Latest Posts by bked0n-lorazepam - Page 2

hey yall, my friend js started doing requests too! send in an ask for her and she'll do it 😋

Heyyy!

hey guys! So I’m thinking of writing on tumblr (I use ao3) so here’s what I’ll write for.

Creepypasta IT 2018

SDV

JATP

and many more. I kinda just pulled those out of my ass lol. Just request and I’ll tell you if I can do it :)

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

true BONERS will reblog 👊👊👊

"Sweltering" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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Summary (Smut): Y/N and Patrick are placed as partners on their senior camp trip for Derry high-school. Regrets are thought after Patrick convinced her to place their tent further away from the others, and when their fans die in the middle of the night in the awful Derry heat.

Warnings: Vulgar language, dubious consent, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, camping, in a tent. Patrick and Reader are 18 and seniors!

A/N: Sorry guys, motivation kind of went out the window for my WIP's and I can't think when I try to write them, so here's this apology while I wait for my writer's block to end!

Smut under the cut!!

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It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a ‘going away’ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each other’s distaste.

There was an odd amount of people on the trip, and when Y/N was told that the other student was going to join her group of three and that she’d have to be with Patrick, she groaned.

–

“Do I have to? What have I done to deserve this?” She begged her councilor to change the groups.

“Ms. L/N, you’re the perfect student, and he isn’t. We’re hoping that maybe while on this trip, you can influence him in some kind of way. Please, you can still hang out with your past group, you just need to stick with him as well.” Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes. 

All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasn’t the greatest student, so they always paired her and him together when they could. Projects and presentations, hell, they even made her his tutor. She hated how much time out of her life he took up, and he hated how much of his she took up.

“Fucking, fine. Whatever.” Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.

She heard a faint ‘language’ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.

“So, we’re buddies again. Huh, toots?” Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus. 

“Guess so,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname he gave her when they met, and pulled his hand that was slowly moving to her ass off of her. “Don’t fuck this trip up.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

–

Patrick did not, in fact, think about it.

He somehow convinced her to set up their tent further away from the others, and the fans that they were given on the bus had died. They were both sweating and kicked off their blankets, and now they laid on their sleeping bags. 

“I hate you.” Y/N panted, using the safety folder as a fan. She was wearing a dark green tank top and sweatpants on, and she was sweltering. 

“Mutual feelings.” Patrick responded, laying on his back with his arms behind his head. He took his shirt off and was wearing his black boxers, even though Y/N complained about him taking off his pants.

She knew she couldn’t say much, though, having taken off her bra earlier in the night because of how uncomfortable it was. She also knew that he was staring at her breasts half the time, but she didn’t bring it up. He’d do it if she had a sweater on, too.

Y/N stopped fanning herself for a moment and stared at the wall of the tent in front of her, and Patrick looked over at her.

“What?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She set down the folder and stood up as he stared at her, watching her every movement.

She glanced at him and caught his eyes before looking away quickly and reaching her fingers into her waistband. Pulling off her pants, she stood there in her black lace panties, bare to Patrick’s eyes.

“Thought you were gonna get some?” Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.

“Yeah, from Taylor.” She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.

She’ll admit, she was hoping that she’d end up getting a tent with Taylor because she thought he was hot, but now she was stuck with Patrick. Who was kind of attractive.

But also really attractive.

Patrick hummed and watched her again before a large grin grew on his face. He sat up from his sleeping bag and crawled over to her when she closed her eyes, and he covered her mouth with his hand when she yelped in surprise. 

“Patrick, what the fuck!” She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.

“Shut up and enjoy this.” He sneered and slid his hands up and down her body.

Y/N gasped and grabbed his shoulders when his hands cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. She’d had sex before, but they were all asses who never thought of foreplay, so naturally, she was sensitive.

He smiled at her reactions and continued to pinch them, leaning in to kiss her neck when she threw her head back and moaned. He kissed and nipped all over her neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips touched.

She bucked her hips up into his when he found her sweet spot, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair while he sucked at it.

“Patrick, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/N panted heavily. She didn’t want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.

They shouldn’t be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didn’t care.

All he did was move further down her neck and kiss her collarbone before lifting her shirt over her breasts and attaching his lips to them.

She moaned, loudly, and reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Patrick laughed and sucked all over her smooth skin, his hands now moving down her hips, to the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck, stop. We can’t do this.” Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didn’t do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.

She knew he wouldn’t listen, though, so she didn’t know why she was even trying.

His hands ghosted over her underwear to the inside of her thighs, and he rubbed the soft flesh. He pinched her and she whined, him smiling once again. 

Patrick slowly moved his hand up to where she wanted him most, and he ran a finger up her groin as she thrusted her hips towards it.

“Patrick, please.” Y/N didn’t even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didn’t, it didn’t matter to her anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling good.

His fingers moved her underwear to the side and he ran a finger through her folds once again, detaching himself from her nipple.

He stared her in the eyes and brought the finger to his lips, sucking off the mess she left on them. 

“Patrick, please!”

His fingers moved skillfully and he kissed her, his middle finger plunging into her entrance all the way to his knuckle. She moaned loudly once again, but this time his mouth caught it. He stretched her out, and when he thought she was ready, he put his index finger in with it.

Y/N moved her hips with his fingers, trying to match the speed he was going at. It didn’t help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldn’t, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.

“Please, Patrick,” She whimpered, “‘M so close!”

He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. “Go ahead.”

She cried out and clenched around his fingers, her hips finally being able to match his speed and rhythm. He let her ride out her high before he took his fingers away and moved down, licking up what was left on his fingers and her cunt.

When he was done, he sucked at her clit harshly, and she cursed out and tugged his hair away from her.

He sat up and wiped away what was on his chin, sucked at her sternum until he left a hickey, and pulled her shirt down.

Patrick palmed at his boxers and then kissed her before rolling over next to her, reassuming his position with his arm behind his head. 

“When I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.” He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. M’kay, I guess.”

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!"

Hello could you do something where negan's girlfriend is in labour and his by her side supporting her and being so loving and when the baby comes (which is a girl) he crys and it's the first time his gf sees him cry and he promises his daughter that he will be a better man and an amazing dad to her

"His Girls" n. smith Oneshot

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Summary (Fluff): While Negan's girlfriend goes through labor, he comforts her and does his best to make her feel loved. When the baby comes, he cries and promises to do his best and be an amazing dad to her.

Warnings: Vulgar language, pregnancy, labor, pet names (Sweetheart, honey, baby), "daddy" is used as a joke

A/N: Hey! I'm trying to find a new set up to organize my works, so tell me what you guys think about this way. I hope this work is what you were asking for!!

