#he could have had so much better character writing to actually make him work
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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario
warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.
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Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.
As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.
PART TWO
Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.
If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.
So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her.
Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point.
This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.
And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all.
Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.
A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you.
In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head.
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.”
Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?”
You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”
“Then why -”
“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.”
His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel.
“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything.
Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.
“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!”
Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man.
But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.
If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out.
You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners.
Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her.
You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.”
Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse.
When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room.
You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number.
“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you.
“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised.
“Sir -” You began.
“Yulian, please.”
“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.”
You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…
“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.”
You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?”
He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”
“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.”
Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.
“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.
Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time.
He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home.
As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes.
It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped.
She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right?
The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment.
“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room.
“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley.
Her reaction was….amusing.
After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good.
Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too.
But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all.
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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
#forbidden-sunlight#yandere x reader#yandere male#yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#male yandere x reader#yandere x you#fem!reader#yandere! literary agent#yandere fanfiction#yandere manhwa x reader#ns.fw#tw obsessive love#tw obsessive behavior
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I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.
Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻
ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.
Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.
If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.
He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.
It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.
He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.
So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.
And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.
The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.
You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.
He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.
He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.
Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.
He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.
The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.
Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.
But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.
He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.
Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.
Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.
It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.
Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.
And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.
Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.
Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.
Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.
He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.
The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.
But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.
“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”
Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.
“‘Course.”
Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.
Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.
“How long you been keepin’ this in?”
“Which bit.”
His response was flat.
“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”
Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.
“Don’t push it.”
Simon bit back.
“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”
“Johnny.”
“Looks ready’ta pop.”
A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.
“Few months.”
They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.
“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”
He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.
“Hope not.”
Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.
“Boy o’ girl?”
This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.
“Girls.”
#this had me giiiiiiiiiggling and kicking my feet anon thank you#self indulgent dad!simon fluff#picturing him with twin baby girls I’m tearing my hair out holy shit#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#141 headcanons#moongreenlight#moongreenlightwrites#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#secret wife
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NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it
A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming
Word Count: 2.5k+
Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers
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After A Bad Day
Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother.
The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.
He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.
“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.
“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.
“How was your day?”
“It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”
“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”
“I can imagine”
She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”
“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”
“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”
“Did she eat her dinner?”
“I tried my best but you know her”
“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.
“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.
“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.
“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”
“What happened?”
Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”
“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”
“It was a misunderstanding”
“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”
She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?”
“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”
“Y- yeah”
“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.
He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.
She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.
He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.
After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.
“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”
“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.
A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.
He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick.
A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”
She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.
The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release.
It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.
“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”
She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.
He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.
One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could.
Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.
She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.
Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.
“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.
He swallowed hard before answering “Yes”
“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”
He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.
“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”
She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.
Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.
He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body.
She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.
With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.
He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall.
They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.
“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.
“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.
He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.
“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.
He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her.
By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.
“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”
Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure.
His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.
When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body.
“Good job” She whispered into his ear.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt fic#mike schmidt fanfic#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt smut#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf movie x reader#josh hutcherson
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ok i really really really enjoyed watching the first two episodes and i think the show is already so faithful to the books in ways the movies wished they were BUT i’m gonna be a bitch just because i can and rant about a few insignificant but at the same time very important Things the writers didn’t Understand:
percy is angry.
and i know this is seen with his anger towards poseidon in the show, but i’m talking angry. as in, generally speaking. when he’s with grover and they’re talking about nancy, percy says something along the lines of “we should fight back,” and grover’s like “noooo we can’t stand up to bullies.” and then percy stands up to her and blah blah blah…but in the books percy’s first line is “i’m going to kill her” after she throws a sandwich at grover. grover talks him out of it because he’s already on probation.
with just this scene we know percy stands up to bullies, and that’s partly why he has so much trouble at school! in the show, he stands up to nancy, apparently for the first time, and gets kicked out because of it! sorry but as someone who worked in a school, i know for a fact that kids can get away with so much more before they’re actually kicked out lol. it would’ve made sense, like in tlt, that he’s already at risk of suspension so him “pushing” nancy is the final straw. it’s just very weird, considering it could be only a line of dialogue that makes percy’s anger and the connection between his outburst and him getting kicked out more clear.
consequently, percy arrives at his appartment and gabe is just a general (still admittedly abusive) jerk instead of a drunk, violent (also abusive) man. when we meet gabe, it makes a lot of sense why percy has so much trouble with his anger. it’s easy to see that connection. literal child + alcoholic abusive father figure = there’s bound to be some trouble….that’s not really the case in the show, especially in the way that sally easily stands up to him. people have said a fair bit about this topic already, so i’m not gonna expand on that, but i really wish the writers had focused more on percy’s internal anger, as it’s such an important part of his character and affects the way he reacts to things throughout the books; it just worries me that in the first episode it wasn’t as established. i. e. he hates dionysus on sight because he reminds him of smelly gabe, he hates the gods—is angry at poseidon—because, where was he when my mom and i were suffering at the hands of smelly gabe? ok i’m not gonna talk about more of this or of sally because other people have said it and i could write a four page essay of what the show got wrong plus i want to talk abt other things before this gets too long:
the monster scenes.
the mrs. dodds being a fury reveal felt sooo…weird? even the movie version did it better lol. it felt super rushed and strange how percy’s just standing there and the next he’s on the ground, but he had riptide with him so he just impaled her and then she turned to dust??? in the books, not only does she get percy alone, but grover tries to stand up to her—which is a big deal since he knows what she truly is and shows how much he cares for percy in that moment. percy has time to be genuinely terrified bc he’s alone with a literal monster and he’s about to die…and chiron throws him riptide just in time, but then he too vanishes so percy’s left wondering if he imagined everything. but no, in the show mrs. dodds comes out of nowhere and attacks him, and it’s so fast that percy doesn’t have time to dwell on wtf happened. the situation doesn’t seem as serious as it does in the book; in the book she tries to interrogate percy bc she thinks he’s the lightning thief, and when she doesn’t get her answer, she attacks him. this is another thing: the stakes. they don’t feel as high in the show because there’s no annabeth trying to ask percy what was stolen, no hellhound, no fates cutting a string, and no alecto/mrs. dodds interrogation. there’s not much of a lead up to the quest, really.
theeen the minotaur scene, which also feels super weirdly paced and there’s just not that same sense of urgency. again, other people have talked about this, so i’ll just stick to another main concern of mine: grover’s role in the scene. it was so strange how in the book he’s semi unconscious and in the show he’s fine (so fine that sally does something completely out of character and makes grover swear to keep percy safe? she would never put that much pressure in a child???) ok so he seems fine in the show, but then when they’re running percy’s holding him as if he can’t walk???? they’re not even fully sprinting, given that a monster is chasing them lol. (the problem with the stakes; i mean with the way they run and have an entire talk with sally makes it feel like they’re not in any real danger).
back to grover: he was perfectly fine, and he got percy back safe. not at all like in tlt, where percy has to practically carry him back, after loosing his mom and killing the minotaur. THEN percy passes out and later wakes up at the big house. this is important, bc grover’s entire THING is being percy’s protector, and he couldn’t do that properly bc he was indisposed. he felt awful. of course he did. his character arc is overcoming the guilt and insecurities—that he’s not a proper protector and therefore can’t search for pan; his main character motivation—by successfully completing the quest and helping percy retrieve the master bolt.
these are just little seeds that needed to be planted in the first two episodes of the show…so that the rest of the show feels cohesive and makes sense with what happens in tlt. if these character traits and scenes are looked over and not given proper importance/not replaced with something similar, then the show will have a different tone than it does to the books. i don’t think it’s necessarily bad, but it is disappointing that the details sprinkled in the source material are lost in translation. they may have seemed insignificant to the writers, but not to meeee!!!!!!
#pjo adaptation#percy jackson#grover underwood#they should’ve hired a couple of insane pjo girlies to read and revise the script. just saying!!!!
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hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort
(CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)
BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/
spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.
WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event
a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-
this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!
main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
climacteric event masterlist!!
You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.
There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.
“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.
He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.
But you had your breaking point even with him.
The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.
He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.
He didn’t bother you after that.
At all.
There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.
It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.
The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.
Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.
It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.
The child you were looking for died before you found him.
And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.
You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.
You were usually pretty good at that part.
Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.
They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.
With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.
Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.
But you couldn’t do that right now.
Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.
And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.
You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.
You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.
It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.
As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.
His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.
Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.
The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.
You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.
You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.
“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.
You wanted him to leave you alone.
“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”
Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.
If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.
“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.
He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.
“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“Tell me how to help you…”
“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.
He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.
But there’s nothing he can do.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.
You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.
He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.
It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.
But he was trying, and that was the main point.
The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.
His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.
He didn’t know how to help you.
He didn’t know how to soothe you.
And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.
But the least he could do was this.
Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.
There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.
Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.
Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.
It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.
“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.
The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.
The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.
Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.
It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”
He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.
“I just wanted to help…”
“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”
Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.
The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.
“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”
You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.
You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.
It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.
Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.
He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.
He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#mgg#climacteric ��#asks 🫶
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Bad intentions | Part 1
Pairing: nerd!Han Jisung x popular!reader(afab)
Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.
Genre: fluff, angst, smut(for the story in general, this part has no smut)
Words count: 8,056
Slightly inspired in the movie She's All That
*This is the second fic to my series Love is a mess. The stories can be read as standalones but they are all connected so some details mentioned may sound off.
Disclaimer: Jisung is proud asf, OC has kind of a sad backstory and has anxiety(not explored very deeply but there are descriptions of her symptoms), this part is just suggestive so no smut
Part 2
This story is NSFW and is going to have +18 themes so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
A/N: okay for the sake of the plot let's pretend for a moment that Han Jisung can be considered anything other than smocking hot, alright?
A/N²: My idea was for all the stories from this series to be oneshots but I just kept writing and writing and this one was almost 13k already and I haven't even gotten to the good part so I thought "I almost never read anything over 10k" so I split the oneshot for the sake of my readers attention span.
Jisung likes to think that he's better than all the guys fawning over you, he likes to think that even if he had a chance, he'd never lust over you. But well, sometimes a strong denial turns out to be an implicit affirmation.
It all started in social studies, he was trying to go over his notes for the test but the conversations happening at the same time didn't let him pay any attention to what was written in the sheets. There were five different conversations happening at the same time, but they all had the same subject: you.
Apparently, you had a boyfriend who cheated on you with a girl from a rival university? Or some trivial shit like that. Jisung doesn't understand why that matters to anyone but you and the said boyfriend. He doesn't understand why everyone feels like such a painful experience is any of their business. But he guesses it comes with the job.
Everyone knows you, you're the classic cheer captain, who dates — or dated — the infamous quarterback in the football team. People envy you, cherish you, they want to be you and he always thought they loved you, but after hearing so many snarky comments about you in the last 20 minutes, he's actually starting to pity you.
You wanted to kill him, Seunghoon, that bastard. He destroyed a relationship of a year just to get in someone's pants? Fucking idiot. You hate him so much for cheating on you, but you hate him the most for not showing up kneeling at your door and asking for forgiveness. Who does he think he is? He would never have gotten his position on the football team if it wasn't for you, everyone knows that.
It's an understatement to say you are always the best in everything you put your mind into and if you're not the best by nature, you work hard until you become the best. You are smart, pretty, popularity is your thing, you're used to getting everyone's attention wherever you go. Everyone loves you, or at least they pretend well enough.
So when you started dating this guy, who was a nobody it was pretty shocking for everyone else. You turned him into the most popular guy so he could stay by your side, so you expected a little bit of loyalty from him. Guess that was expecting too much from a horny dog like him.
You did love Seunghoon, you wouldn't have dated him for a year if you didn't. But his character was always questionable, that, you won't deny. There's that saying that love makes you blind but you knew that he's no good and yet stayed with him, that's on you.
You can't stand the pity looks people give you when you walk down the hallway, they could at least pretend they are not talking shit about you behind your back.
To think the semester has only just started, you wish you could take a year off to make sure things die down nicely. But if you do, you'll definitely lose your position as cheer captain, there are too many people willing to get rid of you so they can get your title.
It's best for you to try and get rid of these thoughts, so you hold your head high turning on a corner, decided to pretend everything is okay. That's when you bump into someone, dropping the books you have in your hands and your phone screen down on the floor, gasping immediately, the last thing you need right now is a broken phone.
When you lean over to collect your things, the person who bumped into you does the same, going for the phone at the same time and touching hands with you. A strange wave of electricity makes your whole body shiver by that touch, making you snap your head in the direction of the person.
You know him. He's one of the members of 3racha, a music group everyone loves. Curiously, this is the first time you have seen him outside of a presentation. He's clearly different from the other members, wearing baggy clothes and displaying a hair that's undeniable too long with some questionable choice of colors on it. You can't even really see his eyes, however, he has something about him that makes you refuse to take your eyes off him.
He grabs your book and phone, ignoring your shameless stare. Standing up and handing your things to you.
“Sorry, I can pay for your phone's repair”, he says and for the first time in a minute you can divert your eyes from him, looking at the screen, absolutely shattered and sighing.
“No, it's okay. I was the one who was distracted”, you smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. Why do you feel the sudden urge to flirt with him? He's not even your type. Or at least, that's what you think.
He hums, not really interested, taking a paper out of his bag and writing something on it.
“Here, this is my number if you change your mind”, he gives you the paper, saying goodbye and disappearing somewhere in the hallway.
When you finally meet Seunghoon, he doesn't even apologize, actually, he doesn't look regretful at all. He has a smug smile, as if what he did is not serious, as if he's better than you now.
You always had a thought in the corner of your mind that maybe he had some kind of inferiority complex when it came to you, but you didn't think he would go as far as to cheat on you just to prove he is better in some way.
“You don't harbor hard feelings, right?” He smirks, chin up. “I know you're much better than me, I'm sure you won't mind what happened and we can still be friends”, he's mocking you, you recognize that tone.
You're grasping the fabric of your skirt under the table, did he really pull you away from your practice to say this? The audacity of this man.
“Of course I don't mind”, you smile kindly, acting as unbothered as you possibly can. This is something you learned in so many years of having eyes on you all the time: pretend. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry or even get mad. If you are able to pretend you don't care at all about him, that's what you're gonna do.
“I'm glad-”, his smile falters a bit, you are sure he expected you to break. That shows how little he knows about you, you would never make a scene in public.
“Actually, I'm even seeing someone else already”, you blurt out, trying to make him more baffled and it works, he frowns and the look of confusion in his face is priceless.
“Well, that's great for you”, Seunghoon clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “We should definitely go on a double date sometime”
“Of course, I'd love that”, you nod, standing up. “I'll be going now, but it was great seeing you”, you lie, turning around and walking back to the gymnasium.
When it sinks in what you just did, you want to hit your head against the wall. What the hell was that? Why would you even tell him you're seeing someone when you're not? For fucksake, you're sure he's too proud to let this go, he'll try to find out who it is that you're seeing and when he finds out you lied, you'll be done for, faced with utter humiliation again.
“Why would you tell him you're seeing someone?” Mina asks, looking at you like you are the dumbest person alive, and honestly, you do feel like that at the moment.
“I don't know”, you cry out, “I guess I wanted him to feel miserable”
“And look where that got you”, Miyeon says, worriedly.
“I know, I'm an idiot”, you tell them and your friends nod, making you glare at them. “Well, I guess I'll just have to find a new boyfriend”, you say, dreadfully.
“You know it's not that easy”, Mina says, “you built Seunghoon from the scratch to the guy he is today, it won't have the same effect if you get just anybody that people already see everyday, it has to be shocking”
“Well, I don't know”, you sigh, “is there even someone like that here?”
“I don't know”, Miyeon says, “you need someone charming, someone who people can't take their eyes off”
“It won't be good if he's already known, it should be someone who's usually invisible”, Mina completes.
You sigh, there's only one person you can think of who instantly fits that description.
“What about him?” Miyeon takes you out of your thoughts, pointing to someone behind you. “Isn't he part of 3racha?”
“I mean, he fits what we are looking for”, Mina says.
You turn around, finding the guy you bumped on a few days ago sitting at the table behind you, you're sure you can remember his name if you just try a little harder. He's sitting with Changbin, the other guy from 3racha who is kind of your friend.
“But is there something for you to do there?” Mina looks at him with squinted eyes, trying to see how you could improve him.
“He's cute”, you check him out shamelessly, nodding to yourself.
“I'm not sure if you could make Seunghoon jealous with cuteness”, she shrugs.
“He's not just cute”, you bit your bottom lip, thinking hard. “He could use a different haircut and maybe a new wardrobe but I see a lot of potential in there”
“Well”, Mina sighs in defeat, “let's make a bet them”
“Are you in middle school?” You ask her, rolling your eyes.
“If you can make Seunghoon regret cheating on you, I'll give up on trying for cheer captain next semester”, she ignores your question, stretching her hand for you to shake it.
“As if you were going to win anyway”, you joke.
Of course she could win, Mina is your best friend and also the best dancer you know, she could easily steal your position if you didn't try so hard to keep it, so you do what you have to do, shaking her hand even though you don't have a good feeling about it.
It's been a few days since you decided to make Jisung your new boyfriend, you just haven't figured out how to approach him. For starters, you can't even find him in this damn university, how the hell can a member from a trio as popular as 3racha just walk around without being noticed? That's a mystery you'll have to solve later.
“Jisung? Why would you want me to set you up with him?” Changbin asks, confused.
“Well, I find him cute”, you shrug, that's not a lie.
“He's not your type, he's totally different from Seunghoon”, he stares at you with a brow raised, sipping from his drink.
“Why would I want someone like Seunghoon? My reputation is almost ruined because of that guy”, you say.
“You got a point”, Changbin sighs, “let me talk to him first”, he can feel something is up but with all the mess happening in his life already, he doesn't have the energy to dig any deeper.
Jisung stares at his friend for about five minutes, no words being said. Why would someone like you want to go out with someone like him?
He's pretty popular because of 3racha, but not near as popular as you or your friend group. Everyone knows he's an awkward guy, when he's on stage his personality changes, he's confident, it feels great, like he could conquer the world, but when he goes back to real life, he just doesn't feel the need to be perceived. Jisung doesn't have a reason to be popular outside of the stage, he's fine with being invisible.
“So, what do you think?” Changbin asks.
“I don't know”, Jisung shrugs.
“Think carefully, it's not everyday that someone like y/n wants to go on a date with an ordinary guy”, the older one insists.
Well, maybe he likes being ordinary. He always thought he wouldn't be like those guys who would do anything for a pretty girl, now it's his chance to prove it.
“You can tell her that I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it's a good idea”, Jisung says, confidently. Even though he wants to punch himself after saying it.
Changbin sighs.
“If you're sure about it”, he shrugs, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
What if he's just letting his prejudice get in the way of meeting someone nice? He sighs to himself, there's nothing he can do about it now.
Well, that's unexpected. Did you go so low as to be rejected by just anybody? How could Jisung not even accept a single date with you? Are you ugly? No, you're sure it's not that. Are you boring? It's not that either, of course. You don't think there's a single thing that would make him turn you down. Maybe you're not his type? No, you're everyone's type.
You won't give up, though. Han Jisung has too much potential for you to just leave him be, you're sure you can make him be even better than Seunghoon ever was. So you march to social studies, you asked Changbin who reluctantly told you that Jisung takes that class.
You enter the classroom earning a few glances, smiling kindly at the people you know and introducing yourself to the ones you don't.
Jisung is seated in the corner, writing something on his notebook, earbuds on. You walk up to him, sitting by his side and waiting for him to notice you, which doesn't take long. He feels a presence too close to him, making him turn to look at you.
He frowns, taking his earbuds slowly, trying to process your present so close to him.
“How can I help you?” He asks and you tilt your head, he's even cuter up close.
“I heard you turned me down”, you say, leaning over the desk to watch him.
“Yeah, sorry”, he shrugs nonchalantly, hurting your pride even more. He should feel at least a bit apologetic, shouldn’t he?
“What do I have to do for you to go out with me?” You push more. You even came here looking for him, you're not going to be discouraged just by a bit of indifference.
