’t stay upset at him for long. She rolled her eyes, and moved over her seat to sit in his lap and she started to undo his belt. 

“If it helps you feel any better, you’re the only bitch in this Godforsaken town who gives good head. I don’t let anyone else put my cock in their mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Patrick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

"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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Hiiiii!!!! Could you write a little something with Wilson and house were Wilson is sick and house looks after him and is worried about Wilson so he moves in with him and gets him better and wilson teases him about how much he cares

I posted this one!

"surprise?" t. todoroki mha smau

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Summary: You just wanted to go to the gas station 😔

Warnings: language?, smoking

A/N: so I actually hate the dishes much more than I ever realized. this ones also kind of short

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giggling bc what did i find 😭😭

"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.  

"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.