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“Fucking feed me!” Negan’s girlfriend screamed, tightly holding onto the man’s hand as he winced in pain.

She’d been in labor for eight hours, and was only dilated by seven centimeters. Even though Dr. Carson specialized in pregnancies, he didn’t have what he needed at the sanctuary, so he couldn’t help her speed up the process. It was up to her body to go through with her labor, and it was going slowly. 

Negan sat next to her on their bed while Carson was filling up a syringe of a painkiller. He felt like his hand was going to break with how tight Y/N was holding it, but he knew he couldn’t complain. A watermelon sized baby was coming out of her vagina, for fuck’s sake.

“I know, honey. But you can’t, not yet.” He told her and reached their conjoined hands up, kissing the back of hers. He pursed his lips together after and watched as Carson took her arm and injected the painkiller into her.

“It won’t stop all the pain, but it’ll help a bit.” Dr. Carson reassured her and threw out the needle.

Negan grimaced and closed his eyes, listening to his girlfriend yell and scream. He hated how much this hurt her, and hated how he knew she felt throughout the entire pregnancy.

When they first found out, they were overjoyed. It was an amazing feeling, knowing that they would bring a life that they would share into their family.

It was only until after a few months where the pregnancy was taking an obvious toll on Y/N.

She never felt clean enough, and never felt good enough. When Carson ordered her on bed rest, she was absolutely pissed. 

–

“Sweetheart, you need to rest. Go lay down.” Negan had sighed and ran a hand through his hair, watching her tie her shoes.

“No, I’m going on this run. I’m sick of being cooped up in here, it’s miserable and I feel useless.”

–

They’d get into arguments all the time about how she needed to lay down and take things slow, even though she never listened. They’d always end with her in tears and them laying down together while he comforted her.

“Negan, I don’t want to do this anymore. Make it stop, please.” Y/N cried out and gripped the bed sheets tightly. He kissed her forehead and then her lips.

“I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it.” He encouraged her and nodded. She nodded back before throwing her head back in pain and shouting out curses at the top of her lungs.

“I see the head!”

–

Y/N cooed at her new born daughter, rubbing her finger against her cheek. She was so beautiful, with a head full of brown hair and her big brown eyes that stared curiously back into Y/N’s.

“You’re gorgeous.” Y/N whispered and smiled. 

“D’You mind if Negan comes back in?” Dr. Carson asked her while packing up his medical supplies, having kicked out Negan when the baby was on its way so that he wasn’t in the way.

Y/N shook her head at Carson and he stood up, opening the door and calling for the man. Negan immediately came in and smiled at the sight of both of his girls.

“Hey.” He whispered, walking over to them. Carson left the room and closed the door, leaving the new family to themselves.

“Come here.” Y/N gestured him over and held her daughter out for Negan to hold.

He took her in his arms and grinned, cooing at her as Y/N did before. His daughter reached her small arm out of her blanket and grabbed at his nose and he laughed, carefully using his other hand to hold hers. He kissed it and she gripped his finger with her tiny ones.

“She looks just like her father.” Y/N said from her place on the bed as she witnessed the adorable exchange and took a drink of water from the cup that Carson placed on the bed stand.

Negan chuckled and stared into his daughter's eyes as she did his. “Now I’ve got two girls callin’ me daddy.”

“Fucking Christ, Negan.” His girlfriend snorted and ran her hands down her face.

They sat in silence for a few moments as Negan thought of all things he was going to do with his daughter.

He’d teach her how to cook, ride a bike, dress her up, take her on walks around the sanctuary. Maybe teach her how to play baseball, if Y/N allows him too. 

Knowing he now had his own mini-him in his arms made him want to cry, and it wasn’t until Y/N asked him if he was okay that he noticed he was. The warm feeling went down his face and fell down his neck, and he sniffled.

“I’m going to be the best man…that you will ever know. I’m gonna take care of you, and I’m gonna make sure you get everything I never had.” He leaned in and pecked her tiny forehead, her hand still holding his finger. 

“Yes, you will.” Y/N stared lovingly at Negan and their daughter, her own tears falling down her face. 

It was then that she knew she had picked the right man, and that she was in the right place. Everything was perfect in that moment, and they were going to be the perfect family. 

“I’m gonna name you Negan Junior.”

“Absolutely not.”

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!

--

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.

guys we need new names for ticci toby. it's the name his bullies used to use and it low key is really tacky. 😭

drop suggestions in the notes please, I want really cool axe murderer names, like "The Hatchet's Weilder" or something. 🙏

Every episode of house be like:

A small child is visibly ill. They start coughing and clutching their throat, but whips out an inhaler and they’re fine. Oh shit! The man across the street just started bleeding out of both of his eyeballs!

Cut to house grimacing in pain and swallowing too much Vicodin.

Differential! Go! Shut up chase you’re an idiot.

They do a bunch of tests, everything is inconclusive!

We need to biopsy the patients eyeballs!

Cut to foreman explaining to the family about how invasive and dangerous a biopsy is.

Biopsy is inconclusive. Cut to house and Wilson. Wilson gives a long introspective dialogue about how houses addiction is deeply rooted in his own self hatred and that he pushes people away to further punish himself.

Epiphany time! Give the patient the medicine drug!

Patient is saved. House and Wilson eye fuck each other while going out for drinks.

"Prom Gone Wrong" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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“I’m not showing too much cleavage, am I?” I ask my friend Cassy, pulling up on the silky  red dress I was wearing to cover my breasts. It was prom day, the same day I was dreading since Ollie asked me to go with him.

Don’t get me wrong, going out in a beautiful dress was my dream since I was a little girl. It was just the fact that I didn’t want to go with Ollie. 

He wasn’t my type, and he was known for not actually dancing with girls at prom and taking them in a janitor’s closet to fuck them instead. He’s never piqued my interest, but since nobody else asked me to go, I accepted.

“Honey, you look gorgeous! Let those girls free, the world needs to see how hot you are.” Cassy said before throwing her head back and taking a shot, her favorite thing to do before a party. I nervously smiled at her and fixed my hair before leaving the bathroom.

“Yeah, I just don’t want that creepy English teacher to dress-code me.” I walked to my vanity and sat down on the stool, pulling out a tube of lipgloss from my purse and applying it to my lips.

Cassy shrugged and sat down on my bed, bending over to put her black heels on. “If he looks at you weirdly, I’ll beat his 62 year old ass.”