“Why do you want to go out with me anyway?” He frowns, it’s not that he doesn’t want to say yes, it’s just that every time that he feels tempted to actually lust over you his pride gets a little more hurt, did you think there was no chance of you being rejected by him?
“Well, I like you. You're cute”, you tell him as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“You don't even know me”, he scoffs, ignoring the fact that you called him cute.
“That's exactly why I want to go out with you, dummy. So I can get to know you better”, you smile, knowing he won't be able to get out of this situation without telling you why he won't go out with you.
“Well, you’re not my type”, he clears his throat, adjusting himself on his seat and trying to sound convincing, you’re clearly everyone’s type. “And I don’t think we would have much to talk about”
You’re going to fight him on this, argue that you’re a very interesting person that can talk about a lot of things, but the professor enters the classroom, eyeing you and tilting his head in confusion, since you passed this class last semester.
“I’m going to let it go for now”, you stand, “but don’t think you’re getting rid of me”, you huff, walking out of the class. He sure is stubborn, but you’re more.
Jisung feels like he's in those movies with a stalker following him around. You know, when the protagonist is sure that someone is watching them but every time they look around there's no one there? Except that in his case, you're always there. Every place he goes has you in it, glaring at him.
You're not actually glaring at him, even though he thinks you're. You're just shocked that he still hasn't come around to accepting going out with you, so you have to stare at him because you have to understand him. Why is he so different from the other guys? Of course you don't think you're better than anyone, but since news of your break up with Seunghoon broke out, your phone has been blowing up with texts from guys you didn't even know had your number, saying weird things and asking you out. So why is the only person you want to hear from, not giving a shit about you?
You ask Changbin's help but he refuses to meddle anymore than he already has, saying that he knows your intentions are not entirely good so he won't help anymore.
“Did you know we have a class with your new crush?” Mina says while looking at herself in the mirror of the clothes store you're visiting.
“What?” You take your eyes out of your phone to look at her, you have been staring at your screen for thirty minutes, trying to fight the urge to just call Jisung. He gave you his number so you could charge him with the repair of your broken phone but you already had it fixed, maybe you could use that little incident to your advantage.
“We have French with him, you chose Spanish, right?” Miyeon asks, looking around to see if she likes anything.
“Are you for real?” You ask and she looks at you, nodding. “Do you think there are still open spots in your class?” You ask, lost in thoughts.
“You're not going to switch classes just so you can get close to him, right?” Mina turns around to look at you, a brow raised in questioning. “Right?” She presses after you don't answer.
“I kinda prefer French though”, you smirk, standing up. “The school's office is still open now, isn't it?” You ask and both of your friends exchange looks, sighing and shaking their heads, sure that you're a lost cause.
It was not difficult to switch classes, you used up all your charm with the office’s secretary so she wouldn't argue too much about it. You just need a warm smile, some tiramisu and to compliment her nails.
You enter the class smiling victoriously, seeing your friends seated side by side and finding Jisung sitting alone in the back. You waltz over there, putting your things on the desk and sitting by his side.
Jisung takes a deep breath, side eyeing you for a moment.
“Are you serious right now?” He sighs, “you know you can't just keep coming to my classes, right? That's lowkey stalking”, he argues, making you chuckle.
“I don't know what you're talking about”, you shrug, “I'm enrolled in this class”, you tell him, pulling a paper with your schedule printed on it and showing it to him. “This is the only spot available”
He looks around to check, biting his bottom lip, embarrassed. He should have checked before assuming things but that doesn't change the fact that you have been around him too much lately.
“Okay”, he sighs, fidgeting on his seat.
“If I'm really making you uncomfortable I can find somewhere else to sit”, you say, even though you want to make him give in and accept to go out with you, you don't want him to feel genuinely bothered by you.
Jisung on the other hand feel likes he can give in at any moment, the second time he saw you looking at him he wanted to stand up and just go to you, telling you he would accept to go out with you, fuck his pride.
“It's okay”, he clears his throat, “You can sit whatever you want”, he says, making you smirk.
“I mean, are you sure?” You lean in his direction, glancing at his lap.
Jisung chokes immediately, coughing so much he thinks he's going to die, you didn't mean what he thinks you do, right?
Class starts before you can mess with him a little bit more, you didn't think you would have so much fun teasing someone.
Jisung stands up and leaves as soon as the professor says the class ended, he doesn't want to stay close to you for a minute more. He couldn't pay attention to class because your scent kept coming his way. He would glance at you and you wouldn't even be acknowledging him, paying 100% of attention in class. It did make him upset that he didn't seem to cause the same reaction in you as you do to him.
Except that, as stated before, you're very good at pretending. You really wanted to tease him every time you caught him staring at you, you could see everything he was doing with your peripheral vision and you wanted to giggle with every time he pouted while looking at you.
That's proof enough for you that not being his type it's not the reason why he's reluctant to go out with you but you didn't even think about the possibility of him not liking girls at all.
“As far as I know, he does like girls”, Changbin tells you. “I'm not sure about guys though, maybe he does too?”
“Well, that's good then”, you sigh, crossing your arms and nodding to yourself, lost in thoughts.
Changbin stares at you for a moment, with a brow raised. “Binnie, can't you help me out? Just this once” You plead again, giving him puppy eyes.
“Nope, I'm not sure what your intentions are but what I know is that you don't do things without a reason”, he shakes his head.
You sigh, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you know how to convince Changbin but it's the first time in your life that you have to resort to such dirty methods.
“You know, I met someone really nice one of these days”, you tell him, smiling friendly. “She's really cute and she has been helping me in a class we have together”, Changbin glares at you. “I think you know her, but she doesn't seem to like you at all…” You pout, making a show.
“What are you trying to say?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I'm trying to say that if you help me out, I can do the same”, you shrug, “you have so many virtues, Binnie, I'm confident I can make her see you in a different light”
You can at least try to convince her that Changbin is a good guy even though she's absolutely sure that he's bad news.
“Are you saying I should sell out my best friend so you can help me?” You see Changbin hesitate and that's when you push a little more.
“Come on, it's not like I'll do something awful to him”, you say, “I just want one date”
He sighs, nodding.
“Okay, alright”, he grunts. “I'll help you out just this one time and that's it”
“You're the best!” You say, clapping your hands excitedly.
This is definitely not how you thought the help would happen. The sun is burning your skin and the giggles of people around you are making you stressed. A pool party, why did he think this was going to be a good idea?
Just because you're at the same party as Jisung it doesn't mean you'll get a chance to talk to him or even accomplish your goal but even though the odds are against you, you are still going to try.
The day is too hot, the pool is bustling with people and you're uncomfortable in your bikini. In most days you love your body, you think you're pretty just the way you are but sometimes you have bad days, where you feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw you have.
You came to the party because you couldn't lose the opportunity but you can't see Jisung anywhere and your anxiety is only growing bigger. So as soon as you get the chance to escape, you do it. You wander around the frat house, looking for a place with no one, maybe Changbin's room is empty since he pretty much doesn't live in the house.
You walk up the stairs, swerving in the middle of the crowd who are talking and laughing with drinks in their hands, it's very overwhelming.
The corridor where the rooms are have less people, so you walk until the end to find Changbin's nameplate on the door. You knock twice to make sure there's no one there, the music in the pool is pretty loud so you can't hear if there are voices in the room but you wait a few seconds so people can get dressed if there is someone fucking there. You open the door slowly, finding the room empty. Hurrying inside and closing the door so no one sees you going in.
It's a pretty huge room with things that suit Changbin's personality to a T. There's gym equipment all over the place, a big bed in the middle, a door you can only guess leads to a private bathroom and a TV that you're not sure was ever used. But again, your friend only comes by the house once in a while since he lives in an apartment downtown with Chan and Jisung.
Changbin managed to convince Jisung that it would be a good way to promote 3racha if they threw a party and it didn't take much convincing to the frat president since that guy loves partying.
You sit by the bed, trying to take deep breaths. The burning sensation in your chest is easing a bit with the calm and silence of the room. Silence that is immediately interrupted by the door of the bathroom being opened, just to show a half naked Han Jisung coming out of there with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
You two stare at each other for a minute, both not sure what to do next, both frozen. You manage to stand up, turning your back to him, face burning with embarrassment.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone already here”, you clarify. “I- I knocked on the door”, you inform him as if that could change anything.
Jisung finds your reaction funny, he didn't take you for the shy type, who gets flustered by seeing a man like this.
“I was showering, I didn't hear the knock”, he says, walking to Changbin's wardrobe to get some clothes he leaves there for eventual emergencies since the frat house is closer than his house to the university.
“Yeah, I guessed that”, you gulp, trying to calm your beating heart. You didn't get to take a good look at him, but the little you did made you quite surprised. Jisung is pretty athletic and hot.
“You can turn around now”, he says. You do it slowly, still embarrassed.
“I'm sorry again”, you sigh.
“It's okay, it can happen”, he shrugs, sitting on the bed. He can't help but look at you too for a moment, you're wearing a deep green bikini that goes perfectly with the tone of your skin. You have a thin transparent shirt that doesn't leave much to the imagination making him bite his bottom lip. If you try to make a move on him again right now, he won't be able to say no.
However, his not very pure thoughts are interrupted by your uneasiness, shifting your weight from a leg to another, hands trying to cover your thighs. Did he look at you for too long? Did he make you uncomfortable? Jisung diverts his gaze from you immediately, he's always proud to say that he's not the same as the other guys who are just horny and nothing more, but look at him now.
“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable”, he stands up, ready to leave the room, “I'm sorry”
“No, you didn't make me uncomfortable”, you say, taking a step closer to him to stop him from leaving. “I was already feeling not great”, you clarify.
“Did something happen?” He asks, worried.
“No- I-”, you stop yourself from talking more, why do you actually want to talk to him about your problems? You don't even know him. “I'm having a bad day, my self esteem is kinda low so I feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw I have”
Jisung stops for a moment, malfunctioning. His head tilting to the side as he stares at you with furrowed brows.
“Exactly which “flaws” are we talking about?” He asks, making quotes with his fingers.
“I don't know”, you glance down to your feet, feeling embarrassed. “There are so many girls here who are much prettier than me”, you sigh, “oh, I'm not jealous of them, they are great. I'm a huge activist of women hyping up other women”, you add quickly. “Usually I won't let myself compare to other people, but when I'm having one of these days I just can't help to think things like: is my hair pretty enough? Should I go on a diet? Maybe I should hit the gym more often so I can look like that”, you sigh, you sound ridiculous. You are supposed to make him want to go out with you, not scare him with all your insecurities.
Jisung stares at you for a few seconds, realization hitting him. So you're human too, he already knew that, but seeing the pretty and popular y/n come out of the pedestal people built for her, makes him believe that maybe you're very different from what he thought about you.
“I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this”, Jisung clears his throat, trying to not sound like an idiot, “but I think you're pretty and even though you may have some flaws, everyone has. I can assure you yours are not in your looks”
You feel your cheeks growing hotter, that's surprising, a guy never managed to make you blush.
“But you said I'm not your type”, you pout, seizing the opportunity to tease him.
“Well, I had to say something so you would stop coming after me”, he sighs, “clearly it didn't work”
“So, will you go out with me?” You ask, hopeful and he sighs.
“Why do you want to go out with me so badly?”
“I already told you, you're cute. Also, you make me feel at ease”, it's not a lie. Jisung is the first person other than your friends that effortlessly makes you comfortable.
“Fine”, he huffs, “I already gave you my number so just text me”, he tells you and you smile, is this finally happening? Did he finally say yes?
You planned a whole date in an amusement park, it's cliche for a first date, although you never really went on a date there. You have never done this before for any guy you dated, but there's something about Han Jisung, you just want him to like you.
He's waiting for you in front of the park, looking nervous while scrolling through his phone. You bend down a bit, tilting your head to make him notice you.
“Hey”, you smile waiting for his greeting that doesn't come. Jisung is not easily impressionable but you just leave him speechless every time, he always takes a few seconds to take in your beauty before his brain starts functioning again.
That's the reaction you wanted from him and you are glad you managed to get it. You spent almost four hours getting ready, changed outfits at least ten times and did and redid your makeup over and over. In the end, you chose a natural look. You put on a tight high waisted skirt, a tank top and sneakers since you would be walking a lot. Your hair is down and your make-up is light, so it won't get smudged by hot weather.
“H-hi”, Jisung says, trying to recompose himself, he's not sure if he should comment on how pretty you look or if that would make you uncomfortable.
He can't help but think that it's wrong of him to be there with someone like you, someone totally out of his reach.
“What should we do first?” You ask excitedly, it's been years since the last time you went to an amusement park with your family.
“I think we can walk for a bit and see what catches our attention”, he says and you nod, walking into the park.
There are so many people, Jisung can't help but notice how you're looking around like a child getting to know a new place.
“Do you come often to these kinds of places?” He asks.
“Hm, not really”, you answer, turning around to look at him. “The last time was when I was a child probably”
“Oh?” He frowns. “You seemed excited, I thought your ex boyfriend must have brought you here at least a few times”
“Yeah, well, he was not really the romantic type”, you shrug, a sad smile on your lips.
Jisung doesn't like that, you always look confident and happy, he doesn't want to see you sad again.
“He is an idiot then”, he avoids your gaze, looking around while speaking, “If I had a girlfriend like you, I would move heavens and earth to make her happy”
You feel your heart skip a bit, your cheeks growing warmer and in a few seconds your whole face is burning. You can't believe Han Jisung is making you blush again, saying these words that are messing with your heartbeat.
“Should we go to the haunted house?” You ask awkwardly, trying to change the subject, pointing to the building at the end of the park. You try not looking at him, not sure if your cheeks are still red.
He hums, not really understanding why you look so flustered, he's sure you must hear this kind of thing all the time.
You two enter the house, looking around while walking into the dark. You were very confident in the beginning, you love horror movies, but jump scares are really not your cup of tea and that's the problem. The moment a doll(you assume) holding a knife with a ghost face mask pops out of nowhere you jump… into Jisung's arms. The way his arms immediately wrap around you in a protective position does something to your heart and honestly you feel hot all over.
You didn't even notice the little scares he got, or how he squeezed you every time some scary character showed up. The only thing you noticed was his unexpected strong arms embracing you the whole time until you left the haunted house.
Jisung didn't want to let you go. The moment he felt the cold breeze touching his skin, he knew he had to step back, you are not scared anymore. But he just doesn't want to. You look fragile, shy, endearing. Jisung shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking this, he thought he would be immune to your charms, but it turns out that he understands now why all those guys fawned over you.
He tries taking a step back, threatening to get away from you but you snuggle closer to him, a hand swinging fast to your shoulder so you could grip his hand in place.
“Can- can you keep holding me for a bit?” You ask awkwardly, not really wanting to look him in the eye.
You had no idea you missed being touched this much, you never noticed how cold Seunghoon’s touch was until you felt Jisung's warm hands on you. You're embarrassed for looking so fragile in front of him but not enough for you to let go, not at that moment.
“Yeah, sure”, he tells you, coming closer again and squeezing you against his chest. “Should we walk around for a bit?”
You nod, too lost in his scent to say anything.
Jisung felt strange for a moment. He's not used to letting his instincts take control, he's a very restrained guy. But he can't help but peek at your thighs when the skirt you're wearing rides up a bit, you're tiptoeing while trying to shoot the target with the water gun you have in your hands, like that would help you win.
“Do you really want that plushie?” He asks when you lose once more. “You could probably buy a better one with the money you're spending”, he points out and you pout.
“Where's the fun in that?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It's so much more exciting to win the prize”
Jisung finds you cute, you are just so different from all the rumors and how he thought you would be. Other than being someone who's high and mighty or arrogant, you're cute and funny.
Defeated, he sighs, paying for another round. This time he's the one trying.
It's difficult the first time. He never played this game so he has to get used to and understand how to win.
Jisung doesn't notice but you're not looking at the booth or to the target, you're looking at his face. He looks more handsome when he's focused, he has his lips pressed in a thin line and his grip on the water gun makes you shudder just thinking about how that grip would feel on you.
After a few tries, Jisung wins, asking you to choose what plushie you want.
“That one”, you point to the big quokka hanging in the wall. “It looks a bit like you”, you say when you get the plushie, lifting enough so you can compare it with Jisung.
“I'm cuter”, he pouts.
“Definitely”, you assure him, hugging your new plushie while Jisung’s ears grow hotter.
“Should we go to the ferris wheel?” He asks, looking at the time. It'll probably be your last ride since it's already late.
“Yes!” You jump excitedly, “I never had the chance before”, you say while you two walk in the direction of the big attraction.
“Not even when you were a child?” He asks, remembering you said that was the last time you went to an amusement park.
“My parents are not very fun to be around and my little brother was too young”, you say, shaking your head, “I was never very proficient in doing things by myself so I just didn't go”, you shrug.
Jisung feels that there's more to unpack into that topic, but he's not sure if you want to talk about it with him or right now. So he just slides his arm over your shoulder, surprising you by his bold move. You can feel your cheeks growing hot, are you blushing again?
When you hear the gears turning, excitement spreads all over your body but as soon as the cabin stops in the air, you're not so confident anymore.
“It's quite high, isn't it?” you say, looking down, feeling a little dizzy.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Jisung asks, panicked, seeing your face turning pale.
“No, of course not”, you shake your head frantically while shrinking in your seat, “I can't, I'm always at the top of the pyramid in our cheer stunts”, you tell him.
A sudden wave of air brushes over the cabin, making it shake slightly and you turn even more pale if that's even possible.
“You know it's different right?” He grabs you by the arm, pulling you closer to him. Jisung slides one of his hands on your waist, squeezing you close to him and with the other hand he cups your face, making you look at him. “Keep looking at me, you don't have to look down”
Jisung doesn't know why he feels this urge to protect you, of all the people he knows, you're probably the one he thinks needs the least protection. You keep staring at him, he is pretty, his lips are plump and inviting.
“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask when he licks his lips, huge doe eyes staring at him and waiting.
“Do you want me to?” He asks back, not really sure of what to do. Jisung is not certain, his heart is beating fast and his hands are sweating, you look so beautiful, so close to him.
So when you nod, he just loses control of every part of himself that was holding him back. He's sure after this, there's no going back, he's lost forever, but maybe he doesn't mind if it means it's you he's lost in.
His lips are soft, clumsily pressing against yours. You can tell he's unsure of how to proceed then why does his grip on you make you burn? He's squeezing your waist against his body like you're going to disappear if he doesn't hold you strongly and the hand he has cupping your cheeks, slowly slides to your hair, pulling it lightly, making you whimper.
In an instant his lips are not on yours anymore, he's trailing kisses down to your neck. You shiver, feeling his warm lips against your cold skin.
“Ah, Ji-Jisung”, you gasp when he bites your neck, sucking the area so deliciously it makes you bite your lips so you won't moan.
He hears your plea, kissing you once again and you notice you are the one that didn't know how to proceed. You've been squirming in his hands this whole time without touching him at all. You take a hand to his face, caressing his cheek and the other goes to his hip, pulling you even closer to him but before you can go further, the shake of the cabin going back down takes you out of your haze. You're in public, you had absolutely forgotten about that.
You stop the kiss, giving a peck on his lips before moving away. He looks disheveled, lips swollen and eyes searching for yours in an attempt to know exactly what you are thinking. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Now that he got a taste of something he should have remained oblivious to, he's not sure he'll be able to let go.
The ride home was awkward, to say the least. You are silent the whole time and Jisung is freaking out. He can't help but think he screwed up really badly. How the hell could he make you lose all interest with just a couple of kisses? Did he go too far by giving you a hickey? Maybe you don't like this kind of thing, you're a cheerleader after all, your image is important.
You on the other hand, have too many thoughts running through your mind, never did a man make you feel so desired with just a kiss. The way he embraced you so possessively was too much for you, Seunghoon never did anything like that. You were always the one searching for his touch, for some affection but it was never quite enough. His touches never really gave you what you wanted, you always thought it was weird, you thought maybe there was something wrong with you.