“Thanks, Cassy.” I roll my eyes and laugh, reaching forward on the vanity to open my jewelry box. When I did, a polaroid of me and an old friend fell out of it, and I picked it up and stared at it.

Me and him used to live in the same neighborhood before I had to move away, and we were the greatest of friends. Sure, he was a bit of an oddball, but it never deterred me from him. We grew apart, though, and went our separate ways throughout highschool. Now that we were both seniors and could attend the senior-only school dance, I had a small amount of hope that he’d ask me. I wasn’t sure why, but I just did. 

“All right. I think we’re ready.” Cassy stood up and smoothed out her dark green dress in my full length mirror, and shortly after putting the photo away I did as well. “Let’s go dance.”

–

The DJ was playing Again by Noah Cyrus when we arrived, and the lights in the cafeteria room were red. That seemed to be the theme as Cassy and I walked around trying to find our dates. It took a couple of minutes for her to find West, and she bid me goodbye while interlocking her arm with his.

It was well into the night and I couldn’t find Ollie, and I had accepted the fact that he probably stood me up for another girl. I was leaning against one of the tables that held fruit punch, and I downed the last drops of the drink in my cup before deciding to step away from the ear-damaging crowd.

Making my way out of the cafeteria, I sighed when I walked out of the doors and entered the empty hallway. The sound of all the others were muffled, and the only thing that you could hear were the soft tapping of my heels. 

Wandering aimlessly through the quiet highschool, I walked past one of the closets in a darker part of the building. A loud thump against the door and a couple of moans told me all I needed to know, and I scoffed at their lack of decency. 

“That’s it, take this big dick!” I stopped in my tracks when I recognized his voice. 

Ollie.

Now, I know I had tried to convince myself earlier in the night that he did in fact stand me up, but a part of myself also didn’t quite believe it. I had thought of multiple excuses he could’ve had, and even though this one had the biggest chance, it still hurt. 

Was I not good enough? Not pretty enough? I still would’ve turned him down if he asked for sex, but why didn’t he even try?

Spirals of thoughts turned and twisted in my head as I continued walking around the school, except this time I had a place I wanted to go. Me and my old friend used to hang around the place after hours when we were younger, and there was a girls bathroom that was supposed to get renovated decades ago. Of course, the school board never got around to it, so it was a good place to skip and hide away in. It was on the second floor of the school, directly above the cafeteria. 

A remix of 180 by Bastián and Glory Box by Portishead seeped into my ears as I opened the door, and it continued to echo around when it closed. It was a larger bathroom than the others, and I walked up to the mirror that took up half of the wall. There were scarce lights, so it was rather dim around the other areas of the room.

I looked at my face and touched up on any makeup that faded, and then took my hair out of the low bun it was in. I played around with my hair, and scratched at my head, softly moaning at the self-massage I was doing. 

I froze when I heard the door creak and close, and then I locked eyes with the intruder in the mirror.

“Patrick?” I muttered, spinning around to face him. He wore a black suit with a red undershirt and a black tie, and I made a small note that the same color matched my dress. His hair was slightly tousled, and a stranded curl rested on his forehead. 

We both took in the sight of each other before I cleared my throat.

“What are you doing here?” I tilted my head, staring into his green eyes. 

“‘Could ask you the same thing.” He stated simply and started a low stride towards me, his eyes roaming over my body once again. It made me feel bare, to be on such a display for him. I remembered how low chested my dress was and pulled it up nervously, and even in the dim lights I could see his smile.

Patrick had always towered over me in height, and he took advantage of it now while circling me. I folded my hands in front of me and played with fingers as he did, waiting for him to be done with his inspection. 

“Well, don’t you look pretty.” He stopped in front of me and grinned. It was obvious that I was nervous, even a blind person could see it. I hadn’t talked to him since middle school, and seeing him now intimidated me in a way. 

“‘Could say the same thing to you.” Shrugging, I turn around to look at myself in the mirror again.

Patrick huffed out a laugh and stepped behind me, placing his hands on my waist. Being so close to him made my breath hitch, but I couldn’t let him know. I pretended it didn’t affect me and pulled out my lip gloss, reapplying it to my lips. It was red and shimmery, which was one of the reasons I had chosen it out of the many others in my purse. The other reason was that I knew it was his favorite.

When we were in middle school, my mom had bought it for me for my birthday. Patrick and I were hanging out one day, and I had decided to put it on because I thought it was pretty. He of course noticed, and asked me a simple question that led him to be my first kiss.

“Can I try some on?” Patrick whispered in my ear, his thumb rubbing circles on my hip. I froze again, and put the applicator back in the tube. I locked eyes with him again in the mirror, and he kissed at the spot on my neck below my right ear. His soft but chapped lips caused goosebumps to run all over my body, and a warm feeling to form in my stomach. 

“Well?” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine, and I turned around and backed away from him. He stepped forward towards me, and the cycle repeated until my back hit the edge of one of the sinks. I swallowed down the lump in my throat that caused me to be silent, but before I could speak, he did instead.

“Jump.” It barely registered in my brain what he wanted me to do, but it clicked when his hands grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the sink. My legs wrapped around his hips, and my arms went around his neck. 

I didn’t think before I did, but before I knew it my lips were on his. It was sloppy, hungry, but it fit with how we felt. I grabbed at the hair on the base of his neck and he grabbed at the red fabric of my dress.

We didn’t pull away from each other, but probably for different reasons. I had a thing for Patrick since I’ve known him, and I didn’t want to pull away and have him disappear again.

I didn’t know why he was so frantic like me, though. Maybe he felt the same, or maybe it’s all a heat of the moment kind of thing. Whatever it was, I didn’t want it to end. 

Patrick’s hand moved slyly up and down my body, and mine stayed in his hair. I always liked how long it was, it matched his face shape well. And since he hated going to the barber, it worked out for the both of us. 

I whimpered when his fingers pinched my thighs, and finally pulled away to breathe while he smiled at my reaction. We both panted and looked at each other, eyes filled to the brim with lust. Patrick licked his swollen lips, tasting the flavor of the gloss.

“Cherry?” He asked with a toothy grin.

I nodded breathlessly, my mouth dryer than a desert. “Your favorite.” 

He hummed and pulled me in for another kiss, even more eager than the last. My hands left his hair and roamed down to undo his tie, and I cursed into the kiss when I couldn’t get the knot undone. Patrick snickered and reached his hands up to do it himself, my own hands cupping his face. 

When he took the tie off, he pulled my hands away and placed it in them. Confused as to why he was pulling away, I opened my mouth to ask, but stopped immediately.