But how could Jisung make you feel so many things with a simple touch? A simple kiss? You're so lost in thoughts that you don't even notice when the car stops.
“We’re here”, Jisung says, not really looking at you.
You look at him, seeing him biting his bottom lip while squeezing the wheel.
“I had fun”, you tell him, shyly. His head snaps at you, a deep scowl on his face.
“You did?” He asks confused and you giggle, tilting your head.
“Yeah”, you bite your bottom lip, leaning over him without breaking eye contact. “I thought I made it clear by almost melting in your arms while you kissed me”, you tease, seeing his ears growing red.
“I thought maybe I did something wrong, you were quiet”, he looks at you waiting for some more reassurance.
“I'm sorry”, you cup his face, caressing his cheek, “it's been a long time since I felt the way you made me feel, I needed time to recover”, you tell him, pulling him in for a brief kiss.
“Wait, but what about-”
“That's what I'm telling you”, you chuckle, bitterly, “can you imagine feeling more in a night than you ever felt in a year with someone else? It really makes a girl think”
“Ah”, he nods, understanding what you're saying now. “Then, can I call you when I get home?” He asks eagerly, now that he knows that you did enjoy your time with him.
“I'd be mad if you didn't”, you give a peck on his lips, getting out of the car and walking to your front door, waving goodbye to him.
Walking into your empty house you come back to reality. For a moment, just a moment, while having fun with Jisung, you forgot how lonely you really are. It's always been like this, you're already used to it.
Your parents always wanted a boy, so it was disappointing for them when they had a girl. They tried for years to have a boy, getting more and more frustrated as time went by. You were five when they finally made it, their desired son was born and you were left aside.
It's not like they gave you any attention before, but after your brother was born, you were completely forgotten. The first time you went to an amusement park was when you were eight. It was your birthday and you begged them to take you there but in the end you couldn't really enjoy anything. Your brother was too little to play in anything and your parents didn't really want to play with you.
You feel a single tear run down your cheek but you shake your head, you shouldn't be doing that right now. You had fun with Jisung but that's that, you don't want another heartbreak the same as with Seunghoon.
You feel your phone buzzing, taking it out of your pocket to see Jisung's name lightening the screen and an involuntary smile grows on your lips, completely ignoring what you just thought.
“Hey, did you arrive safely?” You ask, walking up the stairs.
“Yeah”, he says, not sure why exactly he wanted to call you. He already said goodnight to you, did he want to hear your voice again? Why is he being so weird tonight?
“Okay, that's good”, you chuckle, putting the phone on speaker to start undressing.
Jisung sits in his bed, he knows you're probably tired but he doesn't want to hang up.
“What are you doing?” He asks, hearing the shuffle on the other side of the line.
“I'm changing”, you answer nonchalantly, not knowing how red his whole face turns the moment you finish saying that.
He doesn't say anything, making you look to the phone to check if he's still there.
“Want some pictures?” You ask playfully, making him choke on his own breath, coughing violently.
“No, I mean we- we just had our first date- I- I don't want you to think- it's too soon”, he rambles saying all that in half a second, making you laugh genuinely while you wander around your room.
You snap a picture of yourself, sending it to him and he freezes when he sees the notification. When he opens the text though, you're wearing a cute pajama with bees stamped on it, making him laugh too.
“You're cute”, he says and you stop in your tracks.
“It's been years since someone last called me cute”, you pout, sliding under your covers.
Jisung guessed that much, your type of beauty is not on the cute side. You have sharp features, most people could say you're on the sexy side and he would too, before tonight. Now, under the cover of a popular hot girl, he found a girl who's hot and popular but can be cute and funny too.
“Goodnight, y/n”, he says, throwing himself back in the bed.
“Goodnight”, you say, feeling your eyes heavy after hearing his goodbye.
Part 2
A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#k-labels#han jisung scenarios#han jisung x reader#han jisung imagines#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x you#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#skz imagine#skz fluff#skz angst#han jisung fluff#han jisung angst#skz masterlist#skz han jisung
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to go w ur recent rafe post..top and kelce meeting rafes gf for the first time n she’s so sickly sweet they’re confused on how she’s able to date rafe, has a big mouth too and LOVES to talk them. they’re too scared of rafe to completely hold the convo but they try to mumble things here and there bc if they upset her they upset rafe !!
𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤
overprotective!rafe x fem!reader imagine
trigger warnings : fem!reader , explicit language , drinking , mentions of drugs & alcohol , kinda ‘girly’ reader , fluff , rafe overthinking? , oblivious reader , over protective rafe , topper and kelce being absolutely AWFUL liars/actors , reader is friends with sarah , ward is mentioned (🤮🤮🤮)
summary : topper and kelce are tired of rafes new girlfriend stealing the spotlight, so they invite her to boys night to see why she’s so special.
authors note : THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !! i love this idea, i hope i did it justice :). feel free to drop more requests my way ppl, i write for other obx characters too !! also lmk if i missed any warnings please.
english is not my first language, forgive me
BRIEFLY proofread
rafe, kelce, and topper had a planned ‘boys night’. they’d hangout almost everyday, but on these planned nights, probably once or twice a month, they’d have a more ‘extra’ hangout. they’d go to tanneyhill (or one of the other boys houses), and watch sports or movies on huge screens with overloads of snacks and alcohol (and probably drugs too), and just hang out.
when rafe first announced to them he had gotten a girlfriend, they weren’t shocked. rafe had gotten himself many ‘girlfriends’ over the time they’d known him, but most of them lasted no more than a few weeks. they’d put on their usual show of being mad, all the ‘you better not abandon us because you’re pussy whipped’ shit, never expecting it to actually become a problem.
but, it actually did this time. you two had been dating for almost 2 months now, not a super long time but definitely longer than his past relationships. he would easily skimp out on plans with the boys, saying you wanted him to come over or the two of you had plans. and it wasn’t just you orchestrating everything, they noticed how rafe was starting to initiate plans with you too, saying he was leaving to go surprise you after you got off work etc. right in the middle of hanging out with them. they were fine with it at first, but now it was getting a little annoying.
so, they told rafe to invite you to boys night. it was scheduled to be at tanneyhill this time, so they figured when you got bored you’d leave rafe with them and go to hang out with sarah or something. it wasn’t thought out very much beyond that, but they knew you were friends with sarah, and because it was scheduled at rafes house, they didn’t figure he could escape it.
he argued at first, saying you probably weren’t going to want to go, and you might be busy that night, but after they convinced him to ask you, and you said yes, all plans were a go.
you were excited, honestly. you had picked out your outfit the day before (even though it was just a hangout with your boyfriends friends, and your outfit was just a casual dress). rafe barely let you wear that, insisting you were going to be uncomfortable, and that it was just a hangout. but you wanted to make a good first impression (plus you’d take any excuse to play dress up). you got dolled up a little, threw some jewelry on, and the two of you headed over to tanney hill.
you two walked down into the cameron’s tv hangout area. it wasn’t their main living room, it was in the basement and it was more of an ‘indoor movie theater’ vibe. it had a long black leather sectional, a few bean bag chairs, and a large wooden coffee table. it was filled with snacks; chips, nachos, charcuterie board (the kind they sell at the store), popcorn, candy, etc. off to the side of the room you could see a mini fridge, which kelce and topper were standing near, assumingly ‘getting the party started’, as there was most likely not water in that fridge.
when you hit the bottom step and they locked eyes with you, their jaws almost comedically dropped. you waved at them excitedly, your face lighting up, and rafe just smiled at them, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
you practically ran over to them, and their faces remained shocked.
“hi! it’s so nice to finally meet you guys!! rafe has told me sooo much.” you blabbered out, following that by introducing yourself. you were twitchy, not in a nervous way, but in a ‘barely containing your excitement’ way. you shifted your weight from foot to foot and topper genuinely thought you would’ve started jumping up and down if you got any more excited. your loose curls bounced as you moved, and the bottom of your dress swayed.
“hey..” they were still at a loss for words, even more stunned at your energy than your looks. but their minds quickly came back to them when rafe wandered over, practically shoving them out of the way and bending down to grab a drink out of the fridge. they looked at him as he stood back up and rafe just smiled at them again, but it wasn’t a good smile, rafes never were. it was a threatening one.
little did they know how much rafe dreaded this. rafe barely let you come in the first place. you had agreed to it over text, but the second he got to talk to you face to face he pleaded for you to pull out of the plans. rafe was still stunned how he managed to keep a girl like you for this long; you were practically a princess, you were overly sweet, outgoing, girly, you had straight a’s, and you were so sickly innocent too. you were pretty much the exact opposite of rafe. and he tried his best to hide that fact, especially after he realized you were sticking around.
he stopped going to parties (for the most part) unless there was an extremely necessary reason for him to go. he spent as much time with you as he could. he’d pamper you; buying you gifts, surprising you at work, driving you everywhere you wanted to go, taking you out for expensive and romantic dinners, etc. he was committed to making this work. he knew you didn’t care, he knew that you’d love him no matter what, but he felt the need to upkeep a pristine image for you. and that’s where the boys came in. normally he’d flaunt his new girl, bring her to all the parties he went to, show her off, brag about her. but he wanted to keep you all to himself. he thought topper and kelce were ‘too rowdy’, and too much for you in general, so he kept his friends and you separate. he only ever talked about them, never showed you them. till now, of course.
you stood there, biting your lip in anticipation, still waiting for them to say literally anything other than hey. when rafe shot them another look, they did. he wanted them to atleast say something. rafe knew you had been anticipating meeting his friends, and he knew how excited you were to talk to them. he’d entertain it for a minute or so, because the boys blowing you off or being dicks to you would probably piss him off even more than them overly talking to you.
“oh uh, i’m topper and this is kelce.” topper let out, clearly holding his breath a little. they both swallowed thickly, sharing each other glances, not knowing what to do next. thankfully, rafe seemed to have more than enough of you three interacting at that point, and tugged you over to the couch with him.
“sorry, i’ll be right back.” you apologetically laughed before turning and letting rafe tug you the rest of the way back to the couch.
rafe put a protective hand on your ass as you walked, sharing the boys a glance, and they very quickly turned to face the wall, muttering many renditions of ‘what the fuck dude’ and ‘what are we supposed to do’s under their breaths.
rafe tucked you into the corner of the couch, pulling a throw blanket off the back and gently covering you with it along with putting a few pillows around you.
“you comfy?” he mumbled, and you barely heard him with how much he was grimacing.
“yea baby thank you, but i wasn’t done talkin-“
“no, you were done.” he met your eyes, and before a frown could form on your mouth, he quickly added;
“you can talk to ‘em more later. aight?” and that was it.
rafe eventually got comfy beside you, only after getting you any snack or beverage you wanted from the assortment of options. kelce and topper settled too, sitting very far away from you both in the two bean bag chairs. if rafe hadn’t completely blocked your sight of them, you would’ve definitely thought they didn’t like you or something.
the movie they had decided on (some random comedy) came and went. it was only a few minutes before the end when rafes phone started to buzz in his pocket. he ignored it for the first few buzzes, but when he realized they weren’t giving up, he pulled it out. it was ward.
“hey baby, i’m so sorry, i gotta take this, you can stand upstairs and wait for me it really shouldn’t be long i-“
“you’re totally fine rafe, go ahead babe. i’m good here.” you quickly reassured, smiling at him. and he quickly ran up and out of the basement, not before shooting a lethal look towards kelce and topper.
the movie ended soon after, and you were left with the awkward playing of the credits song. after a few uncomfortable minutes, you stood up and decided to take actions into your own hands, seeing they weren’t going to talk to you.
you wandered over to topper and kelce, who quickly looked away from you as soon as you started towards them. kelce struggled to pull his phone out of his shorts pocket, which proved to be more difficult than he had expected, so he quickly switched to awkwardly holding his hands together in his lap. topper on the other hand was making it painfully obvious he was trying to look at you, practically breaking his kneck to look in the opposite direction.
“hey guys!” you smiled at them, sweet as ever, holding you hands behind your back. “so, tell me about yourselves! i mean ive heard soooo much from rafe, but like, tell me from your perspectives ya know? i heard you two like golf, my dad actually-“
“you know.. we actually gotta go.. for a smoke break!” kelce interrupted before you could get too much of a conversation started.
“oh shit yea! we reeeeally gotta go for a smoke break.” topper said as he snapped his head towards kelce, instantly relieved that he came up with an out.
“but i-“
“we are really sooooo sorry.” topper sarcastically reassured, smiling at you as the two of them practically threw themselves out of their seats, walking backwards in the direction of the stairs, tripping over each other a little on the way there.
“yea we are sososososo sorry.” kelce added, hoping to be convincing enough.
“oh, okay! can i come-“
“you should really go check on rafe actually! he’s been gone for a whiiiile now.. i sure hope he’s okay…” topper added, over exaggerating to hopefully get your attention elsewhere. rafe hadn’t even been gone for 10 minutes. you looked down at your feet as you over thought the idea, and when you looked back up to thank them for reminding you, they were long gone.
#obx#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx imagine#obx cast#obx smut#fanfic#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic
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hi, hi! could I ask for pt 2 of the twst "what to expect when your lab experiment drinks formula," I just thought it was rlly cute!☺ you can do any sort of characters, I don't mind!
What to Expect When your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula Pt. 2
Hihi! Actually, I wrote that scenario for all the characters in twst I'm writing for right now (I'm new to the fandom), so I've gone ahead and made this into a followup on how they're doing as parents, hope you don't mind! Thanks the ask!
Warnings: Mild Chap 7 spoiler (Lilia), Rook & Floyd want so many kids your house is going to look like the 100 baby sims challenge.
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Part one! Rook Hunt! Part Two (here), Part Three!
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus is running wild with the new heir. As much as he loves you, so much of his time is occupied by playing with his baby that you don't even see him around as often as you used to.
Your new baby is named Ormr, an ancient name directly meaning 'dragon'. Malleus pouted for a bit that it didn't start with 'Mal' but you assured him that it could be a great fresh start before the Draconia family ran out of names.
While you were still a bit disoriented by the strange circumstances, you were adjusting just fine to being a parent. Your little one kept you on your toes, breathing fire onto your homework when you weren't giving them enough attention and flying away with your food when Malleus taught them how to fly short distances.
Get out the broom. There's a dragon baby with a pb&j on the ceiling.
Malleus' love of your child surprised you a bit. Though you had known that he had technically set up the entire creation of the child, you never expected for Malleus to take so strongly to the little dragon fae.
To be fair, the entirety of Briar Valley seemed to rejoice at the news of your little one, so you supposed that your child was more important than it would be to a normal family. This was the continuation of his bloodline, without posing any risk of losing you, his favorite Child of man.
It was perfect, a blissful life together.
Malleus is constantly supportive of you and works hard to be both a father and a partner. He never fails to make your family feel loved and connected, even in trying times.
Rook Hunt
Rook's baby is... Rook's baby.
The little creature is mischievous, even for its young age.
It may not be able to crawl, but provided anything of importance is in its general vicinity, it will be swiped, hidden, or destroyed with an innocent giggle.
Rook manages the child much better than you. Although you love your child to death, they seem to have inherited Rook's predatory mind in their entirety, and it makes Rook far more equipped to handle the baby's demeanor.
When you look away, you'll most certainly be hit with the first thing in reach of your little one. You blame Rook for this, who reveled in showing them documentaries on hunting through the ages from birth.
Soon, it's more complex weapons. Sharp rocks from your trip outside to play have somehow become entrapped in a very deliberately tangled slinky and thrown at the back of your head.
You know it's all in good fun between Rook & your little one, but your baby will be as skilled a hunter as Rook someday. He was not wrong to call your child his little hunter from the moment it fell into your arms.
Rook wants a large family, so you'd better be prepared for lots of little predators running around the house. Good luck trying to keep them from attempting to murder each other.
Extra: Rook is the type to remember that recipe to a tee. If you so much as mention having another child, ten more are going to show up the next day. Honestly he's waiting for you to slip up and mention it. He's absolutely in love with your family, and would be overjoyed to expand it. Best of luck to you.
Floyd Leech
As soon as you were asleep that night, little child snug in a makeshift bassinet next to you, Floyd was already sneaking out to create more children.
You woke up to six more on the bed with you, one of which woke you up directly by biting you for attention.
Overall you've had much trouble managing all the little literal ankle biters. If it weren't for the liberal help from Jade, Grim and Ace, you would not be able to manage all seven.
However, this does not stop you from loving them entirely. The babies love you to death, and you're extremely bonded to them as well. When you and Floyd fight, there's suddenly seven growling creatures lined up behind you, at the ready to attack.
Despite being 110% like Floyd, they are very certain in their favoritism. Two of your children refuse to have him nearby at all.
He claims it breaks his heart, but you catch him praising your little ones with frozen grapes and soda to reinforce their bond with you.
Definitely not what a baby should be fed but when you said they couldn't eat seafood he switched gears to 'land food', and would take no further criticisms.
The best times are cuddle nights. Twice a week, all of you cuddle up in your Ramshackle dorm room and cozy up to a movie and snacks. This continues until well into their childhoods let's be honest. It becomes a Leech family tradition.
Sebek Zigvolt
"Human! Get it! GET IT!!!"
Your baby is very adventurous.... or something close to it.
Always tumbling off furniture and rolling off changing tables, or falling down for some reason or other.
You can have ten sets of eyes on this child and it does not matter, this baby will stubbornly look into your eyes and throw itself off the couch.
There's so much chaos, constantly, when it comes to little baby Zigvolt.
Sebek's excellent training is the only reason that your child has not been hospitalized for concussions.
But his excellent training has not saved him from the baby's love of biting their father. So, so many times. Every time Sebek catches it.
Chomp.
Every time he bathes it.
Chomp.
Everytime he changes a diaper.
Chomp.
Sebek is covered in tiny little baby bites.
But oh, how your baby adores you. In between bouts of defiance and finger-snacking moods, your baby loves to lie in your arms and cuddle.
It's arguably the most comfortable time you get with Sebek and your baby.
And I do mean arguably, because Sebek swears up and down that the baby is happiest in the presence of Malleus, and it's a hill he's willing to die on. But you know he really just wants an excuse to show off your baby to Silver.
Silver is not impressed.
Your baby is the very definition of a headache to Sebek. They cry everytime they see Malleus, they hate any sort of regimen, they love to play and play and... play more. All day long. No work or training to be seen here, baby Zigvolt will NOT be having it unless you want 4 hours of ear-splitting tantrums. And the baby still won't do the work when they're done.
But still, you see Sebek in every aspect of your baby. The strength, the way your child loves you unconditionally, but treats everyone else cautiously, and overall, the refusal to do anything that doesn't align with their little baby whims.
You've lovingly termed your baby 'Stubborn Ziggy the Second'. Sebek is not a fan, but he allowed it after you let go of 'Swamp dog & Swamp puppy'.
Lilia Vanrouge
screaming.
And more screaming.
It is not the baby. It is you trying to find the baby.
"OH MY GOD I LOST IT, I LOST OUR BABY OH MY GOD---"
And then--
"Weh!" The baby pops its head out of a cabinet with its hands up the way Lilia does to scare them.
The baby giggles and coos at its own joke, making grabby hands while it waits for you to come get it.
You're just dumbfounded. You're going to have to scold Lilia, because now your little one is picking up on yet another one of his pranks.
Your baby is a lot like you, with one exception-- your baby is so playful and teasing that it honestly gives The Great Lilia Himself a run for his money.
Last week, you were frantically searching for an expensive piece of jewelry, when it dropped down on your head from the spot where little baby Vanrouge was apparently levitating it from.
Oh yes, your child's magic is coming in strong. Though Lilia's is fading, you tease that perhaps the little one is just absorbing it from him outright, showing him videos of your child's most recent magical displays of strength.
Your family bonds through jokes and playful faces, entirely. Lilia is probably a candidate for The Worst Parent on Earth, so you do most of the housework. It's not like Lilia's never offered, it's that you promised Silver not to let Lilia traumatize his little sibling. All of your best moments are spent by making space in your schedule for your family time.
Lil Vanrouge needs all your love, and Lilia Vanrouge does too. It's a fine balance between upsetting either of them, though dealing with hours of screaming and petty annoyance is not a hard decision.
Just make sure both are getting enough cuddles, and maybe don't judge growing-up lil Vanrouge when they decide they love gaming...
Azul Ashengrotto
Don't forget about Azul, please.
Your baby has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile, but is it as cute as Azul? Cuter, probably. But don't tell him that.
Azul loves your child with all his heart, but he's a bit miffed that it requires so much of your love and attention.
You and baby Ashengrotto are very bonded, so it's rare to see you apart for a moment. And in that moment... Azul is putting on Full-Drama Mode. Cuddles, cuddles. More cuddles. Give him a kiss. Could you please take a bath with him? He's just so tired, he doesn't think he can take a bath by himself. Would you mind giving him a massage? You're too tired? That's ok, you scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. He's not too tired after all. He'll give you a massage.
Your little one is so much like their father, wanting all the attention and love in the world, but getting the priority treatment. Little baby Ashengrotto is Octavinelle's favorite thing ever. Everyone just wants to love on them and see their cuteness.
Azul was going to charge people to see them until you put your foot down and said no.
Azul knows how precious his child is. Secretly, he does want another. Two, just for a healthy statistical number's sake. But he won't tell you that. He's trying to come to terms with the shift in attention with one tiny octomer right now, maybe waiting a couple of years would be more optimal. He will never admit that he's jealous of your child, but claims that he's 'working through his issues when you bring it up.
But Azul will always prioritize his baby as well, even if unintentionally. In the end, the wellbeing of his family comes first and foremost.
And maybe showing off mini-mer to the Mostro lounge staff.
#malleus draconia x reader#rook hunt x reader#floyd leech x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#malleus x reader#malleus x yuu#rook x reader#rook x yuu#sebek x reader#lilia x reader#azul x reader#twst azul#twst fanfic#x reader#character imagines#x character#fanfic#fanfictions#fanfiction#disney twst#twisted wonderland headcannon#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney x reader#disney#diasomnia#pomefiore
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Hey love your works they are absolutely fantastic ❤️
This is an odd request but would you mind doing a Adam x Fem! Reader that is in the situation like Morty and Mr. Jellybean was? It is 100% a-okay if you don’t do this especially if it’s uncomfortable but I just wanted to know Adams reaction. Ignore if you are uncomfortable and/or just don’t want to do this ask!
Love your works!! 🥰🥰
A/N: Aww, thank you for the kind words :] I only have two works in total, lol. And, uh, I haven’t watched Rick and Morty, but I did search for some scenes on YouTube. Based on what I saw, do you mean to say how Adam would react if the reader was sexually harassed? Tell me if I’m wrong because holy hell did watching the scenes make me uncomfortable. And someone commented that it’s a really accurate depiction of what happens. Disturbing.
Words: 1,034 (not including the bullet points)
Warnings: Sexual harassment implied, Violence (because of Adam)
———
How Adam would react if Fem!Reader was sexually harassed…
In the middle of writing this, I just remembered that they live in Heaven. So I don’t know how or why a molester would end up in Heaven. Even if there was one, they likely got booted off immediately, so just imagine a sinner somehow managed to sneak into Heaven.
• Adam’s reaction would completely change depending on who you are to him (if you two just met for a date or are casual bang buddies)
• so I’ll just give you the best one for comfort (at least the best Adam could give) and make you two be in a close relationship (not GF and BF though. But you two go on not-so-platonic dates sometimes)
• I also think it’s good to mention that I try to keep Adam’s character as accurate as possible
• it might make him seem insensitive, so I suggest going to the last section if you’re here for comfort (the last section has a blue ‘•••’)
———
Adam recommended a place that had been recently open for a while. He actually burst through your front door to go there the day it was open.
Unfortunately for him, you were busy and will be for the next few weeks as well. Something about work that he didn’t bother to listen to because it was, well, about boring shit.
But now, you managed to get the whole week off, so Adam has you all for himself. And his first action of business was to get you to chillax. What better way to do that than to hang out with him?
He was so fucking hyped. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you try out the food there!
You two were going to have so much fun!
•••
“We need to go,” was what you suddenly decided after you came back from the bathroom, voice emotionless and firm.
Adam stared at you as if you grew horns and a tail. “Why? The fuck happened?”
Your face faltered at his question. “We need to go. Please.”
“Uh, it hasn’t even been an hour. Now get over here and fucking eat.” You only did so after a moment he munched on his burger, but not in the way he expected. You hid near his seat, gripping on the legs as you made yourself as small as possible. “The fuck are you doing?” He paused before grinning suggestively. “Learn some decency, (Name), jeez. If you wanted to…suck…”
Adam trailed off as he watched someone come out of the women’s bathroom, badly beaten and bruised. He…it didn’t have a halo on its head, and its attempt to cover up its slender and angled horns was fucking stupid.
His playful expression dropped and it shifted to anger when he saw it looking around, around for you.
You suddenly felt a strong gust of wind as the plates and glasses clattered on the table you were hiding behind. You peeked from your spot to witness Adam ruthlessly and relentlessly punch the sinner’s face, a hand slowly going over your mouth at the display of violence. You didn’t know he could be so brutal. He was saying things that didn’t reach your ears, but you knew they weren’t pleasant.
You only felt yourself move after you saw Adam lift his arms in the air, hands accompanied by holy light. “Wait! Adam, Adam, stop!”
“What!” He turned around to face you momentarily as he shrugged your hand off of his shoulder. “Let me at ʼim—!”
“Adam, you’re causing a scene,” you whispered, glancing around at the growing audience.
Adam was offended. “I’m helping!” He flapped his wings to stand up, his anger now directed at you. “You’re just going to let a Sinner do you like that? Huh!”
“I just want to go home.”
He stared at your face for a moment. “Whatever.” He scowled at the Sinner one last time before he began making his way outside. You quietly followed after him. “This place is lame, anyway.”
The whole walk, you kept your head down as Adam gave the finger and a nasty look to anyone who ignorantly tried to approach you to cheer you up.
•••
You didn’t know when you got home; you didn’t even know Adam stayed with you until he spoke up.
“Uh…do you need, like, shit, I dunno…something?” You heard the ruffling of his wings and the shuffling of his clothing. “I could order delivery. There’s this place I’ve been…” You further curled yourself into a ball on your bed. You didn’t remember when you got there. “Actually, maybe you should pick where this time, huh? How’s that sound?”
When you didn’t respond, Adam lowered his arms, his smile fading into a frown.
He debated whether or not to leave you here before you scooted to the farthest side of the bed, turning yourself over to face him but avoiding eye contact as you patted the spot you were just in.
Adam took one glance behind him before he slipped into bed beside you, hands on his tummy as he stared at your ceiling.
The silence was uncomfortable for Adam. He desperately wanted to fill it with some chatter. Without it, it felt as though there was no one with him in the room.
As if you read his mind, your hands hugged his arm, and it numbed his unease, if only for a moment. He extended the time by placing a hand on yours, caressing them with his thumb.
“I don’t want to see this,” you suddenly spoke after a minute.
“Huh?” He looked down at you, still not making eye contact with him.
“Take your mask off.”
He scoffed and turned down your request, “You’re not even looking at me.”
“Take it off,” you repeated more firmly.
“Why?”
“Then I’ll take it off.” You reached out to grab his horns, pulling them upwards. When it didn’t comply, you kneeled on the bed and pulled harder. “How do you take it off?”
“Why do you wanna see me so badly? Just go to sleep already.”
“Not until you take that off.”
“I’ll stay with you until you wake up,” he attempted to bargain.
“Adam.” You gave up on removing his mask yourself. “Take it off.”
He hesitated before sighing heavily, easily tugging it off of his head and tossing it on the nightstand.
With his real face revealed, you were able to look at him. His golden eyes brought you solace, and his human-like features gave you relief.
“There. Better?” he asked bitterly as he averted his eyes from yours. “Now go to sleep.” After that, Adam tried to face his back toward you, but you leaned over and held his face and shoulder, pulling him back. “What is it now—”
“You said you’ll stay with me until I wake up.”
“I will,” he said as if you were doubting him, but he knew you weren’t.
Satisfied with his promise, you stared into the soft glow of his eyes as yours started to grow heavy.
In the last moments of your consciousness, you felt yourself get pulled closer to something soft, and you heard the sound of ruffling as warmth enveloped you.
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Sitting in their lap (part 1)
Exactly what it says on the tin, how various Genshin characters would react to a reader who just decides to sit on their lap randomly!
Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), described/implied to be physically smaller than most of the characters (simply because I am and that's how I project, but if you'd like an alternate version, send me an ask and I'll whip it up!), pre-established platonic relationships (though this may border into romantic if you consider physical affection to be that way, so be warned).
Characters: Albedo, Al Haitham, Ayato, Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe.
Albedo just sort of... lets it happen. He's got no qualms about you making yourself comfortable in his lap - unless you start to get in the way, in which case he might just politely try and redirect you elsewhere. He isn't particularly fidgety or squirmy, and he finds that the pressure of your weight in his lap actually helps him concentrate a little better, and sometimes he'll let you stay, even long after he's finished up whatever he might be working on. Be warned, though, he may rope you into holding art or writing supplies for him! He doesn't care if others see, he's never really been one to care all that much about what others think or say. If it's benefiting you both, there's no real reason to stop it.
Al Haitham gets pretty irritated the first time you plonk down in his lap like you have every right to sit there. He's almost downright rude about it, making snide little remarks and grumbling to himself about how you're in the way - you may find that he just outright boots you off if you're somewhere where others might see you (especially Kaveh). As long as you stand your ground, though, he'll eventually settle for it, and he may deny it but sometimes he sits a little further out from his desk, just so you have space to slip into his lap and snuggle up to him if you so desire. If you ask him about the sudden change of heart, he'll quote something about how pressure can help the parasympathetic nervous system kick in, and how humans are a social species and how he's read that physical closeness every once in a while is good for physical and mental health. Damn know-it-all.
Ayato openly adores it. He has a lot of paperwork to do on a day-to-day basis, and any excuse to have some silent company is good enough for him. He can be absently fidgety, twirling your hair around his fingers or rubbing a loose part of your clothing gently - he hardly even seems to notice that he's doing it at all. He's ambidextrous, so you have a lot of freedom in how you decide to sit, he's happy to work around you, so long as you aren't too loud or distracting. You may even find that every once in a while when he knows he'll be swamped with paperwork, he might call you into his office and subtly try to goad you into sitting with him (while making it seem as if it was your own idea all along, cheeky thing he is). The pressure and physical closeness of someone else helps him concentrate on the tedious, repetitive papers he works on.
Arlecchino can be... finicky. It largely depends on her mood and what sort of day she's had whether or not she'll allow you to sit on her lap. She's pretty touchy on the days she allows you to sit in her lap, constantly adjusting your position and tugging you closer to herself - if you didn't know any better, you'd say she was actually enjoying this, but she vehemently denies it, citing the fact that she figured you were in need of comfort and she was just trying to provide it, or that she just hadn't switched out of 'working with the children at the orphanage' mode. She may scold you if you wriggle around too much, or boot you off with very little rhyme or reason, so it's a bit of a gamble if you decide to try and settle in with her for the long run.
Capitano silently takes it. No protests, no comment, nothing, he just leans back in his chair and adjusts his position so it's as comfortable for you as it could possibly be (which is surprisingly nice, considering all the armour he wears). He won't complain, even if you won't stop wriggling around or chattering or playing with his hair or the chains that hang off of his plate mail. He quickly gets very good at reading your intent, and eventually he seems to realise what you want the moment you step in the room, and he'll just silently push his chair back and give his thigh a pat like an open invitation. He may occasionally use you as a chin-rest, or wrap his big arms gently around you if you seem to be getting restless, but otherwise he's silent and hands-off.
Childe is a little all over the place. He loves the idea of you sitting in his lap, he loves physical affection, but in practice, he can't stay still for more than a few minutes without his senses going haywire, and it won't be long until he's bothering you, asking you a million questions or fidgeting with your clothes or accessories in a manner that's downright disconcerting. He never gets any paperwork or anything done when anyone else is in the room, let alone so close to him, but he loves it anyways. He'll chatter away excitedly about anything and everything that comes to mind as he snuggles up to you and smiles, glad that you came to him, of all people, in your quest for affection.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin self insert#my writing#genshin headcanons#genshin fluff#platonic genshin x reader#albedo#albedo x reader#genshin albedo#arlecchino#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#ayato#genshin ayato#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato#capitano#genshin capitano#capitano x reader#childe#childe x reader#ajax#ajax x reader#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#sitting in lap series
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in the trunk
pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader
summary: you do it in the trunk with your lieutenant, Ghost
warnings: 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i'll find out. consists of kissing, sex (m&f), name calling, slight breeding kink, cumming inside, cursing. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
a/n: another one. yes. took me a lot of time. please comment and reblog. It really encourages me to write more smut for yall. Please! I’m desperate ;( also inspired by another character ai response. This time it was a character called “Ghost” by @Faunnaa. Please go and support them too. (also please dm me, im bored)
You had been a part of the Task Force 141 for about 2 years now. You had developed a pretty close bond with your comrades. But, you always had your eye on one specific person, Ghost. To an outsider, he might seem like a ruthless, heartless, unemotional person but, you understood and related to him. You felt his pain when no one else did.
You worked with Ghost but, you didn’t have a close relationship to him like Soap did. You always dreamt to be with him though it seemed like those dreams would stay dreams forever.
Until, Task Force 141 was sent on a mission hours away, the military trucks loaded with soldiers. The mission was smooth, until one of your men made the wrong move and jeopardized the whole operation, forcing you to flee almost immediately.
Everyone was running to the trucks and you just so happened to be one of the last along with Ghost. No actual seats were left, so you had to resort to the trunk. “Bloody hell..” He cursed, Before jumping in and pulling you onto his lap to reserve space.
You were shocked. You hadn’t excepted this. You couldn’t believe what Ghost just did. You had no say. But you knew better than arguing or going against him so, you stayed quiet while you sat in his lap.
Soon, you started feeling congested. To get more comfort, you started changing your position. “fucking hell..” Ghost groaned under his breath. He held onto your hips and forced you to stay still on his lap with your head on his chest.
Ghost didn’t say a word. He was pissed off and annoyed at the whole situation of the mission being cancelled. He didn’t like being in a position of weakness. But he also couldn’t deny the fact you were on his lap. He knew you hadn’t had the best day either so he kept quiet. You felt his chest move slowly, as he breathed.
But, the day wasn’t so good for you either. Your closet friend, Sam and more had gotten injured and killed during the failed mission. You were heartbroken. But, seemingly, Ghost’s warmth and hold seemed to comfort you. You needed more now.
“ghost? could you please hold me?” You sniffled, hoping he would accept. You knew that your lieutenant would make fun of you. You waited for your embarrassment to come.
Ghost wasn’t one for displays of affection at all. But he saw you were sad. He wasn’t that much of a dick to blow you off this time. You felt him move his body slightly to face you whilst holding you. He put a hand on the bottom of your chin and lifted you up. Your eyes met, the moonlight pouring in from the cracks of the trunk illuminated him.
You looked up at him with your glossy teary eyes into his cold emotionless ones. “Come on, get it together.” He said bluntly, in his trademark gravelly accent. “A soldier doesn’t fall apart just because of a cancelled mission.” He had the same stone face he always wore. But there was a subtle softness behind his cold demeanor, he cared.
You could feel his cold heart’s walls slowly crumbling. So you decided to take advantage of it. “I feel so scared..” you whispered under your breath. You couldn’t control your emotions anymore.
“Don’t worry, I’m here..” He mumbled, sounding slightly warmer than usual. He pulled your head onto his chest, where he continued to caress your cheek.
His touch seemed to send waves of goosebumps to your skin. You could feel your heart racing. “I don’t want to be alone today..” you softly said, hiding your face in his chest.
Ghost’s gaze shifted downwards, the sound of your breath was soothing. He couldn’t deny how pretty you looked in this position. In the back of his mind he knew that this was wrong, as a soldier he shouldn’t be getting distracted by something like this. But he also couldn’t help but feel the heat of your skin against his own.
“Shh, you’re not alone now..” He muttered, pulling himself closer in the cramped space. You felt his arm wrap around your lower back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was tender, which was a side to him you hadn’t seen before. In all honesty, the whole situation was sweet. A comforting presence in a place where you felt vulnerable, all the whilst you were held by someone so attractive.
“No one else can see us right?” You whispered carefully. You knew that if anyone saw you both, in this position, it would destroy both of your careers.
“Nope.. unless somebody can open this damn trunk..” He sighed. “Even then, what are they gonna do? Tell on us to our Lieutenant?” He chuckled with a slight smirk. This was his ‘flirty’ side, he was testing the waters.
For the first time after a while, you smiled. “you ain’t wrong there.” You laughed softly as you said that, which made Ghost smile too. Gosh, his smile sent your fucking heart dead. You just couldn’t believe that he smiled.
“I feel like I should kiss you..” That was a little too forward. He realised that the moment the words slipped out of his lips. You felt the heat rise and your heart racing, but for some reason you actually wanted him to do it. A tiny smile played on your lips.
You had never imagined that your dreams would become a reality. You knew you had achieved what you desired. You softly nodded your head, unable to form a response cause how much you were blushing.
“That’s all the yes I need..” He softly said before leaning towards you and pressing his lips on yours. It was everything you could have imagined and more. The feeling of his strong hands, his body against yours, and his kiss sent you into a trance. His scent was intoxicating, along with the feeling of his rough tongue against yours. His hand ran through your hair, as he held you close. This was your dream come into reality.
You both were meant for each other. You held onto his armour as the kiss became more heated. His kiss made your already desperate pussy more wet. You moaned softly.
You broke the kiss and glanced at him, your gaze locked with his. You felt as if you were still in a trance, he had swept you off your feet. “You want me now..?” He whispered, a smirk played on his lips. You were speechless. This was like a movie scene, in a good way. A good soldier, a sexy, charismatic man, and a mission gone bad. Couldn’t get better really.
“Yes.” You whispered with such surety. You were never ever going back to being away from Ghost ever again.
“This is a bad idea..” He mumbled, but he also knew it was too late now. He pulled you in for another kiss. This time it was much more intense and you could practically see the sparks between you.
He picked you up, and shifted you around in the trunk in order to find a more comfortable position. You didn’t even care how tight it was by this point. He sat you on his lap, and moved himself so he had his back against one wall, and his legs against the other. He then pulled you close again, and kept kissing you.
He smirked and pulled you closer in his arms. The tension had built up throughout the day, but now those feelings had resurfaced once more. His hand gently brushed your cheek, and ran through your hair. He was a little rough, but it was what you liked.
You could feel his bulge against your thighs. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. “going to let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours solider?” He whispered smirking.
“yes sir..” you responded blushing. Ghost pulled away from the kiss briefly. “Are you sure? We’re in a.. trunk.” He mumbled, not even sure himself what he was saying. You just nodded your head unable to form words.
“Such a good girl for me”, He smirked as he unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard throbbing cock making it hit his abdomen.
You in amazement, put your hand on it and started stroking it as his precum got over your hands. You could feel how hard it is and how it twitched in your hands. You realised he needed you as much as you needed him.
“take it off.” He ordered. You know exactly what he meant. You pulled down your tight leggings revealing your lacy black lingerie underneath.
“fuck..” he muttered under his breath. He pressed his fingers over your wet panties. “so wet for me love..”, he softly pushed aside your panties so he could have access to your needy cunt.
“Alright..” His hand traveled down your body and caressed your thigh. He kissed your neck and then gently nibbled your earlobe. He felt your breathing speed up, and took it as a sign that you were enjoying what he was doing. He continued to kiss your neck gently, nibbling softly with his lips, and then your chin. A soft moan left your lips, and he smirked.
He held onto your hips tightly that you were sure that it would leave bruises. He moved you so that you were right on top his cock.