He kneeled in front of me, mischief flooding his green eyes. Patrick grabbed my legs and spread them, and he kissed at my ankle. He continued his charade of leaving marks all over and up my left leg before switching to the right one.

His hands roamed behind me to pull me closer to the edge of the porcelain sink, and then they moved back down to the insides of my thighs.

They reached up for my underwear, and he didn’t even need to tell me to lift my hips. It was like an automatic response to his touch, one that I couldn’t help. He noticed as well, and swiftly pulled down the damp red fabric and threw it aside. 

“You’ve got quite the theme goin’, huh toots?” He laughed and placed a kiss on each of my knees. I ticked my tongue and lightly tapped his side with my red heel, urging him to hurry up.

“I like to match.” I lean back onto the sink and run my fingers through my hair, biting my lip as he shuffles closer to me. 

His eyes were trained on mine, and he lifted up my dress, disappearing under the silk. I gasped when he blew air on my groin, and threw my head back when I felt his tongue on me.

Patrick ate like a starved man eating his last meal, not even coming up to take a breath. His hands held my thighs apart so that they didn’t clamp around his head, and all that could be heard throughout the bathroom were my moans and the soft sound of music.

Panting and gasping when he sucked on just the right spot, my fingers went under my dress and tightened themselves around his hair. He groaned into my cunt, and that was what threw me over the edge.

“Patrick, I’m gonna-” He didn’t let me finish my sentence and his thumb on my clit, rubbing it in just the right way to make me scream his name.

He let me ride my high, slowing down a bit, but not stopping. I whined and tried to tug his head away, but he didn’t let up. Finally, after a couple of complaints, he pulled back, leaving a few last licks and standing up. 

His face was stained and shiny, and he wiped it away on his sleeve. Embarrassed, I looked away while he did. He took off his blazer, and grabbed my chin. He kissed me once again, and the warm feeling came back shortly. He grasped my hands in his and guided them towards his shirt, and I caught on. I unbuttoned it and he tossed it away from us, ignoring my grumbles of how dirty the floor probably is.

Patrick unbuckled his belt and let it drop, and then unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them down just enough to where he could let his cock out, and once again pulled me closer to him. Wrapping my legs around him and putting my face into his shoulder, he started to align himself with my entrance before I yelped,

“Condom! Use a condom.” I pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, my concerned expression opposite of his unamused one. He rolled his eyes and started rocking himself against me, sliding in and out of my folds. 

I moaned loudly and grabbed his shoulder, covering my mouth with my other hand. Patrick smirked and went faster, a knowing look on his face.

“Still want a condom?” He asked, and I shook my head with doubt. 

Patrick was smug as he lined himself up again, and his lips caught my whine as he thrusted inside slowly. He kept going until he bottomed out all the way, and he cursed the whole time.

“Fuck. Ease up on me, dollface. You’re real fucking tight.” He groaned, and pulled out almost all the way. I whined and scratched at his back, and he rammed himself back in. The process repeated, and the bathroom was filled with moans and swears once again.

I could feel him twitch inside me, indicating that he was close. I had already come twice around him, and was crying at the overstimulation.

“Patrick, it’s too much.” I cried against his neck. 

“I know, fucking hell, I know. Just a little longer, you can do it. Just give me one more, baby.” He reached his hand down and thumbed at my clit, making me fall off the edge once again. The constriction around him made him moan loudly and pull out of me, leaving a mess all over my thighs. 

We sat there for a couple minutes, breathing in each other's air. I leaned my head back against the sink’s mirror and stared at him as he stepped away to pick up his tie, wiping away the white liquid on me with it. He tucked himself back into his pants, put his belt on, and the rest of his clothes. He threw the tie into the small, empty trashcan to the left of us and kissed me. 

Patrick didn’t pull away until we both couldn’t breathe, and then he stepped away from me, and walked to the door.

“Eleven PM tomorrow, here.” He opened the door and walked out.

Patrick left me alone with my thoughts, and I stayed sitting on the sink for a while longer. Thinking over my night and what he and I were now, I realized that we were still at the school dance, and that I had to find Cassy and drive her home.

it just be like that I guess

this is the same scene to me

hiii what fics to do you have coming up for us to enjoy!

Hi babes! So far my WIPs are

Oneshots:

Carol Peletier/Reader: Angst/Fluff

**After loss, the reader distances herself from the rest of the group, doing her tasks quietly. When Carol notices, she tries to step in, and gets told off by the reader.

Jake Sully/Reader: Fluff/Tension

**Neytiri leaves Jake alone in the forest to hunt by himself as a test, and he comes across a poisonous fruit. Unknowing, he tries to eat it and gets stopped by Na’vi!Reader, who then educates him on the flora and language of the Na’vi.

Ongoing Stories:

Patrick Hockstetter/Reader: Enemies to Lovers

**Beverly’s older sister often gets bullied by the Bower’s Gang, more specifically by Patrick himself. They both have feelings for each other, but refuse to believe themselves. Patrick is tied into a bet to go out with the reader, and she goes ballistic when she finds out. She and Beverly move in with her aunt when summer ends, and haven’t seen anyone since. When Mike calls everyone 27 years later, how will she react to seeing Patrick again? What will she do when he’s gotten therapy and has gotten help for his solipsism?

George Foyet/Reader: Angst/Tension/Fluff

**The Boston Reaper is on a hunt for his next victim, and finds the perfect college girl in a bar. As he stalks her overtime, he develops an odd attraction to her, and does everything to make sure he’s the only one in her love life. Even if kidnapping is his last option.

Guys I don't even ship Rick x Negan but the fanarts are so HOT

"Inseparable" Part Ten

Patrick groaned when Y/N shot up from her spot on the couch gasping and tightly gripping his forearm. He smacked his lips as he looked around the room trying to gather what was going on.

“The fuck’s your problem?” He whispered, squinting his eyes through the dark. Y/N whipped her head around to look at him and hugged onto him tightly, burying her face in his neck.

Patrick was too tired to care, though, and stayed in his seated position with his arms on his sides, blinking the sleep away from his eyes.

He looked back at her after scanning the room and sat motionless for a moment, right before plopping his face into her hair and going back to sleep as Y/N sobbed and cried.

A little while later, she wiped her nose on his bare shoulder and grimaced at the line of snot she left on it. She sat up when she heard birds chirping, and the faintest bit of sun poking through her window, contrasting with the rest of the pitch black room. Sighing, she shifted to move away from Patrick right before she heard a loud thump and groaning.

“The fuck is your problem?” Patrick hissed from his new position on what Y/N assumed was the floor.