He slowly pulled you down on his hard cock. You moaned softly feeling his cock stretching you out so blissfully. You could feel how thick his girth was.
He kept pulling you down in his cock until he was all in while he kept muttering curse words cause how tight and wet your pussy wet for him.
He started kissing you passionately and aggressively as he started thrusting into you but ensuring that his cock went fully inside each time making you moan.
“so fucking tight for me..” He groaned into your ears as his thrusts seemed to get more aggressive and faster. But, your moans seemed to get louder so he pressed his hand tightly against your mouth. “shh..” he whispered in your ears as his cock went so deep and hard into you.
You were going dumb cause how good it felt. His cock was hitting the right spots each time. He spanked your ass couple of time before he started playing with your clit too now.
You were a mess. Your mind was clouded with thoughts about him only. He kept muttering and whispering sweet nothing in your ears, while he kept his hand pressed against your mouth.
But, suddenly you felt his slams into your hips become harder, you knew he was about to cum. “gonna let me cum in your wet fertile cunt for me? yeah love?”, you nodded your head unable to form words.
“cum for me love, cum.” You immediately felt yourself cum as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You could felt the hot thick spurts of his cum fill your womb. He kept thrusting in you softly as you both rode out your high.
He laughed softly and smiled. So did you. His eyes had a hint of lust still present in them. Round 2 was just about to begin.
The rest of the ride was filled with soft laughter and heavy breathing. After it was done, Ghost looked at you affectionately. “Well.. that was something.” He chuckled.
He slowly pulled out of you and you could see him cum leaking out your pussy. Ghost watched it with fascination as he softly pressed his fingers on your leaking hole and whispered in your ears, “can’t let a drop go to waste..”
You smiled softly and whispered, “I can’t believe we fucked in a trunk.”
“And nobody will ever find out. We really have to keep this a secret. We’re in the same unit, that would be bad..” He whispered, he wanted to be with you. The mission meant nothing now, in his mind he had already decided he wanted you. In his head, he knew the chances were small, but he was going to make his move now, and see how you reacted.
“I know..” you whispered. “You don’t look upset about it..” He smirked, the moonlight still pouring in to illuminate his gorgeous face. He tilted his head up slightly, studying you with a smirk. He could see your cheeks were red, and your hair was slightly disheveled. Even if you looked like a mess, you looked adorable to him.
“What can I do, I can’t seem to stay away from you..” you smiled blushing. This was the answer he had been waiting for. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Really?” He chuckled nervously. The answer was obvious but he wanted to hear you actually say it. You were a good girl and he was a bad boy, and he knew that. He felt guilty by doing this to you but it was too late, he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted.
Before you could respond, the truck came to a halt and you heard the engine turn off. Then the sound of multiple boots hitting the floorboard was heard. “Everyone out! We’re back at base..” one of your fellow soldiers yelled. You and Ghost both looked at each other awkwardly. You had spent the past few hours making love (more like fucking like rabbits), now you were being greeted with the outside world again.
The truck had reached its destination, base camp. You felt sad. Reality hit you like a literal truck. “well this was fun..” you whispered trying for sound not sad, you opened the trunk.
“Mhmm.” Was all he was able to reply with. He was deep in thought. His heart was saying to ask you out, but his mind knew it wasn’t the right time. “Right.. Uhm I should go and debrief with the others. I’ll see you around okay.” He got up and took a step outside the truck.
“okay.” You muttered as you admired him. You didn’t know when you would get the chance tone this close to him again so you kept looking at him, memorising his face.
You softly got out of the trunk and stood on the ground. You felt so sore and it was tough for you to walk. You could feel his cum still inside of you.
You heard the click of the truck trunk closing and then you were alone. Slowly, you dusted off your uniform. You wanted to be angry with him, but deep down you secretly enjoyed the afternoon. You were just starting to get over him when you spotted him. Ghost was walking over to his tent, he noticed you looking at him. He shot you a wink, and then disappeared. You sighed and made your way back to your tent.
#simon ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon ghost smut#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#ghost smut#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x reader#ghostsoap#ghost mw2
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— TWST CHARACTERS PLAYING ROBLOX : twisted wonderland
[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters play roblox and some of them fail miserably
[characters] heartslabyul, octavinelle, and scarabia
[extra] play roblox, is very entertaining, especially apeirophobia, 10/10 would reccomend. adeuce is a package deal you can't separate them. i may or may not have gotten carried away writing these
★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS — word bomb
He didn't even want to try it at first. That's a game for kids, right? He's occupied with his studies. Then you introduced him to Word Bomb, a game where he could show off the fact that he read an entire encyclopedia when he was a kid. He destroys people in the game; like, ok, you're supposed to write a word with the letters they give you, but how did Riddle come up with the word "uvulopalatopharyngoplasty"?
Now he plays in his free time, but he does it like his family's honor is at risk. He only lost once since he started playing, and he took it personally.
★﹕TREY CLOVER — bloxy bingo
One of the two who decided to pick a chill game. Trey is just trying to take a break; why are people insulting him in seven different languages because he won once? This game feels like he is in a retirement home playing with old people, except the old people are beefing with each other and buying like six different sheets to fill and have more chances to win. A kid even wrote him a whole paragraph in a language he couldn't even read; the only thing he knew was that they insulted his entire bloodline. At the end Trey got frustrated, but not to the point of fighting kids on Roblox.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND — 3008
Cater is not as nice as Trey; he actually does fight kids on Roblox. No, 'Progamerkiller1234', you cannot stay at his fort; it took him three days in the game to make it aesthetically pleasing; no, he doesn't care that the employees are chasing you and that you're about to die; that sounds like a you problem. People have tried to steal his place from him before, and he won't take the risk again. At this point, Cater doesn't even care about the SCP aspect of the game; he's just there to do a whole mansion with the furniture and to show off his pretty avatar. Now, if you ask him to let you stay at his place, he will let you, since you aren't a random person trying to rob him. But please help with collecting food while he's building.
★﹕ACE AND DEUCE — apeirophobia
It started with Ace saying something along the lines of "let's play this game just to laugh at how dumb it is", and somehow progressed into Deuce screaming because a Smiler scared him, Ace screaming because Deuce startled him, and you having to carry them through the game. The backrooms suddenly aren't funny anymore, but Ace doesn't want to quit because he "can't lose to a kid's game". So now the three of you keep replaying and replaying the game, dying in the most stupid ways possible. A Doppelganger killed you, the Titan Smiler caught Deuce because he got stuck, and a Skin Stealer kept killing Ace. You even had to spend 2 hours replaying the funrooms level, and when you thought the horrors were over, you lost the next level.
Please free Deuce from this suffering. It's 4 am and some random entity is chasing him, his throat will be sore tomorrow from how much he screamed. And never mention ever again that Ace screamed because he got startled when Trey knocked on his door.
★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO — work at a pizza place
The second Azul started playing, he overthrew the manager and took their position. There's a problem though: nobody works in this game; Azul has to do everything, and I mean everything. He's the cashier, the chef, the delivery guy, and the supplier; he's running around doing all the work. If he could name himself the employee of the month he would, but he's the manager, so the game doesn't allow him. This game got him stressed, and they didn't even pay him well.
Did that teach him to pay his Mostro Lounge employees better? No, the only thing he learned is that he shouldn't play Roblox again because, clearly, nobody there takes having a business seriously.
★﹕JADE LEECH — murder mistery 2
If you don't know what the game is about, it's a game where you're assigned a role every round: citizen, murderer, or sheriff; guess which one is his favorite role. Jade is having a blast; he acts like a pro in the game, and he always wins whenever he is the murderer. The worst thing is that nobody suspects he's good at playing because he has the basic Roblox skin; he refuses to change it because it's useful when playing. He is passively aggressive in the chat whenever someone provokes him, either that or he's just making fun of some random kid who got angry at him.
★﹕FLOYD LEECH — ragdoll engine
The only thing you do in that game is make your character suffer; Floyd likes that very much. The first thing he did was throw himself down the stairs, and then he just couldn't stop. Throwing himself off the highest stairs he could find, down a building, launching himself from a cannon—he just finds it extremely funny to see his character suffer. But his favorite thing is pushing other players. He's a menace; you can be doing your own thing, then he randomly approaches you and starts pushing you around, and he won't leave you alone. I mean, at least he isn't pushing people down the stairs in real life.
★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM — bee swarm simulator
The other one who chose a chill game. It's repetitive, yes, but Kalim is having the time of his life. You caught his interest the second you mentioned the cute bees; they all had cute faces and everything. He got emotionally attached to his bees, so now he plays every time he can. You know those types of players that you see and they make you think they have been playing for years? That's Kalim, except he has only been playing for a month; he has already spent a ridiculous amount of money on the game and on his avatar. He will show you his bees as if they were his kids.
★﹕JAMIL VIPER — natural disaster survival
Stressed, really stressed. Tell him why his character fell off a building because of a tsunami, or why he blew up, or why a meteorite fell on him. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS LIMB? DID IT FLY AWAY WITH THE TORNADO?? There's so much going on, he's confused and can barely keep up. He has to admit that it's funny when your character dies for some random reason though, you're receiving the same treatment the game gave him.
"WHERE DID MY HAIR GO? WHY AM I BALD??" Jami said a few seconds before a tornado sent him flying.
#twisted wonderland#twst#riddle rosehearts x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle x reader#trey x reader#cater x reader#ace x reader#deuce x reader#azul x reader#jade x reader#floyd x reader#kalim x reader#jamil x reader
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Ok, I’m a little confused on how to word this request so bear with me.
Would you be willing to write a short fic about Astarion and The Main Character, sharing a tent at camp because relationship, and the main character giving Astarion a massage because he got hurt in battle, but Astarion starts moaning too loud on purpose, and making the other people at the camp think they are having sex?
I realize how weird and specific this is, but I love the idea of Astarion being an absolute Ham, and making the others uncomfortable XD
(Bonus points if the Main Character plays along)
LOL. Yes, I am willing. CW: Actually not many? Allusions to sex I guess? Maye spoilers to be safe? Brief mention of sadboy back story? This is honestly pretty tame.
~
Astarion wasn't against adventuring. If anything he was a fan, especially when comparing it to his old life. But he was only a fan when it was him doing the bloodshed, not when he was the one being knocked around into walls by massive ogres.
It hadn't been the worst pain he'd ever felt, far from it. But it had been fairly intense. Intense enough for it to take multiple tries for him to get back on his feet. And to have you fawning over him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked as the two of you entered the tent hours later, still hovering behind him, "Is there anything I can do?"
"I'm fine darling," Astarion sighed as he plopped down onto his bedroll, exhausted beyond belief, "Nothing that a good night's sleep can't fix."
The healing from Shadowheart had done wonders, even if his muscles were still screaming at him. He was sore yes, but it really was nothing dire. But that wouldn't stop you from fretting, a fact that Astarion was a fan of.
It was no secret that he liked it when you agonized over his well-being. At first he had been a bit offended at your constant worry, taking it as a lack of belief that he could take care of himself. But then he realized you just... cared. About him of all people. Deeply and intimately, in a way that Astarion had never known, but one he could certainly get used to.
"Want me to have a look?" You asked as you sat next to him, your hands already helping to do the work of taking his armor off, "Maybe a massage?"
"That would be perfect," Astarion sighed, more than happy to let you pamper him. He had been hoping that you would ask that. You did have talented hands, "Thank you darling."
After he was divested of his armor you had him lay on his stomach, his back bare as you straddled his legs. Then you got to work, kneading his sore flesh like a pro. Astarion could feel the tension seeping out of his muscles. You really were so good at this, just one more perk of accidently falling in love with you.
He was moaning before he even knew the sounds were out of his mouth. But he didn't give it much thought, not when he knew you didn't mind. If anything you liked hearing him feel so content, even if he could get a little loud.
"Tch."
Astarion blinked his eyes open at the sound. Was... was that a scoff he heard? Astarion strained his ears, listening out of curiosity as you worked wonders on his back. That was one benefit of being a spawn and elf hybrid, he had vastly superior hearing abilities.
"It's happening again," That was definitely Lae'Zel's voice, the gravely cadence instantly recognizable.
"Oh come on, it's not that bad!" He heard Halsin say quietly, only to be met by collective groaning, "Whiners, the lot of you. I would have expected better from you Karlach."
"All I'm saying is that they could pitch their tent a bit farther away, that's all!" She laughed back at him, "Can't a girl be a little jealous?"
"Or a little annoyed," Shadowheart grumbled.
"Or a lot," Gale agreed, grumbling in that very specific way that made Astarion want to slap the frown off of his face.
Astarion rolled his eyes, finding himself to be a bit annoyed as well. While it was true that the two of you could get... excited, you weren't that bad. And Astarion had made it a point to sneak you far away from camp when he really wanted to have his way with you. What more could they ask for? It just felt like envy at this point, an envy that Astarion was petty enough to resent.
"All I'm saying is if I lose one more wink of sleep because of those two, they're getting a piece of my mind," Gale continued, "I'm sure we all can agree on that."
Oh. Well in that case...
"You're so good at this my sweet," Astarion moaned loudly as you worked over a hard knot in his back, "The best I've ever had."
He could hear more groaning from the peanut gallery, but better yet he could hear the smile in your voice as you quietly answered, "I'm just happy it helps. You're so bruised sweetheart, I'm surprised you're still standing. Your pain tolerance is really something else."
That was unfortunately true, a natural consequence after decades and decades of torture. But at least it served him in his newfound freedom.
"Maybe I just like it when it hurts," Astarion groaned loudly, an obvious lie. Especially to your ears.
It was enough to have your hands pausing on him. You leaned in close, whispering a question in his ear, "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"
"Darling, I'll do anything you want me to do," Astarion murmured, hoping that the ridiculous line would get his point across. And it did, of course it did. No one understood him better than you.
Astarion glanced at you as you leaned back, pleased to see the telling smirk on your face as you got back to work.
"Do you like that baby? Should I go lower?" You asked loudly, biting your lip near the end to keep in a giggle, "Would you like that?"
"Please," Astarion moaned out, only half of the sound faked. You really were just that good at giving massages. And the show you were both putting on was having the desired effect.
"For the love of everything that is holy keep it down!" Gale yelled out into the night, doing nothing more than encouraging Astarion to get even louder, "Perfect darling, right there. Gods, I'm close."
"Mm, flip over. I wanna see your face during," You shot back. Astarion could hear it in your voice, that barely contained laughter. And he wasn't doing much better himself. If anything he was a little surprised the others hadn't caught on yet. Maybe even a little offended. The dirty talk you had together wasn't this bad, a fact that they would know if they had actually ever heard it.
But before Astarion could belt out his big finale, the flap of your tent was being pulled open, Gale's voice yelling into it, "For the love of Mystra would you two shut up- oh my gods. They aren't even naked!"
That was the end of the façade. The two of you burst out laughing, you falling down to Astarion's side as you erupted into a pair of giggling idiots.
Karlach joined Gale at the door to the tent, her voice cracking halfway through on a laugh, "I told you they were hamming it up! Wyll, you owe me ten silver!"
Gale was already turning back, a pout on his lips as he muttered, "You're both lucky it was fake. We were five seconds away from sending Lae'zel in to shut you up."
"The threats aren't going to help my desire to continue fucking with you in the future," Astarion called after him, wiping amused tears from his eyes as they both stepped away. You turned to face him, still giggling up a storm as Astarion wrapped an arm around your wasit.
He kissed your cheek, still grinning ear to ear, "I think it's safe to say that I feel much, much better now."
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#asks#silly#so silly#dramatic sad vampire man deserves to be silly#five left!!!!!!!!
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FBI
Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, half of firehouse 51
Warnings: Brief mentions of a crime idk.
Summary: This wasn't exactly what they were thinking when an fbi agent strolled into their firehouse.
A/N: I had such a nice plan for this little beauty but then I messed up and then I remembered I had homework due tomorrow that I haven't done so please enjoy this ugly piece of writing. Kinda don't want to publish this but I need to feed you lot before I get swamped in holiday homework.
"Hey, I'm looking for a Kelly Severide."
You said, asking the first person you found. It was your first time in the firehouse and this definitely wasn't how you planned it to be but you could make this work.
"Lieutenant Kelly Severide?" The woman rose her brow, her voice coming across as soft as she looked. You couldn't deny she was pretty and taking into account her blonde hair and the word paramedic on her uniform caused your brows to rise ever so slightly.
"Oh! You must be Sylvie Brett." You smiled, holding out your hand for the paramedic to shake which she did with much confusion and slight fear. "Agent Y/N Y/L/N."
"You work for the fbi." She stated, fidgeting with her fingers once your hands were released. It was clear she was shocked and you could understand why; your gun in its holster, your shiny golden badge and the bold yellow letters printed on the back of your government issued jacket.
"Yes I do." You replied with a tight lipped smile, annoyed that your job was the first impression everyone at the firehouse would be getting from you; these men and women were family to Kelly and greeting them for the first time ever in your uniform wasn't what you wanted.
Before Sylvie could fully shake off her shock, someone butted into the conversation, having spotted and recognising you.
"Y/N, you're back." Matt smiled, his arms wide inviting your for a hug which you immediately accepted. The captain was the one person in Kelly's life that knew of your existence since there was no hiding you from his roomate, especially since your stay became more permanent.
The hug was what caught everyone's attention. Sylvie talking to someone was normal but Matt hugging a stranger wasn't, hence all the heads turning and when all their eyes widened, you weren't surprised.
"Feds." Two men whispered in sync upon laying eyes on you, the others stood out of their seats and came around to you in the middle of the common room.
"What do the feds want with us now?" One man asked, crossing his arms with an attitude that you could smell from a mile away. Maybe it was his accent or it could've been his snarky tone which got him a quick reprimand from the captain but you knew his name.
"Christopher Herrmann, right?" You pointed at him, your smile brightening when he did a double take at the name you guessed correct.
"It's probably creepy that I know all your names and I really wished that we could've met under better circumstances but I will explain everything." You said, sheepishly smiling at the very confused group of firefighters.
"Y/N! What are you doing here?" Kelly noticed you from afar, it was hard not to recognise the three yellow letter the second he turned the corner.
Within seconds, Kelly enveloped you into his arms and despite the reputation that you wanted to maintain, you folded and accepted the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist, contently inhaling the comforting scent that always followed your boyfriend.
"Okay I'm sorry but who are you?"
"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You replied automatically, not even thinking about leaving out the agent. Biting the inside of your lip, you internally cursed at yourself.
"She's my girlfriend." Kelly smirked, his arm happily resting across your shoulders where he could keep you close to him. "Whose actually supposed to be in Texas right about now, what happened?"
"Everything's fine. We apprehended our guy earlier than expected and there might've been a gunfight and there's a small possibility I was in the middle but a graze is nothing." You said with ease since it was your job and you loved everything it entailed but to your crowd, you seemed like a lunatic and a hero combined in one.
"You're kidding." Kelly looked down at you in concern, his heart rate picking up at the mere thought of you getting hurt, even if you brushed it off as a papercut.
Before you could explain further that a graze inflicted zero pain, a man you could name purely based off the aura that surrounded him entered the common room.
"Agent, what can we do for you?" The tallest man came forward and asked, his hands shaking yours before they were on his hips. From his stance and the way his voice was so gentle but commandeering made it easy for you to deduce his position in the firehouse; it also helped that Kelly continuously boasted about the men and women of 51.
"I'm sorry for interrupting your day chief." You firstly apologised, sheepishly smiling at the firefighters who were shocked at Kelly's arm still wrapped around your waist. "I need nothing but a few minutes with lieutenant Severide and I'll be out your hair."
"Don't be silly." Kelly shook his head, looking down at you with a slight frown. "Why don't you stay for lunch, you can't just appear out of nowhere and not eat with us."
"I have so much paperwork I left behind. My boss will have my throat if they're not done." You tried fighting Kelly but he looked at you with such big eyes that you wanted to drown yourself in and a slight pout was making itself known and before you knew it, you were caving in.
"Alright, just a few bites and then I have to go."
It was safe to say, some feds were okay.