She snorted a bit and pulled her shirt back down, why it was raised past her breasts and exposing her bra made her concerned, but she didn’t want to know what Patrick was up to. She smacked her lips as Patrick had done in an earlier time and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. 

“Ah, fuck!” Patrick yelled after yet another thump, and plopped himself onto the spot on the couch next to her holding his foot. The sun had risen more so she could see the room, and she bursted into full laughter when she realized he stubbed his toe on the coffee table in front of them.

“It’s not that fucking funny.” He grumbled, his hand massaging his toes.

“Oh, yes it is.” Y/N wiped away the tears that formed from her outburst and let out shaky breaths before calming down.

“Oh, yes it is.” Patrick mocked in a snarky tone and put his feet on the coffee table, knocking over the TV remote.

Y/N deadpanned at him and they stared at each other for a couple seconds before he realized that she wanted him to pick it up. He only grinned and moved his legs to sit criss-cross.

“Jackass.” Y/N mumbled, standing up to bend over and pick it up. Patrick wolf-whistled, grabbing his crotch and putting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Damn, is it hot in here, or is it just me?” He licked his lips, smiling when she tossed the remote at him. Y/N sat back down and made a disgusted sound.

“So what now.” Y/N said, crossing her hands in her lap and staring at the floor. 

“We could talk about whatever the fuck you were dreaming about.” Patrick turned his head to look at her, and he stared at her while she inspected her carpet.

Y/N was silent, eyes unmoving. It unnerved Patrick deeply to see her so quiet, and he was incredibly curious as to why she was. 

“Let’s make pancakes.”

Heyyyyy!

Hey guys! I know it’s definitely been longer than a hot minute, granted I’ve been sick with Mono and another virus on top of it. I haven’t been able to write much, and I’m terribly sorry for it! Just a of reminder in case you are wondering where your story/oneshot may be:

I write in bulk! If you requested a story, or something that may have multiple parts, it will be posted separately than my other stories, and will be posted with multiple parts at the same time. It will be written, it just might take a bit longer!

Thanks for understanding <333

"Boo Boos" n. smith Oneshot

---------------->

“I want you to watch her for a good, couple of hours?” Negan held a squirming toddler in his arms as he talked to Simon about her. The said other man watched her as she whined and held on tighter to her father, and debated if it was worth it to babysit the clingy girl.

“Right, right. Just watch her is all? I don’t have to like, change her or anything?” Simon questioned, grimacing when he saw the girl bite down onto Negan’s shoulder. 

“Fuck! Okay, down you go!” Negan shouted, setting her down onto the floor. She giggled and started pulling at a string on his pant leg. Negan sighed in defeat and ruffled her hair, answering Simon’s question, “She’s potty trained, you dumb fuck. And yes, that’s all.”

Simon hummed and nodded his head. He was without a doubt a little nervous, who wouldn’t be? Taking care of The Big Man™’s girl was a huge deal, and even one fuck-up could result in getting fucked-up. 

Especially since she was such a little hassle. She’d always run away from her father whenever he didn’t keep a close enough eye on her, and she’d hide from him. She even talked to Daryl through the cell door one time, which was something Negan was not happy with.

“Hey, Negan? Everything’s ready for Alexandria.” Gavin walked past the two with a notebook in his hands, lifting it up and shaking it.

“M’kay.” Negan responded and looked down at the little girl who was eating a piece of string. “Stop that, honey. That’s not good for you.”

He sighed and looked back to Simon, who looked a bit fearful. Negan snorted and pulled his daughter off of him and held her out for the other man to take.

Simon held out his arms and awkwardly took her into them. She whined and turned herself around to stare at her father, who put a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Bye, honey. I’ll see you soon,” He shot a pointed look to his friend, “Take care of her.”

Simon nodded and watched Negan leave with the rest of the saviors and looked back to his daughter, who was emotionlessly staring at him.

“Your hair looks funny.”

–

“Kid? Where did you go?” Simon called out, lifting up a cardboard box on the ground to see what was under it.

It took two hours and thirteen minutes to lose Negan’s daughter, and now he had to find her before whenever he came back. Obviously it was a game to her, but since Simon didn’t know the exact time his boss was coming back, he was panicking.

He set down the box when he heard soft laughing come from down the hallway he was in, and then realized what she was doing. “Oh, fuck.”

Simon jogged down the corridor until he reached where Daryl’s cell was, and he saw her sitting with her back against the door.

“My daddy has the key, not me.” She smiled, playing with the skirt of her dress. The chair that was supposed to have a guard in it was empty, and he assumed that that was why she ran away to talk to Daryl. He sighed in relief, and was about to walk over to her and pick her up when she looked at him and gasped. 

“Bye, Mr. Daryl!” She shouted and stood up, running down the hallway away from Simon.

“Shit!” Simon groaned, following behind her. She giggled and took a turn to the right, and then she tripped over her own feet.

“Ow!” She cried out, holding her now scraped knee. Tears poured out of her eyes and Simon crouched down next to her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, honey. Can I look at it?” He grabbed her leg softly and scanned it over to see how bad the injury was. She sniffled and hiccuped, her cheeks wet with hurt. It overall didn’t look bad enough to see Dr. Carson, but it did need to be wrapped. 

“Come here.” Simon picked her up and rubbed her back while she cried into his shoulder, and he winced when she wiped her nose on his shirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Simon sat her on the sink counter in his room and opened one of his cabinets, grabbing a first-aid kit and setting it down next to her. He grabbed a rag as well, and turned on the sink to put it under the water. Negan’s daughter wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve and watched him.

“I’m gonna wipe the blood away, and it’s gonna hurt a bit. M’kay, honey?” He told her, letting her brace herself for the pain. She nodded and bit her lip, and Simon nodded in return and placed the wet cloth on her knee.

“It stings!” She complained and tried to pull her knee away from him, only for him to grab it back.

“I know, I know. But I need to clean it to put a bandaid on it.” Simon sighed, “Look, I’m done.”

She looked at her knee and pouted, and Simon opened the kit next to her. He looked through it and found a box of bandages, and he grabbed one, peeling away the paper on it and placing it on her knee. 

“Look, we’re all done!” He smiled at her and reached his hand up to pinch her cheek. She giggled and kicked her legs back and forth.

Simon grabbed her and set her down off the counter and held her hand, “Do you want a popsicle? I heard Danny from the work stations makes some damn good cherry ones.”

“Daddy says they have liquor in them.”

“Oh.”

"Birthday" a. cameron Oneshot

---------------->

“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.