#one chicago#one chicago imagine#one chicago x reader#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire#kelly severide#kelly severide x reader#kelly severide x y/n#kelly severide fanfiction#kelly severide imagine#one chicago fanfiction#kelly severide fic
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YOOO I SEE U FELLOW UNUS ANUSER🫵🫵 i fucking love ur works keep at it bestie pls feed our delusions😫😫
may i ask for, dan heng, blade and jing yuan with a sweet and kind s/o but the moment theyre (the characters) are talked to in a disrespectful way, s/o is immediately turning into a guard dog with a “i’ll tear out your guts with my hand showed down your throat”? idk i just love feral but also gentle s/o tropes so much😔
Thank you 🫵 my fellow Unus Anuser for the ask and enjoying my writings, despite me thinking half of them could be better but I’m not going to complain if ppl enjoy them regardless.
Dan Heng:
He’s taken aback by your sudden threats of violence towards a random pedestrian for intentionally bumping into him.
He was more use to Caelus rummaging through trash cans before waxing poetry about them and whenever March 7th going off on her own as it was expected of their characters.
You however? His sweetheart, his precious jewel and beloved partner? It was extremely unexpected. Dan Heng had to physically stop you from actually fulfilling your threat by holding you against him before putting a good deal of distance between you and the rude individual.
He’s not against you defending his honour, he just doesn’t want you engaging in fights with random people just because they said something about him that you didn’t like. He didn’t want you to stoop to their level and become like them, no matter how good your reasonings for doing so may be. Dan Heng just wants you to be better than them and not give them the reaction that they needed to fuel their own narratives.
That and Dan Heng knew that you could easily kick their ass but he didn’t felt like dealing with being chased by the authorities for unprovoked acts of violence. However some exceptions can be made to this but Dan Heng would much rather that you kept out of trouble, just for his sake and his sanity as he didn’t want to make breaking you out of jail a reoccurring thing.
Jing Yuan:
His interest is peaked.
Who’d knew that someone as sweet and kind as you had such a vicious side, waiting to come out.
Jing Yuan didn’t care for much what others said about him, but having you come to his defence without hesitation had him smiling with pride. His reputation precedes him wherever he went, so naturally he wasn’t going to be easily intimidated by senseless yapping of others, especially those who had not even the slightest clue of the things he’s put himself through in order to get where he was.
While Jing Yuan appreciates your need to stick up for him, he didn’t think it was necessary for you to waste your time and energy on those who lack the capacity to listen to a voice that wasn’t their own.
‘Always pick your battles wisely my dear,’ he said all the while looking at the person who insulted him dead in the eye with that half asleep expression of his, ‘for most aren’t worth fighting in.’ He finishes before gently pulling you by the waist and walking away.
Blade:
He had an inkling that there was more to you than meets the eye. However he didn’t expect someone who went out of their way to feed stray kittens and puppies, patch up his wounds despite knowing he could heal, would ever spout such detailed threats towards another person.
He didn’t give two shits about what people said about him that he hasn’t heard before, he had long grown immune to ignore the comments from those who didn’t know him nor his past. Yet he couldn’t help but revel in the look of surprise on the persons face the words left your lips, chuckling softly at the countless possible thoughts that must be running through their head in that moment.
It was always the sweetest people that everyone was the least suspicious about, it was near enough impossible to fathom that they were capable of hurting anyone.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what described you best in this moment as Blade watched you with new found interest. He found this side of you rather exciting and wanted nothing more than to help you hone in on this side of you and use it to your advantage; Yet he found another part of himself wanting to be the one inciting violence, as he refuses you to tread the same path he did, he wouldn’t allow it.
After all he was the weapon.
He was the one stained in the blood of others.
He was the one that inflicted pain onto others and himself and it was something he will continue to do until death was finally granted to him in whatever form that may be. Blade will refuse you from ever embracing that side of yourself if it meant sending you on a projectory much like his own.
You were his light in the dark for a reason and while it was reassuring to know that you had what it took to fight back, Blade would much rather be the one to fight instead and to be the one to keep your hands clean of blood and violence overall.
#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade x you#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#Honkai star rail imagines#Honkai star rail imagine#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#Dan heng imagine#Dan heng imagines#hsr dan heng x reader#hsr jing yuan x reader#hsr jing yuan x you#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan imagines#jing yuan imagine#blade imagines#blade imagine#blade x reader#hsr fanfic#hsr fic#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff
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Spit In My Face
— PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
— SUMMARY: Fashion Week is in full swing in New York City and Patrick Bateman doesn't miss the chance to show you the world of luxury and beauty. So, he invites you to attend the fashion show with him. Through the chain of events that unfold there, you will see a new side of Mr. Bateman that you never knew existed.
— CONTAINS: Angsty romance, smut, toxic behavior, gaslighting, cheating, misogyny, hurt/comfort, seduction, swearing, flirting, sensual kisses & touches, jealousy, implications of self harm & panic attacks, (almost) character death, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, rough sex, finger sucking, spanking, biting, manhandling, choking, orgasm control, dry humping, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, Daddy kink, Praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman being an asshole (again).
— WORDS: 21k (oops)
— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face
— A/N: Hey guys! It took me a year to finally finish this and I decided to post all the parts together since most of you probably forgot what happened in the previous ones (I'll delete the old posts). I did some extra editing before posting and I hope you like it and I'm happy to get back to writing and soon I'll be rebooting the Cupcake series as I've already started working on prequels. Love you all!
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST];[SERIES MASTERLIST].
Fashion, grace, money, wealth, these were the words running through your head as you rode in the taxi, and you couldn't believe Patrick had just convinced you to go to the goddamn Dior boutique. Not to mention the upcoming fashion show you were going to together, which was an actual nightmare for you and your nervous system.
“I really can’t understand. Why me?” You asked Bateman, turning in his direction to see him looking through the window, with his headphones on. And of course, he didn’t hear you.
All you could do was give him a shy tap on the shoulder. You heard the loud beats of rock music as he opened one of his ears and turned to face you. "What?"
His slightly annoyed intonation almost discouraged you from repeating your question. "I'm just wondering why you decided to invite me to this fashion show when you have much better options."
You watched him frown, and before you continued, you already knew what Patrick was going to say: "Cupcake, I've told you several times. I want to show you the beauty of being rich. I bet you've never seen so many fabulous people in one place."
Sighing a little sadly, you fixed your coat to distract yourself from the burning anger in your chest. "I've had enough of the rich snobs in our company and…I’m not a fan of all these 'luxurious’ things, you know…”
With a small chuckle, Bateman removed his headphones completely, quickly checking his haircut in the window's reflection.
"Of course you're not. How can you be a fan of things you can't afford?" He stated before trying to hug your shoulders, but when he saw your intense expression, he just gently put his palm on your knee.
"Money is not happiness," you cast a serious look at him, brushing his hand away from your leg. "Can you call yourself a happy man?"
Perplexed, Patrick knitted his eyebrows, as if your question had caught him off guard —you have never seen him so lost before and that was really strange. Fidgeting in his place, Bateman was certainly about to replay something when you heard the raspy taxi driver’s voice:
“We’ve arrived.”
"Thank you!" You responded before quickly getting out of the cab without waiting for Patrick to pay for your ride.
Obviously, you were upset and pissed off because of his endless snobbish dialogues about rich people, money and how much his regular suit cos—tnone of this really interested you, would he ever understand that?
As soon as you were outside, you felt a stiff wind blowing through your hair, ruffling it and making your mischievous locks cover your face. Quickly, you brushed them away and raised your eyes to the beautiful sign that read "Dior" in large letters; so stylish, so plush—just the way he liked it.
"Are you going to stand here forever?" Bateman scolded behind your back, his loud footsteps forcing you to spin around.
"I'm so amazed, I can't even move," you sarcastically sneered, staring at the window of the boutique. "The aura of richness has just overwhelmed me."
"How witty," Bateman almost applauded you, his lips curling into a cheeky grin as he came closer, his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. "Come on, let's go inside." With a light push on your back, he induced you to move forward, his arms never left your little form.
When you finally reached the entrance of the store, Patrick gallantly opened the door in front of you and looked at you from above, his eyes glowing with an unfamiliar tenderness.
"Much obliged..." You stammered as he somehow managed to grab your ass, stroking it and squeezing your buttock a little through your coat. Embarrassed, you turned to face him, but Bateman just smiled in his usual smug way.
"My pleasure." He murmured in your ear before letting you go.
Once inside the boutique, you heard someone greeting Patrick with undisguised excitement:
"Mr. Bateman! It's so nice to see you again! Welcome to Dior, we are so happy to help you."
'Again, huh?' You chuckled to yourself, turning your gaze to a side and wondering about the number of his visits and how many girls had been here before; Bateman’s face changed almost immediately as if he noticed your reaction.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr. Graham,” you could definitely hear some tense notes in his tone. “You look great as always!”
The guy let out a little giggle; he seemed to enjoy the compliments as much as your yuppie boy. “Not as perfect as you!” he pointed his both index fingers at Patrick, and now was his turn to grin from being praised. “How can I help you?”
“Uh, I need a dress for…” he paused before staring at you, his eyes gliding over your completely relaxed expression. “For my good friend, but she doesn’t really know what she likes,” ‘good friend, with whom he slept almost every day. Nice shot, Bateman.' “Don’t cha, baby?” While saying that, Patrick groped your cheek, pinching it a bit.
Mr. Graham, who was supposed to be a local stylist, gave two of you a suspicious glare, and only then did Patrick understand what he was doing, pulling his hand away as if it had been burned.
"Well, if the young lady doesn't mind, we can try something to your taste, Mr. Bateman," the stylist confirmed, examining you like a statue. "What do you think?"
"Great idea," Patrick exclaimed, pulling you into his arms to take off your coat. You almost fell into his embrace, whimpering as he 'accidentally' touched your boobs, squeezing them gently. 'Fuck, why should he be so obnoxious?' "I can't wait to see my Cupcake in one of these beautiful dresses." He whispered before leaving a tiny peck on your neck.
"That's very sweet of you, but..." you murmured, looking into his hazel eyes. "I don't think I'll fit into those dresses."
"Don't worry, honey." Bateman winked at you and gave you a quick slap on your butt to nudge you toward Mr. Graham, whose smile widened the longer he watched the two of you together.
“Please, follow me.”
Trying to distract yourself from all the bad thoughts, you just did what you were told and moved along countless hangers with new dresses. The further you got away from Patrick, the more insecure you became, and that strange feeling made your whole body shiver like from a cold shower.
“So, which color do you want to try on first? Maybe something dark?” the man asked you, sliding his hand across the beautiful fabric of some dress nearby. “Dark blue or dark red…Or even black?”
"I really like the black color, it goes with almost everything."
Mr. Graham chuckled amusedly and handed you a black cocktail dress, which of course was very short. Apparently Patrick didn't like long dresses or skirts, you already knew that, but that didn't mean you were happy about it.
“Mm-mh, and I think this one can fit too,” he gave you another dark blue dress before adding. “I still recommend you to have a look at our new collection, maybe you’ll find something interesting.”
“Maybe you’re right,” you sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time of the day. "Those amazing dresses I saw when we just entered are from a new collection?"
“Yes, Miss.”
"I'll check them out. And… thank you, Mr. Graham." Excited, you smiled again, and then you strolled away, a pile of dresses in your hands.
Once you reached the place you had been before, you heard multiple voices—one of them definitely belonged to Patrick while another one seemed to be unknown to you.
"What are you doing here?" You peeked out from behind the hangers to see a beautiful blonde girl, her face literally glowing with enthusiasm. "I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while." You didn't even have to look to know what she did next as the loud pecking sound echoed in your ears as if you had been hit with something hard.
The blonde left a small kiss on Patrick's cheek before he replied. "Good to see you too, Meredith."
“Are you here alone?”
“Mm-mhhm,” Bateman looked around and when he didn’t spot you, he added almost emotionlessly. “Yeah, you can say that.”
An instant pain burned in your chest, causing your hands to cling to the dress you were holding. Breathing heavily, you were about to send everything to hell and just leave, but for some reason, you decided to listen to their conversation, maybe you would learn something else about yourself being nothing but an empty place.
"So, are you going to the fashion show this weekend?" She asked cautiously, as if testing his line.
"Sure," they looked into each other's eyes for a while. "You know, I never miss things like that."
The way she giggled, forced you to close your ears from cringe, but that unpleasant sound kept bouncing in your head.
"Do you have a date or not?"
"Why do you ask?" Bateman retorted in a stern but concerned tone.
"I just... I thought maybe we could go together?" Flirtatiously, she pulled him closer, pretending to fix his coat.
"I'm sorry, but the answer is no." Frowning, he quickly took her hand away.
Ashamed, she stepped back and stalled. "You could just say you already have someone to go with and…"
Patrick scowled in irritation, cutting her off. "I'd still say 'no' even if I didn't…"
"Miss, did you find something you like?" Mr. Graham's sudden voice made you jerk and drop the super expensive dress with a thud.
It felt like all eyes were on you at that moment, and you didn't really know what to do other than quickly pick up the dress and act naturally. “God, I’m so sorry…I can be so clumsy sometimes!” You apologized, trying to ignore Bateman’s intense gaze.
"Don't worry, Miss… it's not a problem!" The stylist assured you, matching his words with reassuring gestures.
"I'll pay for everything,” Patrick pronounced it so calmly and with absolute confidence, as he moved in your direction. “Have you finished?”
First, you cast a confused glance at him, and then you looked at Meredith, her mad stare of disbelief almost making you laugh. “I think so,” you murmured, watching him getting closer. “I even got some of the new collection.”
“Ahh, is it so?” he teased, standing face to face with you. “Come on, let Daddy see what you’ve got.”
With that said, Patrick leaned over to your lips, and you let him pull you into a deep kiss, which was pretty surprising—your own behavior almost scared you, as you didn’t even care about people watching you making out. Deftly, he grabbed your waist to lift you up, but your audible protest compelled him to stop.
“Pat-Patrick…” you whispered against his mouth. “P-please, don’t forget where we are…”
“I know, I know,” he snickered softly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. “I just missed my Cupcake so much.”
With a dull grin on your face, you pulled away from him to look into his dark brown eyes. "Really?" After you asked that, you glanced at the blonde girl behind his back, who was now talking to a middle-aged woman, probably the assistant.
“Time literally stopped for me when you left.”
'What a beautiful flattery.'
After a while, you changed into the next dress because all the previous options didn't get Bateman's attention, even though you really liked them. You were struggling with a clasp when you heard him whine in anticipation.
“Baby, did you fall asleep in there?”
“Almost ready!” You blurted out before fixing the dress straps on your shoulders.
And then you walked out of the dressing room to the circular runway, and yes, this boutique had a special VIP area with a fucking runway.
"Finally, my favorite style," Patrick flattered, sitting in the leather chair and holding a glass of mineral water with a little lime. "Mm-mm, this dress outlines your tits so perfectly, not gonna lie, I like it."
A bit humiliated, you were constantly fixing the hem of the dress as it was too short for you, especially when Bateman was looking at you so vigilantly, making you feel yourself like a picture in some art gallery.
"Baby, turn around and…" he paused, crossing his long legs and pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop crawling! Square your shoulders and straighten your back!"
You turned around, unable to hide your sadness. "I… I don't feel comfortable in this. It's too short," you glanced at his annoyed face, wondering if you should continue. "I'm almost naked!"
"But that's the point!" Patrick tilted his hand to the side and was silent for quite a while, clearly thinking about something. "You know what, Cupcake?"
“What?”
"I'll be honest, this dress is amazing, but… unfortunately not on you," he scoffed before taking a sip of water. "It's not a problem, honey. Just take it as motivation to be better."
Biting your lip, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't try to hide your pain and resentment, but your voice sounded dejected anyway. “Of course… keep pretending that you didn’t expect this…”
Humming to himself, Bateman squinted his eyes and leaned on his knees. “Expected what?”
“That these slutty dresses wouldn't fit me,” you glared at him, your body was yearning to get rid of this dress as quickly as possible. “Goddamn, I have enough of this…I hope you enjoyed this little performance!”
After saying that, you turned around and went back into the dressing room. Trembling with rage, you didn't even care what would come next as the searing flame of injustice overtook your mind. No way would you allow anyone to treat you like that.
"Shit!" You cursed as you attempted to undo the fucking clasp on your back, but it didn't seem to work.
"If you keep pulling like that, you'll tear it apart for sure," his unexpectedly gruff baritone shot through your back like an arrow. "Let me help you."
"No!" You almost screamed, turning sharply to face him. Your chest rose and fell so abruptly that you thought you would choke on the air.
Sneering, Bateman gently extended a hand as if you were a wild beast he planned to tame. “Cupcake,” he was getting closer, forcing you to walk backwards. “Tell me…what’s wrong?”
"What's wrong?" You kept stepping back until you suddenly bumped into the wall behind you. "Maybe you should ask yourself first?"
"I think you should stop pouting or you will get wrinkles," he tried to be nice to you, but it only made you more upset. "I don't think either one of us wants that to happen, am I right, honey?"
“Stop it, Patrick…”
“Mm-mhh, it’s just Patrick now?” You didn’t even notice that his massive figure was already towering over you, pressing you a little against the wall. “No ‘Daddy’ anymore?”
Possessively, Patrick strived to cup your face, but you flinched away from his touch, coaxing a warning growl to break from his perfectly shaped lips.
“Can you just leave and let me change?”
“Jesus, (y/n)...you’re acting like a stubborn child!”
Panting, you leaned your hands against his firm chest to push him away a bit. "Do you really think I'm in the mood…after all the rude things you said?"
He chuckled, looking at you from above and giving you a feeling of being so small compared to him, you almost stopped breathing. “Rude things?” laughing again, Bateman trapped you between his arms as he put them from both sides of your head. “I always say what I think, there’s nothing special about it…”
"More likely, you always think only of yourself," your voice wavered, and you found it hard to breathe, as if he was sucking all the oxygen out of the air. "Let's just skip this, if you still want me to go with you..."
“No, I don’t need you to do me a favor.” Patrick shushed you with a finger, pressing it against your lips, leaving you trembling like a leaf.
“And I don’t need your help!” You tried to break away, but he kept you in one place.
“Oh, is that so, honey?” he crooned in a sweet tone, rubbing his nose against yours; his seductive aura was almost intoxicating, it was corrupting your mind stronger than anything else in this world. “Honestly, I just wanted to help you undo the clasp but now… now, I want more than that…”
With no delay, Bateman covered your mouth his heated one, wrapping his brawny hands around your quivering frame and spreading your legs with his knee. Suffocated, you didn’t react, feeling his hard bulge brushing against your mound—a muffled moan of sudden pleasure pierced through your bonded lips, sending chills down you spin; your cute reaction didn’t surprise him, but Patrick couldn’t hide his satisfied grin as his hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress.
And only now, you desperately clawed at his shoulders, weakly pushing him back, not understanding that your attempts to fight him were only putting gasoline on a fire, encouraging him to sprawl you against the wall, pinning your hands against your head.
"P-Patrick!" The way you almost screamed his name made you both tremble with ravenous lust as you looked into each other's eyes, not really knowing if you wanted him to let you go or hold you forever.
Growling quietly, Bateman continued to move along your longing body, forcing you to hook your hip around his loin, so you could grind against his hard groin. “Feeling good, darling?”
'No, not good...no!'
“Yes-s! Mmm-mh…Daddy… ahh!” Oh God, that was the end.
"Baby," he murmured in your ear, thrusting his firm thighs into yours and shamelessly groping your bottom. "Daddy doesn't like to see his sweet Cupcake upset."
"Maybe...n-next time Daddy will think more before he talks." You stammered from the beat of your heart.
“Do ya want me to bite this little sharp tongue?” panting, Patrick punctuated his words with rough smacks on your butt, which could be surely heard outside the dressing room. “I’ll teach you how to behave.”
Smoothly, Bateman pulled down the top of your dress, letting your breasts to bounce out from it, and the next second his greedy mouth was already sucking on your taut nipple.
"Mmm…Gosh." You arched your back as the last vestiges of your self-control seemed to disappear along with your ability to resist this man.
Switching between your engorged peaks, Patrick didn’t stop rubbing against your mound not even for a moment, your throbbing pussy was about to explode at any second. Thirsty, he tugged on your tip with a squelch, enjoying each little whine you made, but he still needed more.
“Turn around,” he urged briefly, licking his lips in hunger as he watched you bent over in front of him. “Oh-fuck, I can smell your sweet arousal… mmm,” snuggling into you, Bateman left a wet hickey on the back of your neck before he started to move down, peppering your exposed skin with hot sloppy kisses. “C’mon, Cupcake, spread your legs for me.”
As if hypnotized, you obeyed and before you even noticed, his long fingers were teasing your sensitive clit trough your so-fucking-wet panties. Clinging to the wall, you were about to moan when you sensed his big palm on your chin, his hot breathing was mercilessly burning the delicate skin of your throat while his rock-hard bulge was still pressed against your ass.
“Aa-aww, Daddy….mhm.” You muffled against your own hand before turning around to give him your most innocent look–he read it almost right away.
“So, you need my help?” bastard! – you almost said it out loud, but Bateman was faster as he slid his thumb into your mouth, and you started to suck it like medicine you couldn’t live without. “Ahh-look at ya… Such a little slutty girl, can’t function without Daddy’s finger inside her dirty mouth…”
Twitching under his massive weight, you could only think of his skilful digits playing with your pussy better than you ever wished for, damn you were already so close but it seemed like Partick's endless craving spurred him on to tear you apart completely.
With no words, Bateman knelt behind your back to pull up the hem of your dress, and soon you had to compress your lips so tightly, as loud nasty sounds were about to erupt from your fiery chest when he finally moved your underwear to the side and his plump lips covered your feverish cunt.
“Oh-mmmy God,” tensed like a string, you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to laugh, or all these things together from how his masterful tongue was pushing you over the edge. “Mmm-Patrick-” you suppressed another moan when he bit one of your buttocks before spreading them wide open to push two fingers inside your blushing pussy. “A-aah-Daddy, I’m so close… p-please!”
Patrick only purred something incoherently in response, as he continued to lick your engorged folds and pumping your tight hole with his experienced digits. His persistent ministrations made you totally lose your mind, and now you didn’t understand were you begging him to stop or to NEVER stop.
When your legs shook in his grip, you heard his raspy snarl: “Not yet, Cupcake…Not yet!”
'And he just stopped, holy hell.'
Your miserable sobbing bounced against the walls of the dressing room as the coil in your lower belly was yearning for its release, it was literally itching so hard you were ready to scratch the wall with your nails if it could help you a bit.
“(Y/N), you can’t even imagine how much I want to leave you just like that,” Bateman hissed, and then you heard the unzipping sound which caused your knees to buckle. "But I want to get all your stupid thoughts about acting like a brat… out of your head!"
Abruptly, Patrick put your legs together and the next second you felt his leaking tip between your legs, brushing against your soaked folds and making your squirm from ecstasy.
'This man have no barriers, he can reduce me to pieces so easily, like no one else, and I am sure he likes it.'
A small drops of sweat were running down his forehead as he watched his beefy cock slipping back and forth with a sleek sound; your overstimulated pussy was literally on fire.
“P-please…” You whimpered, bending ever lower to give him a better access to your spasming cunt.
“If you want to cum, you have to move, slut.” Groaning, Bateman stood still with his hands wrapped tightly around your hips. Mesmerised, he watched you grinding on his huge dick as you desperately chased your release. At that moment, your languid, heavy breathing was all that mattered to him.
Shivering erratically, you almost crested your high when Patrick harshly grasped your throat and pressed you against the wall, possessively he began to smack his cock against your clit, each slap he made was taking your breath away.
“Tell me, Cupcake…” he grunted against your neck, brushing his swollen tip along your throbbing nub barely sensible. “Who do you belong to?”
“You…Only y-you...”
Bateman squeezed your neck with blatant dominance and demanded in a low voice, "Uh, not quite convincing…try again."
“Aa-aww! I… I belong to you…Daddy!” You cried out through your pressed palm when he sped up the tempo, slapping your pussy with nasty wet sounds.
With a devilish smirk on his face, Patrick had to hold you still as you cummed so hard, gushing on his dick and fidgeting around the wall. Multiple waves of pleasure were washing over you like a waterfall, leaving you completely exhausted, you didn’t even have any power to moan.
And soon, you became limp in his powerful arms, allowing him peacefully patting your head as he praised you. “You can be a good girl when you really want to,” Bateman kissed your temple, fixing his pants. “But still, you could just let me help you with this fucking dress.”
“You can help me now…” You replied, hungrily catching the air.
Smugly, Patrick eventually undid the clasp on your dress, not missing the moment to leave a red mark on your shoulder blade as he sucked on your soft skin. “Speaking about dresses. Since my favourite one didn’t fit, you can choose whatever you want…I don’t really care.”
You sighed, smiling ironically to yourself. “Great!”
Bateman didn’t stop smirking even for a second, he was so pleased with himself that he didn’t notice your sarcastic intonation, he just ignored it, as usual. “Come out when you are ready, I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
“What for? I can pay for this myself.”
His cheesy titter unpleasantly cut your ear. “I don't want you to starve, babe,” you cast an angry glance at him, but he only stroked your cheek before adding: “You only need to be an obedient girl, and I'll give you as many gifts as you want.”
“But I didn’t ask...”
A sudden ring of his mobile phone got his attention, so he hushed you with a finger before quickly going out from the dressing room, leaving you alone with your inflaming rage.
Snorting tiredly, you mentally screwed him a million times in a row, changed your clothes and tried not to even think about eavesdropping on his conversation with whoever it was. As you left the dressing room, you heard the echo of his voice from nearby.
“Jesus, Evelyn! I’ve told you already, I can’t take the time off work.”
At that moment, you could swear your legs weren't listening as they led you straight to the source of the sound. With your heart beating, you halted near the dressing room when his voice suddenly fell silent, and the next second the curtain was carelessly pulled aside so that your frightened eyes met his furious ones.
'Oops!'
Annoyed, Patrick stared at you with his hands crossed on his chest. It was too late to run now, so you stood still and heard him saying:
"Are you lost?" With a cocky grin, he picked up his briefcase and stepped closer to you.
"No...I mean, yes. Probably," your cheeks burned from the inside as the strong feeling of embarrassment hit you like a truck. "I was just looking for you and..."
"Aha," he crooned before towering over you, grabbing you possessively by the waist and leaning down to whisper in your ear: "Do you know the proverb 'curiosity killed the cat'?"
"I haven't heard it since I was a kid," you confessed, swallowing hard as you watched him taking the dresses from your hands, the mysterious grin never leaving his face. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to eavesdrop."
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Haughtily, Patrick winked at you, and that was really confusing because his unpredictable mood changes were the most difficult puzzle you had ever known.
“You don’t even want to see which dress I chose?”
"Not really, I'll see it tomorrow anyway," his voice sounded more stern now. "Unless you change your mind about going with me.”
He cast a challenging glance at you, but before you had a chance to reply, Bateman walked past you and gestured for you to follow. Slightly disappointed, you went after him and soon you made it to the hall where all this shit started.
"So, did the young lady find something to her taste?" The stylist asked as soon as he saw you coming.
"Yep," Patrick let him pick up the dresses and put them on the big table next to the beautiful leather couch on which Bateman kept looking in disgust and you didn't even know why. "(Y/n), c'mon, point with your finger to which dress you like?"
The way he cooed to you was absolutely stunning. Sometimes it seemed like he could read you like an open book, and that only made you feel insecure.
"I think this one." You replied with a shy smile.
"Nice, very nice!" Mr. Graham exclaimed before calling for an assistant to pack your dress. "That will be 2800 dollars, sir."
Satisfied, Bateman hummed to himself and pulled out his wallet. "Do you take credit cards?"
"Of course!"
All the while, you were pretty shocked by the price for just a piece of fabric. Frowning, you didn’t even realize you were saying it out loud. "2800 dollars, for this?"
Everyone, including Patrick, turned to look at you; the stylist was seriously confused and he just mumbled: "Excuse me?"
"Huh, don't worry," Bateman chuckled and handed him his platinum AmEx credit card. "She just can't believe I finally bought her a dress of your brand. Am I right, dear?"
When Patrick glanced at you, you felt a cold breeze run through your body—he must have been really angry. "Mmm, yes! I have been dreaming about this for so long."
Even though you were not an actress, your words sounded more than natural. Both men smiled at each other and proceeded with the payment procedure.
All the way back to his apartment you both remained almost silent. Patrick continued to listen to the rock track he had paused on before going into the store, looking at you from time to time when you didn't see him, his hand fidgeting with the hem of your new dress that was lying on your knees. Yet, you couldn't believe he'd just bought you a dress that cost more than your monthly rent. You hated to owe someone, but now you felt like you did, and it was killing you from the inside...because you didn't ask him to get you that dress, you didn't ask him for anything, and still he was trying to push you into the world of luxury where you would be a stranger forever.
'Bullshit.'
"(Y/n), what's on your mind?" His sudden question caught you off guard, and you almost bit your tongue. Why did he even ask, when it seemed he could read your mind?
Fidgeting in your seat, you turned away from the window and gazed into his brown eyes, now filled with an unrivaled enigma. "Just thinking about how to survive all the challenges you have set for me."
You heard him laugh softly, and before you could continue, he hugged your shoulders and snuggled into your small frame, the heat his body was radiating melted the cold shell you had been building up since the moment he decided to 'help' you in the dressing room.
“Challenges?” Patrick rejoined, nuzzling against your neck as he pulled your collar down a bit.
“Yes, Patrick,” you were trying to hold yourself as much as you could, not giving him more weaknesses to play around. “You know how much I hate all these fancy things which are made only for rich people.”
Bateman only purred something incoherently against your skin, tickling it a bit. “Cupcake…I think you need to relax.”
“Relax?”
“Yes, baby,” he tugged you closer, his nose was nearly rubbing against yours. 'Goddamn!' “Relax and take it easy.”
"Stop, stop, stop..." you pushed him away a bit, forcing his headphones to slide down his head completely. "You've reminded me almost every day...that I'm not from 'your world', that I'm just a mortal who can't afford to buy fucking clothes that cost a fortune...and now you're telling me to just relax?"
Patrick huffed and rolled his eyes. “(Y/n)...don’t even start this conversation again.”
“You’re such an…”
Despite the fact that the partition in the cab was closed, it seemed as if the taxi driver heard your loud voice, and the next moment he opened it to ask you if everything was all right.
When you said that everything was fine, he started to drive again and you clenched your palms into fists, feeling the embarrassment and anger fighting in your mind.
"You're ashamed of me, aren't you?" You wondered without looking at him.
The way Bateman exhaled was not a good sign. "When you make such scenes—yes, I am."
Sighing, you pressed a hand to your forehead. Damn, he was affecting you so badly and you hated yourself for it, for being so weak next to him, so vulnerable...you were literally losing yourself.
His apartment looked perfect as always, so clean, so posh, but there was something strange this time as you walked across the living room and saw a large bouquet of white roses on his kitchen island.
"Mmm, such beautiful flowers!" You approached them to inhale their scent.
"Yeah," he stated from behind, placing your dress on the back of his white couch. "I bought them for you."
Stunned, you broke away from them as if you were pricked. “For me?”
"I'm not going to repeat it," Patrick blurted out, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass and a bottle of super expensive whiskey. "Besides, I don't think it makes any sense now."
'Excellent.'
Without asking, Bateman set a glass on the bar counter in front of you as you took a seat near it. Still frowning with irritation, he poured some red wine for you, and when you were about to thank him, he just strolled away. The situation was rather unconventional, to say the least, and you didn't really know what to do, maybe just leave?
"Patrick, I think we both need to cool off a bit...right?" you sipped at your wine, waiting for his answer, but he continued to ignore you. "I'm going to finish my drink and probably go home."
"Whatever." Was all he said, standing with his back to your face, clearly thinking about something.
Upset, you stifled a sad gasp and took the glass before getting up. When you reached his white couch to have a look at your dress for distraction, you suddenly heard his challenging voice:
"You want to know who Evilyn is, don't you?"
Paralyzed, you almost choke on your wine. After coughing a little, you turned to see him standing near the coffee table with his hands in his pockets. This was getting serious.
"I don't understand, why do you ask?"
Patrick chuckled loudly and shook his head in disbelief. "Stop acting like a fool, Cupcake. I know you want this, I can even feel it," his face grimaced a bit dangerously while his eyes were getting darker by the second. "You've wanted it since we left the boutique, that's why you started acting like a bitch."
Trembling with burning rage, you squeezed the glass, almost breaking it. "I'm not in the mood for scenes, you know," you countered, not even noticing that you took a few confident steps toward him. "When I leave, you can bring Evelyn, Courtney, Meredith, whoever… and confront them for as long as you want!"
"Or maybe we can all have some fun together, huh?" he drawled the last words, enjoying the sight of your angry expression. "There's plenty of me to go around."
Scowling, you wanted to spit in his face, or slap him, or both. But instead, you just smiled and that was a little unexpected for him. "You're sick, Patrick. And I feel really sorry for you."
After saying that, you turned away from him to pick up the dress – you wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, so you even forgot about the glass in your hand.
"Of the two of us, you are the one who really needs some grief," his voice hurt you like a slow-acting poison, it was excruciating. Before Bateman returned to the kitchen, he added, "Evelyn is my fiancée, and has been all along. What an unpleasant surprise?"
A loud sound of broken glass echoed through the living room as soon as you heard his last words. It was a real miracle that the wine didn't splash onto the luxurious fabric of his white couch, but you didn't really care at that moment, with your heart beating so crazy in your chest. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and stood still, not hearing Patrick's footsteps behind you.
'Damn, that glass must have cost a fortune.'
"Cupcake..."
"I know!" You cut him off, raising your trembling hands in the air. "I'll return the money...just tell me how much it costs?"
'Don't cry. Please, don't cry!' But you did, and when you felt his warm hand wrap around your forearm, you tried to push him away, yelping:
"Give me...give me something to clean the floor!"
"(Y/n), calm down! You're bleeding."
"What?" you gasped, opening your eyes wide before looking down at your feet to see blood running down your ankle as a sharp piece of glass sank into your soft skin. Only then did you realize you were injured, a sharp pain hitting your brain like a lightning strike. “Oh, God…I thought it was w-wine…” You stammered as that was the end point for your nervous system.
With no more waiting, Bateman carefully took you in his arms to lift you up. Sobbing, you let him carry you into the bathroom and sat on the edge of his beautiful black tub. Gently, he removed your shoes and stretched out your bruised leg to assess the damage.
"Is it that bad?" You asked him in a shaky voice, trying not to look down at the wound.
"No, but it would be better if you stopped flinching." He insisted, releasing your leg and going to the sink to get antiseptic, tweezers, bandages and cotton pads.
As Patrick knelt before you, holding a pair of tweezers, time seemed to freeze for you, but then you screamed from the itching pain as he carefully pulled the shard of glass from your ankle.
"Mmmh," you mumbled through your palm when he pressed a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic. "Shit…I am so clumsy and reckless..."
"You are," Bateman murmured as he wrapped a bandage around your leg. Every move he made was very gentle and accurate. "But still, you are mine."
"No, I'm not," you struggled to free yourself from his grip, but his hands held your leg very tightly. "We both know that's not true..."
Shivering, you peered down at him as he remained on his knee beside you. Almost immediately, his hazel eyes locked with yours, mesmerizing as always. "Why is it always so difficult with you?"
“Ask yourself.”
The moment you attempted to get up, you almost fell on the floor, but Patrick caught you in his arms at the last second.
"Patrick, let me go..." you pushed him into his chest to get some distance, but he didn't even move. "I will leave and forget everything that happened between us. Just like you wanted!"
"I never said I wanted to!" he growled, holding you closer so you could almost feel his fast heartbeat. "Why can't you just be a good girl and accept what I give you?"
"Oh, you've already given me enough, believe me!"
Annoyed, Bateman just shook his head before pressing a finger to your lips, silencing you and taking your breath away.
'No, no, no. Not again'
You swallowed hard as you felt his thumb slide up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears.
'Stop.'
"Cupcake."
'His voice, his scent, his brawny body.'
"Look at me," Patrick whispered sweetly, and you felt yourself going limp in his strong arms, so you obeyed and let him kiss your temple. "You're driving me crazy and I hate it...because I'm so fucking obsessed with you!"
One sharp breath and his lips were on yours, forcing your hands to claw at his jacket, but Bateman only pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as his wet tongue played with yours. Panting against his mouth, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his soft hair, making it look so messy, but Patrick didn't care. Slowly, he lifted you up a bit to set you down on the sink opposite his bathtub, peppering your neck with little pecks.
"Daddy."
Just one simple word could turn this man into a savage beast, you knew it, but you couldn't stop yourself as your inner nature yearned for him and it felt like you were meant for each other, two broken souls finally found each other.
"Cupcake." He kissed your lips briefly before moving down to your cleavage and unbuttoning your shirt, his hot breath tickling your bare skin.
Everything about him was so intoxicating that your clouded mind refused to function at all and now you couldn't hear your inner voice begging you to stop.
Quivering, you arched your back a little to give him better access, and immediately you heard him growl against your collarbone as he finally undid your shirt. Patrick didn't even bother to remove your bra - he just pulled it down, revealing your taut nipples; he licked his lips at the sight of them and then his greedy mouth was already devouring one of them.
"A-awwww," you mewled, hugging his shoulders as you literally melted under his touch. "Mmm, please!"
"Please what?" He looked at you, twisting your hard peak between his skilled fingers.
"I..." you hiccupped from the way Bateman spread your legs as he nestled into you with pure possession, groping your hip and licking your neck. "I... don't know... Gosh!"
This was pure madness, what was consuming your mind, with every kiss he made, breaking all your barriers, the more you tried to resist it, the more it hit you back. Panting, you threw your head back and felt your eyes begin to water again as his strong hands caressed your trembling little body. Never in your life had you felt so lost. Never.
"Relax, sweetheart," Patrick mused into your ear as he slid his palm between your legs. And of course you were so shamelessly wet that you could flood his floor. "I got you."
"I can't, a-aah..." You sighed, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Yes, you can," Bateman planted another sloppy kiss on your neck before grabbing your hand to press it against the hard bulge in his pants. "I couldn't stop thinking..." he paused, drinking in your stifled moans as he gave your clit a few slight rubs. "Do you think about me, Cupcake? I know you do..."
"Mm-mhh," your hands roamed desperately down his broad back, fumbling with the smooth fabric of his suit. "And I...ahh-I know you don't think about me..."
A loud whimper fell from your lips as he shoved two fingers into your dripping pussy, almost causing you to bump your head against the mirror behind, but he prevented it by wrapping his hand around your neck.
"You're mistaken," his low groan echoed against the walls of his bathroom, sending shivers down your spine and coaxing your inner muscles to spasm around his fingers as they mercilessly rammed in and out of your throbbing cunt. "Because you know nothing about me," Patrick curled his fingers to stimulate your most sensitive spot, gritting his teeth as his aching cock was about to explode with ravenous desire. "Now be a sweet girl like you always are and..."
"Owwww!" you screamed in sharp pain as he accidentally pushed on your wound. “It hurts!”
"Fuck, I forgot...damn it!" He cursed and removed his hand from your leg.
Seizing the moment of his confusion, you slipped out of his embrace and nearly ran for the door, and thank God it was open, because when you heard his almost furious groan, your heart skipped a beat:
"Come back!"
"No, it can't be like this," you leaned against the door, holding out a hand defensively. "Not after what you said..."
Trembling, you watched him breathe heavily through his red nostrils, his wild gaze seeming to burn you alive as his self-control was about to snap. Scared, you weren't sure what to expect from him next, so you decided to leave this place right now, while it was still not too late.