Hi. I was wondering if you were still writing for George Foyet? If so could you possibly write about him targeting the reader but when he goes to kill her he has this odd attraction to her and takes her and they fall in love. Could be a little angsty with some reaper torture but ends in fluff

Hey babes, I'll be happy too! I'm thinking about making this one into a bit of a story, and since I write in bulk it might take a hot minute. Just know that this one is on it's way! (I'll always write for Foyet, he's so fine 🤭)

Hey,

I wanted to ask if you could write a story with Patrick Hockstetter.

So I thought roughly that the reader could be Beverly’s older sister and also belong to the Loser Club. She used to be bullied by the Bowers Gang! But she and Patrick somehow had feelings for each other! But because of a bet in which Patrick is supposed to seduce the reader, the reader finds out and is angry and sad at the same time as Patrick, who really liked the reader!

The reader moves with her sister Beverly to her aunt's place and Patrick and the reader haven't seen each other since! And then 27 years later, she is also called by Mike like the others from the Loser Club, but what they don’t know is that Mike also called the Bowers Gang to get even more support (All from the Bowers gang except Henry who is in psychiatry). How will the reader react when she sees Patrick again after 27 years?

So in principle, it should be about the second part of IT but this time involving the Bowers Gang!

Patrick and the reader could end up like Beverly and Ben, with a happy ending!!!

An enemy-to-lover story would be cool. 🫶

Ps: As an adult, Patrick is normal, please. And Maybe he could look like Alex Meraz as an adult.

Could the reader please have blonde hair with water-blue eyes? 🫣🫶🫠.

Hope you like it

Your reader 🫶

I am currently writing this one out!!

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!

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!

"Cheating" BEN_Drowned Oneshot

---------------->

“Oh, come on! You’re totally cheating!” Y/N shouts, roughly standing up and pointing at the screen that said she lost with her controller. BEN only grinned and exited out of Super Mario Kart, returning to the menu screen.

“Nuh uh! You just suck at gaming.” He stuck his tongue out at her and yelped when she threw a pillow at him. “Woah, chill out!”

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Y/N tossed her controller onto the couch cushion and tackled him, rolling them both off the couch.

He held onto her hands and screeched, trying to push her off of him. He failed miserably, though, granted her wrath was much stronger than what his twiggy arms could handle.

BEN kept screaming for help as she threatened him repeatedly, and looked over at the stairs as Jeff ran down them.

“Help! Please! Oh my fucking God, help me!” He yelled over at Jeff, and the rugged man only snickered and took a picture of them. 

“Nah, I’ve got shit to do. Funny as fuck, though.” Jeff shoved his phone back into his hoodie pocket and went into the kitchen, no doubt grabbing a beer. 

BEN continued to shout until he kicked her knee and she fell off of him, and he took his chance to run behind the couch. He and her played an odd game of ‘Ring Around the Rosie’ with it, and she looked for any opening she could to get to him. 

“Just admit you cheated!” She shouted, and threw another pillow at him.

“Just admit you suck ass at Super Mario Kart!” BEN shouted back, and Y/N stopped chasing him around the couch and stared at him. He also froze, unsure of what she was doing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N climbed over the couch and jumped onto him, tackling him down again. They both rolled around and continued to fight, her threatening him and him taunting her. 

Jeff stood in the kitchen and watched at a distance, sipping his beer.

“They’re really going at it, huh?”

“Fuck!” Jeff jumped and spilled his beer, and looked over to where Clockwork had randomly appeared next to him, and she laughed lightly as he grabbed a towel and cursed her out.

"RSV" g. house/j. wilson Oneshot

---------------->

The cold atmosphere surrounding the two men dampened the mood plenty, and the harsh coughs of the patient in front of them made it worse.

House had taken a case of a seven year old girl who hadn’t been able to walk since she was three. Whenever pressure was put on her left leg she would get a shooting pain all the way up to her spine.

No doctor knew why, other than that it was immovable and that she would probably never use it again. She and her mom had come into the clinic due to a respiratory infection, and House found her background ‘interesting.’ 

After a plethora of examinations and not-so-legal operations, he and his team found a tumor in her calf and in the middle of her spinal cord. How all of her other doctors missed them baffled the man, truly.

But that was how he was now sitting next to the girl showing her magic tricks as Wilson discussed with her mom possible treatments. 

“We could remove them and the dead tissue that surrounds the tumors, but it’s a tough and long operation that doesn’t have the highest chance of working.” Wilson stated lowly to the crying woman.

“How high?” She choked out, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

“A good, twenty-percent chance.” He estimated and thought about the severity of the girl's illness. “Her respiratory infection also doesn’t help much in the process, but if we don’t take those tumors out now, they might not be able to come out at all.”

The mother looked over at her daughter and watched as House pulled out a card from behind her ear, and then she saw him flick the girl’s forehead when she said it was the wrong card. Her mother laughed slightly, and then looked back at Wilson.

“Where do I sign?” Wilson smiled at her words and nodded to the door, “I’ll show you the reception.”

=======

The woman came back to the room and hugged her daughter, kissing her forehead. “Are you ready to get better, sweetie?”

The girl nodded her head and grinned, a tear falling from her eye.

Wilson walked in and snorted at House, who had fallen asleep in the chair with cards spread out all over him. 

“House.” He called out to the man, repeating it louder again. House still didn’t wake up, and Wilson scoffed before looking at the girl and the woman. 

“It’s about to get a little loud.” He warned them before he stood in front of the girl and offered his hand out. She took it, and he used his other to take off a cord that connected her to her heart monitor. It beeped loudly, repetitively, and House jolted awake. 

“Huh?”

“Welcome back, we almost lost you there.” Wilson said sarcastically, and House rolled his eyes. Wilson looked back at the girl, and he and House both grimaced when she coughed on his face. 

“I am so sorry.” The girl said and covered her mouth as she finished coughing. 

Wilson smiled tightly at her and connected her back to the heart monitor, “It’s all right, it happens more than you think.”

=======

“Where’s Wilson?” House barged into Cuddy’s office, completely ignoring the man she was with.

“House!” She scolded him, gesturing to the other man. “I’m in a meeting with someone. Knock next time.” 

“Oh, really? In that shirt I thought you were trying to proposition him a little something-something, if you catch my drift.” He raised his eyebrows to punctuate his sentence and grinned.

Cuddy gritted her teeth, and excused herself from the other man before walking out of the office with House trailing behind her.

“Wilson is at home sick with RSV. I told him to leave when I saw him this morning with eyebags heavier than yours and when I heard him cough his lungs out in his office from outside his door.” 

House looked at her and hummed before taking off without a word. The woman groaned and turned around, stopping one of the assistants. “Clock Dr. House out of work, please.”

=========

House lifted his cane up to Wilson’s door and knocked to the tune of ‘Shave and a Haircut’. He didn’t get a response, so he jiggled the handle and opened the door when he noticed it was unlocked. 

“You know, I could kill and rob you right now.” He shouted out as he walked into Wilson’s living room. It was eerily quiet, and he didn’t like it. The man thudded his cane on the ground three times and heard a faint cough as three other knocks followed from Wilson’s bedroom wall.

House’s eyebrows furrowed and he went to see the sick oncologist, roughly opening the door and turning on the lights. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

Wilson groaned loudly and grabbed one of his pillows to cover his head with, coughing underneath it. He groaned even louder when House poked him with his cane, right before House jabbed it into his side.

“Ow! House!” Wilson uncovered his head and looked at the other man, holding up his hand to the light above them. He coughed a bit, and House let out a quick ‘yikes’ when he saw just how bad Wilson looked. 

The man in question had eyebags darker than his own hair, and his eyes were incredibly red and puffy. His lips were dry and cracked, and he had dried drool on his chin. His cheeks were red as well, and his hair was tousled like he just got thrown off a bull. 

“Jesus Christ.” House murmured, taking in the sight of his best friend. The said man had only grunted and thrown his face back into his pillow, coughing into it. 

“If you’re gonna gawk, at least turn the lights off.” His voice was muffled, but House understood it enough to flick the light switch and leave the room.

The man stood there for a second, staring at the door before going into the kitchen and grabbing Wilson’s keys from the glass bowl, and leaving to go to his own house.

=======

Wilson’s eyes opened when he heard his front door slam shut, and he inhaled deeply and sat up. He ran his hands through his tangled hair and carefully stood up, making his way to his bathroom. Washing his hands when he was finished with his business, he turned off the water and dried his hands while trying to sniff the air.

He couldn’t smell or breathe very well, but there was a slight smell of Thai food that caught his attention. He fixed his hair and left the bathroom, and wobbled to his kitchen, where he saw House sitting down on his sofa and eating noodles while watching ‘General Hospital.’

“Save any for me?” He croaked out and cleared his throat. 

“Fridge.” Was the only thing House said through a mouthful of noodles, and Wilson made his way to his fridge.

He pulled out a box of more noodles, and noticed the grocery bag on his counter. He reached out for it, and pulled out a bottle of Nyquill, Aspirin, Tylenol, allergy medications, and Motrin.

He opened the bottle of Tylenol and grabbed two, tossing them into his mouth and fitting his head under the sink to down them with the tap water. He grabbed the Thai noodles and sat down next to House, digging into his food. 

They both sat there in enjoyable silence until Wilson noticed all of the new pillows and blankets that sat on his reclinable sofa and spoke up.

“What’s all that for?” He mumbled through his noodles. 

“Doesn’t matter.” House said simply, pushing himself off the couch with his cane and taking his trash and bowl to the kitchen. Wilson stared at the cushions and shrugged, continuing to watch the TV. 

When he was finished, he got up and also took his bowl to the kitchen, and he coughed into his elbow as he placed his bowl in the sink. “Are you going to pay rent, at least?”

“Nope.” House popped the P and typed away on Wilson’s laptop, not bothering to look at the man. Wilson deadpanned at House until he decided to walk away and go back to his room, flopping onto his bed and falling asleep there.

The other man was searching for drug cocktails that he could inject his friend with to get him better, and he grinned devilishly when he found one that he had access to all of the drugs.

He leaned over slightly to see if Wilson’s door was open or not, and stood up and quickly made way to his bag when he saw it was closed. He pulled out what should have been a med-kit, and took out the drugs in it. He chose what he needed, and made sure all of the right ingredients were put into a syringe.

He slowly limped to Wilson’s room, opting out of using his cane so that he didn’t cause too much noise and wake him up. House opened his door carefully, and his nerves eased when he heard the loudest snore he’s ever heard in his life.

 He ticked his tongue and made his way to Wilson, pulling out a sanitisation packet from his pocket. He lifted the sleeping man’s shirt and carefully rubbed it onto his back, freezing when he stirred. Pulling out the other packet, he wiped down the needle slowly and injected Wilson with the cocktail quickly. 

He froze again, expecting Wilson to wake up and yell at him, but he didn’t. He was still fast asleep, and still snoring. House smiled in success and tossed the syringe into the trashcan by Wilson’s bed, and covered it up with crinkled tissues. He then left the room and closed the door, and went back into the kitchen where the laptop was. 

House re-skimmed over the article with the side effects and he stopped when he saw something slightly alarming.

“Patient may fall unconscious for any time ranging from 16 hours to 2 days. Watch closely and monitor all the time. Any illnesses that the patient may have when the cocktail is injected will dimishness.”

“Shit.”

=======

Wilson woke up after twenty-six hours with cotton mouth, a diaper on, and no idea where he was until he saw House sitting on a chair reading a magazine. 

“House?” He grumbled, lifting himself up to look at his clock. It was late, 1:24 in the morning to be exact. He looked back at House, and the man stood up and slapped the back of his hand onto Wilson’s forehead and held it there. 

“Feels fine.” The man said, and he grabbed his cane and left the confused Wilson to his own devices. 

Wilson didn’t know what happened, or what to do, so he chose to take a shower and freshen up. When he was done, he saw a glass of water on his bedside table and downed it immediately.

He sighed and stood there, unsure of what to do once again. That was until he noticed he felt much better than when he fell asleep.

He went to find House, and saw him in the kitchen again making what he assumed was an omelet. Staring into the back of House’s head, he felt that something was wrong.

He went to sleep with RSV and the worst headache and cough of his life, and now he felt like he could run a marathon.

“What did you do?” He questioned, and locked eyes with House when he turned around.

“What, no ‘thank you?’ No, ‘Oh my goodness, House. I feel so much better, thank you for your help and kindness?’” House mocked, tossing the omelet onto a plate and holding it out for Wilson.

Wilson felt iffy taking the food, but he still did and he sat down at the table as House served him a glass of orange juice. 

“It’s two in the morning-” “I don’t care, eat your food.”

“M’kay.” Wilson didn’t argue and he grabbed his fork and ate, huffing down all of it and drinking every drop in the glass. “So, what’d you do?”

“I drugged you with seven different drugs.” House told him, grabbing Wilson’s plate and putting it in the sink before filling his glass back up with more juice. Wilson sat there and stared at him in disbelief, no words could come out of his mouth. 

“Right.” Was the only word he could say, and he downed the drink in his glass. His mind was racing with many things he wanted to tell his friend.

He was in awe that he would put him so close to death, and that he would even think of doing such a thing that could one again, put him so close to death. It was insane of him to do, and he was flabbergasted. But what came out instead of yelling was, 

“You cared that much?” House turned on the water to the sink and grabbed a sponge and soap and started doing the dishes, ignoring Wilson’s question. 

That was the only answer Wilson needed, though, and he smiled at the back of House’s head. 

“I’m telling your team when I go into work.”

“No the hell you aren’t!”

“Oh, yes the hell I am!”

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!

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

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. ❤️

absolutely seething because I can never find any good fanfiction for a girl who isn’t some timid little fuck puppet. Like I get that some girls are hyper feminine but oh my god I just need a reader who can kick ass and hold their own. I’m not 4 foot 2 and 3 pounds I’m a decent sized female who could easily fill out the shirts of men I thirst over. I’m not cutely strolling into the room in my little pink sundress and white sandals, no dude I’m stomping into that room in jeans and a t shirt combat boots and saying the most disgusting dick joke you’ve ever heard. Sorry guys I’m not a girly girl

Hii! i’d love to read some TWD carol x reader! what about after loss r starts distancing herself. doing what needs to be done but quietly and away from everyone. carol tries to step in and talk to her but r snaps “you’re not my mother. just leave me alone” maybe daryl goes to talk to r and then r confides in carol. angsty and fluff pls and thank yooou

Hello, I'd be happy to write this out! Just please know that it might take a hot minute bc I have some school to attend to, but other than that it will be on its way <33

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Part Three

I forgot how fast this bitch runs, I thought while watching her go toward the treeline. I wonder if she remembers the deal.

Fuck, I hope not.

Last year I saw her on a camping trip with her friends, who were assholes anyway so I technically did her a favor by killing them, and decided she was going to be mine.

Well, her ass was going to be mine. I don't really care all that much about her. 

The sound of the snap of a camera, a thump with the crunch of leaves and twigs, and cursing pulled me out of my train of thought, and I looked over at the sources and scoffed.

“T–ell me again how yo–u two dumbasses became prox–oxies?” Glaring at the masked idiots, the one in orange stands up and wipes off the leaves on his pants.

“We were here before you, Twitchy.” He snarls and looks down at the one in yellow who was still on the ground and looking through his camera. 

“So what's her name? I mean, since you've dragged us here to help you play Hide and Seek, I think we should know what to call her.” He looks up at the two of us, his black mask slipping off his face just a bit.

I shake my head and start walking in the direction she started in. 

“Yo–u don’t need to k–know it, and I didn’t wan–nt you two here.” I groan, watching a bird and a fox wrestle in the distance.

 “The Op–op–erator’s just an untrusti–ing bitch,” Mumbling, I kick a rock in front of my boot and look back at the two. “Brian, how long has it been?”

“Two minutes and thirteen seconds.” He looks at his watch and wipes his yellow sleeves of the twigs he fell on and looks through his camera, no doubt looking back at the video he took of the girl he stalked yesterday. 

I roll my eyes and my neck jerks to the right, my knuckles unwillingly cracking inside of my pocket.

I reach my hand up to my left cheek and scratch at the scar, a bad habit that always ends in a bloody, bigger hole than the last. 

I think I’ll just try to find her now, it’s not like she’s counting the seconds.

My hand grasps the hatchet hanging on my waist and I start the walk to the other one a couple yards away, silently praying to any god that she still has that fighting spirit in her that I love breaking so much.

"Love Me Dead- Ludo" Part Two

Loud, chirping birds were not the greatest thing to wake up to with a headache, neither was the wolf spider on my pant leg. The blinding sun wasn’t either, and the twigs stabbing into my back definitely weren’t. 

Groaning, I wince and put my hand over my eyes to block out the deadly rays. The breeze did feel nice, and the smell of the forest was nicer.

I was just about to go back to whatever sleep I woke up from when I realized something that was just a bit off-putting.

I live in the city.

Sitting up too quickly for my head’s liking, my breath hitches in my throat as I take in my surroundings. Trees, trees, a squirrel, trees, and oh look! More trees.

I’m practically hyperventilating when I try to stand up, and I hiss in pain as I look down at my feet. Taking in my appearance, more dread fills my body. No shoes and no socks. 

Whoever took me was kind of smart; a very bad thing.

I wipe the leaves off my jeans and shirt and start scanning everything I can that was in my eyesight, hoping that there was some kind of human life out here.

Not seeing any, I sigh and curse under my breath, knowing that I have to suffer through no foot protection to find a way out of here.

I cringe with every step I take, knowing the amount of blisters I’ll have. Something heavy falls on my right shoulder after a few steps and I freeze. 

I stop breathing as I notice through my peripheral vision that the heavy object is indeed something sharp and that there’s a gloved hand holding it.

It pulls back, slicing through my shoulder when a pop comes from the hand’s wrist. I scream and fall to my knees, hand reaching up to hold the wound as I cry. The person behind me snickers, and crouches down next to me. 

They’re a man, and the object he holds is a hatchet. One that really fucking hurts. 

“Let’s replay our l–last game from last ye–ar, m’kay?” He grins, his neck popping to the left. “You run, and I’ll find you again!” Giggling, he stands back up and puts the hatchet into the harness wrapped around his waist, and I notice the other one on the other side. 

“I can cl–close my eyes if that makes you feel an–y better.” His god-awful smirk makes me want to vomit, or maybe that was just the fear coming back from last year.

Whatever it was, I shuddered and quickly stood up, making a run for it.

“One, two, three-” His voice fades away as I go, and I’m too high on adrenaline to notice the cuts and splinters in my feet. The trees all look the same, the rocks, the logs, everything.

Nothing changes as I run.

Panicking and realizing that I’m still running in a straight line forward, I start taking lefts and rights to throw him off. Is he still counting? I doubt it. Last year he gave me at most five minutes to run, probably less now that I think about it.

I slow down due to my shortness of breath and look down to see a rather large splinter on top of my foot. Something feels off and I get the urge to kneel down and pick it out, so I do.

The second I bend down, a whoosh comes from above me, and I look up to see an axe halfway through the tree in front of me. I widen my eyes and look behind me, seeing him standing there at least 15 feet away.

His hand twitches, his neck popping to the left once again. Before I register the fact that that tree could have been me, I sprint away once again, completely forgetting about my lungs and the splinter in my foot.