Quickly, you walked into his living room and grabbed the damn dress, trying not to think about the broken glass and spilled wine. To be fair, you thought Patrick was going to chase you or threaten you with punishment, but none of that happened as he stayed in his bathroom. It was suspicious, but you would think about it later.
As you were about to leave, you walked past the open door to the bathroom and told yourself to just go and not look back. But when you reached the front door, you froze and sobbed - your heart sinking while your mind was waving a red flag.
'Just leave, please!'
Huffing, you turned and walked back to the open door. The scene you saw was not what you expected, it simply broke your heart - Bateman was standing still by the sink, leaning on his hands with his head bowed.
"Patrick."
"You're still here?" He asked without looking at you.
"I'll go with you tomorrow...but I'm not doing it for you," your voice wavered, but you didn't allow yourself to sound weak. "I just wanted to make that clear."
And then you left him alone in his super luxurious apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. No matter how hard you tried to hold back your tears, they kept slipping down your cheeks. Even when you were in the cab on your way home, your soul was still aching because it seemed like the wounds he made couldn't be healed.
When the night came, there were only a few windows with lights on, and Patrick's bedroom window was one of them.
Irritated, Bateman lay on his bed while a blonde girl sucked him off, bobbing her head up and down at a fast tempo. There was no denying that she was trying her best to give him as much pleasure as possible, but he felt nothing, literally no emotions – only the dark void inside his mind.
"(Y/n), you're doing everything wrong...not the way I like it!" Patrick grumbled, pulling on the girl's hair.
"Who?" She asked confusedly, looking up at him. "My name is Meredith, in case you forgot, honey."
Bateman just laughed and carelessly pushed her down, forcing her to continue. "Shut your fucking mouth and suck my dick. You stupid whore!"
Meredith was making too many noises which annoyed him so much as he was trying to concentrate on dreaming of you—your beautiful face, your innocent sparkling eyes. Although this girl was very pretty, definitely 'his type', there was not a single trace of you and he thought he would never reach his high.
"Mmhm, Patrick…Maybe you will fuck me already?"
"Maybe," he sighed, watching her laying on her back with undisguised excitement, but then he frowned in a weird disgust. "No, get on your knees. I can't see your fucking face."
"W-what? What's wrong with you today?Ah!"
Angrily, he slapped her hip and rolled her onto her stomach. Without any preparation, he bottomed out, closing his eyes and thinking about the way you twitched every time he thrust inside you. Speeding up his pounding, Patrick finally felt his orgasm building up inside his body when she suddenly moaned. "Oh, yeah! Daddy, it feels so good!"
That was not even rage, it was something beyond that. Brutally, he squeezed her neck, almost choking her, and growled near her ear as he leaned down. "Never call me that! Understand?" he yanked her against the bed, still clutching her throat, and only when she was on the verge of asphyxia he released her, fucking her harder and gritting his teeth. "Fucking bitch, you should thank me for not killing you."
Camera flashes never stopped clicking in front of your eyes, you almost thought it was impossible to hide from them. They were literally everywhere, as were the countless supermodels and rich yuppies who looked at them without shame, their hungry eyes ready to eat them alive.
"Hey, are you trying to get lost or what?"
With a soft gasp, you stopped and turned around to see Patrick's irritated face as you walked through the huge hall, every part of which gave you strong vibes of luxury lifestyle.
"I don't think you'd notice my absence anyway," you replied, walking straight until his arm wrapped around your waist, causing your lungs to spasm from the sudden lack of oxygen. "Patrick?"
"Listen to me," he pulled you closer and leaned down to your ear, whispering in a serious tone. "There are a lot of bad people here who came for more than just fashion."
"Even worse than you?"
He scowled, but continued. "Much worse, believe me."
"Don't pretend you care," you tried to walk away, brushing his hand aside, but he tightened his grip. "Get off me!"
"You're too naive and innocent. I don't want you getting into trouble while you're here with me." Tensed, Bateman stroked your back to calm you down a bit as he noticed the people around starting to stare at you.
"That's very sweet, but I don't need your 'protection'...I'm pretty sure you came here for the same reason as all the other yuppies."
"I didn't ask for your opinion, okay? Let's get to our seats," he said possessively, easily cradling you in his arms, covering your small frame like a cocoon. "We have the best seats, by the way. Right next to the runaway."
"Amazing," you murmured as he led you through the endless crowds. "Not a single model will escape your gaze."
"That's right."
Frowning, you were about to slip out of his grip when suddenly someone ran into you, stomping painfully on your feet.
"Ouch!" Your loud whimper caused Patrick to turn in your direction, but then he froze as he looked over your shoulder at the blonde girl who was immediately apologizing.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry..." the familiar voice hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I can be so clumsy," she touched her forehead before locking her lost gaze with Bateman's. "Patrick?"
That was Courtney. There was no doubt it was her, especially when she smiled at him so brightly it could easily outshine the Sun.
"Hello, Courtney. It's so good to see you!" Patrick crooned gallantly, his arms finally releasing your shivering body.
But even if a few minutes ago you wanted him to take his hands off you, now you were feeling a bit upset that he actually did.
"How could I miss this?" She asked flirtatiously, completely ignoring your presence. "Where are your seats?"
"Yeah, where are they?" You blurted out abruptly, making them both almost jump. "I just don't want to interrupt your sweet conversation and..."
You almost hissed from the sudden pain as you felt his firm hand on your ass, pinching your buttocks. His face didn't change, though, as he continued to grin haughtily, his eyes never ceasing to roam over Courtney's pretty body. With slight irritation, Bateman approached your neck and whispered in your ear how to get to your seats, then nibbled briefly on your earlobe as a sign of his displeasure, but you didn't pay any attention.
"Thank you, Daddy." You uttered the last word in the most disgustingly sweet way you could and strolled away without looking back. No matter how much you wanted to, you just couldn't.
Patrick wasn't lying—the seats were really so close to the runway that you could probably see every little detail on the models' clothes.
After about fifteen minutes, it was getting dark, which meant that the show was about to start. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but it just didn't work, your butt was still sore from Bateman's pinch.
As soon as you remembered him, you heard his voice as he moved across the seats to reach his place. Patrick grinned at you smugly as he sat down next to you, crossing one leg over the other and fixing his hair.
"You must be very pleased with yourself, Cupcake?" He asked mockingly.
You scowled and pretended not to understand what he was saying as the music turned up really loud: "I can't hear you."
Patrick just chuckled softly, put a hand on the back of your seat and moved closer. "I said you look so beautiful today."
'God, what a jerk.'
"Can't say the same about you."
"Uh, such an angry little kitten," Bateman laughed, looking at you from under his beautiful lashes. "I don't think I'll survive this."
"You really think I care?"
And then the show started, unfortunately not allowing you to finish what you were about to say. As expected, the models looked gorgeous and the clothes they were wearing were absolutely amazing—you had to admit that. Although you tried your best not to notice the way Patrick was staring at the girls on the runway, you had to claw at your skin when one of them winked at him without any shame.
"This is the grace I've been telling you about," he bowed closer to you to make sure you heard what he was saying. "The perfect example of feminine beauty."
You smiled ironically and replied without looking at him: "The real beauty begins when the boys come out."
Your sudden statement elicited a muffled groan from his chest, but Bateman simply nodded and turned away from you. From that moment on, he was almost silent, and it was a little strange, but as the male models appeared on the runway, you stopped analyzing and just enjoyed the handsome men walking back and forth in front of you. Everything was fine until one of the models found your eyes in the crowd and smiled at you. And of course Patrick wouldn't miss it.
"Do you like him?"
"W-who?" You stammered, feeling his warm hand on your knee.
"The model who just walked by," he murmured, stroking your exposed skin under the hem of your dress, sensing the way you tensed under his touch. "Maybe you should go talk to him after the show."
Shit, you couldn't believe he meant it or... you just didn't want to believe it?
"I'm not like you, Patrick," you chastised, feeling so damned angry as his words cut painfully through your heart. "You sometimes forget that not everyone is like that..."
"Like what?" Bateman scoffed with a raised eyebrow.
"You know what I mean." You added with a teasing smile and turned away from him, but he immediately grabbed your face, forcing you to squeal from the unexpectedness.
"No, I don't," he scoffed, pushing on your jaw. "C'mon, Cupcake, tell me."
The surrounding darkness came in handy in this situation, not to mention the fact that almost everyone was focused on watching the show, so Bateman felt pretty confident knowing that no one would notice your little fight here.
"Get off!" You hissed, wrapping both your hands around his wrist in an attempt to pry it away.
"Awww, look at those little hands," he pulled you closer, so you could feel his hot breath on your trembling lips. "You are so small and yet so brave. It fascinates me, I won't lie."
You froze for a second as his words caught you off guard. Blinking several times, you didn't even notice that his large palm was now gently stroking your chin, moving up to your cheek and ending this little intimate moment by pressing lightly on your half-opened lips.
Actually, that was the worst thing he could do at that moment, because his illusory softness and tenderness hurts like hell. It was like a sweet candy with a sharp blade inside.
Just as you realized how close your faces were, you tried to pull away, but Patrick's grip was too tight. Fixing you in place by your chin, he captured your mouth with his, hungrily relishing your taste, your shiver, your muffled gasp against his lips. Bateman tested your limits so masterfully that every little move he made was as precise as his side profile. Slowly he wrapped one hand around your neck while another was already resting on your waist, the kiss you shared was something more than just physical contact, and you let yourself sink into the flow of emotions, closing your eyes and letting him kiss deeper. You almost moaned, but the surrounding music of the show drowned out any obscene sounds that tried to escape your swollen lips.
His strong, warm tongue danced along yours, not even giving you a chance to take the lead, so you just opened your mouth wider and let your noses brush together, forcing your hearts to beat in a crazy rhythm.
God, this man was the darkest curse... the most delightful blessing.
After a few seconds, the people around started applauding so loudly that you had to open your eyes just as the lights came on. The strange delusion that was like a white veil behind your vision began to fade, and only then did you and Patrick realize that you were both staring at each other, your mouths still pressed together.
A second, two seconds.
It seemed as if you were both waiting to see who would break away first, and as soon as you heard someone coughing behind your back, you pulled away from Patrick's strong arms, but you knew that you only managed to break free because he let you.
"Patrick! I thought I wouldn't see you here!" A familiar female voice echoed from above and you didn't even bother to turn around to see another bimbo Bateman was hanging out with.
Shit, what if she saw what you were doing?
At first you thought Patrick would pretend he didn't know you or something, but instead Bateman smiled smugly and put his hand on the back of your chair.
Annoyed, but still as majestic as a lion, he looked up at the blonde and said quickly: "Hi, Meredith."
Her face turned into a sad grimace, though she pretended that Bateman's indifference didn't upset her. Obviously, Meredith was outraged and needed someone to take her anger out on.
With a haughty grin, she scoffed and almost stepped on your foot. "I don't understand, how can a man like you go out with someone like... her?"
Damn, that was such an obvious insult that it didn't even trigger a single emotion, you just gave her a deadly stare when you finally met her little eyes and you could swear that you saw a trace of fear in them.
"I asked myself the same question," you muttered suddenly, getting up from your seat and looking at Patrick, whose perfect eyebrows now frowned, especially when he understood what you were you doing—he squeezed the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "Have a nice evening."
With those words, you quickly walked away, and you were so damn glad that Bateman decided not to follow you, because with every step you took, your eyes got more and more watery.
"How did she even get here? Ugly people like that should stay at home to avoid traumatizing anyone." Meredith hissed as she watched your little figure moving away from them. "Who is she?"
Patrick chuckled, then did his classic move of parrying the question with his natural charm. "Oh, you're so mean," he muttered as he watched the blonde take your seat next to him. Playfully, Bateman pinched her nose and they both started to giggle, no matter how disgusted he felt himself right now, he wouldn't admit that your sudden leaving made him sad. "Such an angry little bitch."
You couldn't remember how you found your way to the ladies' room, but as soon as you stepped up to the sink and looked in the mirror, you scowled and clenched your fists from the sharp pain in your chest.
"I... I hate you so much!" You hissed in a trembling voice, not really knowing who you were addressing, yourself or Patrick, who was probably already taking the blonde bimbo to his place.
His womanizer nature was not a secret, so why did it hurt so fucking much?
Depressed by your weakness towards this man, you wanted to smash the mirror to stop seeing this sad face covered with tears, but you heard someone coming, so you just froze in place with your trembling hands in the air. A model walked past you and accidentally bumped your shoulder.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She squealed and opened the fauster to wash her hands.
Even though you understood that she didn't do it on purpose, it made you so mad that you almost ran out of the bathroom, loudly slamming the door behind you.
The moment you realized that you couldn't remember how to get out of here made all your insides cramp like a spring, and you thought you were just going to fall to the floor from a sudden fear of being lost. 'Fuck, not now, not now!'
Quivering, you looked around, searching for... Patrick? But instead of him, you could only see an endless number of beautiful models strolling here and there. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to calm yourself, but when that didn't help, your legs seemed to give way, and you slipped against the wall until you rested on the floor. This panic attack was nothing compared to the ones you had before, your heart pounding painfully against your chest as if trying to burst through it. Things got worse when you felt the lack of oxygen as you literally suffocated with panic and your body burned from the inside out.
The group of models stood by and noticed your small, shivering form, rocking back and forth with your hands wrapped around your head.
"Hey! Are you okay?" One of them approached you and crouched down beside you, trying to help you up, but you refused.
"Don't touch her, Lizzy! Maybe she's on drugs. Let's go already!"
"No, wait... she clearly needs help," the models looked at each other, one of them trying to pat your shoulder to calm you down, while her friend tapped her foot annoyingly. "Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you?"
"N-no," you finally mumbled, opening your eyes to see that not only two, but many of these girls were already gathered around you. "I— I'm fine, I'm sorry... I'm just..."
Lost.
Jesus, that was so embarrassing that the words just stuck in your throat like a lump, and now you felt like a little girl who got lost in the big mall when she decided to run away from her parents.
"What's going on here?" That voice made you almost faint. "Get away!"
A bit roughly, Bateman pulled the model away from you and leaned down to your shivering form.
"HEY! We were just trying to help!"
"Go away! All of you!" He turned and barked at all the girls watching the scene. "Get the hell out of here, there is nothing to look at!"
Your head was spinning, at first you couldn't even believe it was him, hiding you from everyone with his broad, tall figure, as if he was trying to… protect you?
"Cupcake? Cupcake, look at me," his worried cooing made you submit, making you want to believe that he was really concerned about you. Gently, he cupped your face and stroked your slightly disheveled hair. "What happened?"
At first, you didn't say anything — you were paralyzed, mesmerized by his brown eyes, which were gliding desperately up and down your body, checking every little part of it.
"Who did this to you?"
'You did.'
But he would never know.
"You came," you replied briefly. "Why?"
Patrick frowned at your answer and let out a tired sigh. "I've been looking for you since you left, because this place is huge, and I didn't want you to get into trouble, but," he paused and brushed your tears away concisely. "But it looks like I'm too late. God, you're so reckless," he shook his head and stood up.
As soon as Patrick did that, something clicked in your head, and you didn't even notice that you were already on your feet as you snuggled up to him and buried yourself in his arms with a deadly grip.
"Please, don't go!" You begged in a trembling voice, hugging him tighter. "Don't leave me!"
Shocked, Bateman didn't know how to react, his arms dropped motionlessly, but then he carefully placed them on your back, drawing invisible lines along your spine.
"I have to get our coats. You came here in your coat, did you forget?"
Blinking several times as you looked into his eyes, you replied softly: "Yeah… I did."
Patrick couldn't help but smile adorably. "Wait for me here, (y/n). I'll lead you outside, you'll feel better there." He explained and distanced himself from you. "Don't go anywhere! Got it?"
You nodded, and only then did he walk away. Without even looking back, he disappeared into the crowd.
Bateman was right, once you left the building your condition improved, and you could finally breathe in the fresh air, filling your lungs with the oxygen they so desperately needed. A cool wind blew into your face, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the emotions you were experiencing right now — the fact that Patrick had come for you, that he was looking for you, left you with no choice but to stifle a loud scream that you wanted so bad to let out.
Bateman remained silent, standing a short distance behind you, puffing on his cigar and watching the smoke rise from it.
"Has this ever happened to you before?" His question came out of nowhere.
You shrugged, but didn't turn around. "Yeah... it happens sometimes, especially in crowded places."
Bateman didn't say anything, but you could feel the tension between the two of you. Without a rush, he moved closer to you, watching you hug yourself — the difference in your sizes made him gulp, but he didn't dare touch you. Not yet.
"Why didn't you tell me then?" He whispered above your ear before smoking his cigar.
"Because it doesn't matter."
"It does."
"No!" You blurted out and turned round to face him. "It… doesn't."
The way he looked at you was enough to make you hold your breath and take a small step back, but the next moment you were already trapped in his sturdy arms, the sharp smell of snuff filling the air around you as he blew off several rings of smoke.
"You're not going anywhere now." His voice lowered, and you closed your eyes from the astonishing sensation of being caught in his strong hands, feeling his hot breath on your face.
"Patrick," you gasped and hugged him back, surprising him for a second. "Thank you for... for everything."
A loud cacophony of laughter and rumbling got your attention and you looked over his shoulder to see Meredith and her friends coming towards you. She seemed to spot you even faster than you spotted her, and now her eyes were bloodshot red.
"Can you," you stammered, feeling ashamed. "Can you kiss me?"
What the hell was going on inside your head?
Anyway, you didn't have time to reflect on this, because Patrick wasn't the type of person who needs to be asked twice. The moment his soft lips met yours, the ground under your feet seemed to disappear, so he had to hold you with both hands, not caring that his expensive cigar fell down. Even if you would blame yourself for that, all you could think about now was his strong hands sliding along your small form, outlining your curves as you let him do it, while he used his wet tongue to make you go limp in his embrace.
Sneakily, Patrick admired your beautiful face with his half-open eyes, probably not even realizing how much you meant to him, how deep you were rooted in his soul. But did he even have a soul in the first place?
When you broke the kiss, you didn't see Meredith or her friends anymore. Bateman noticed you were looking for something, so he turned to look at the direction of your gaze.
"Cupcake?" He was confused when he didn't see anyone. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Uh, yeah! I just thought I saw a familiar face," you lied, trying to act natural. "I... I should probably go home."
Patrick gave you a suspicious glance, still holding you in his arms. "Actually, I don't want to leave you alone after what happened."
"What do you mean?" you asked, a little disappointed. "I said I'm fine."
"Shhh," he pressed a finger to your lips, and you felt the smooth, cold leather of his glove. "I know you like to be bratty, but now isn't a good time. You really scared me."
Sighing, you dropped your head and covered his hand with both of yours. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't want you to see me like that."
To be honest, you didn't want anyone to see you like this because you hated looking weak in front of people. Especially in front of people like him, because it would automatically give him another trump card to play around with.
"Let me take you home." Bateman mumbled briefly, fixing your hair and then rubbing your neck to relax you.
"Aren't you afraid you'll have a heart attack coming to my place? It's not like your apartment in Manhattan."
He chuckled and pinched your cheek, leaving you confused and offended.
"Of course it's not," Patrick grinned and poked you in the nose. "I don't have any expectations."
You frowned and tried to push him back, but he only pressed you closer, nuzzling your neck and leaving a small hickey on it for which you were not ready — your muffled whimper made him sneer even louder.
"That's a pretty exhaustive answer," he didn't even allow you to say anything in return as he kissed you again, but this time much more passionately. "I'll get us a cab."
This man was like a hurricane that tossed everything around and no matter how many walls you built — he would break them down, one after the other, because nature couldn't be stopped. It seemed that you were completely disarmed against your own nature, because it was calling for him, it was pushing you into his possession, and you were already so tired of fighting these feelings.
There was something special about New York at night, when millions of lights were shining like diamonds, reflecting on the water of the Hudson River and taking your breath away with the feeling of being so small in such a huge city, where the numerous soaring skyscrapers were almost touching the sky.
Tiredly, you closed your eyes, sighed, and leaned on the armrest of the car door, watching the scenery change behind the window. Patrick listened to the music, as he always did, his hands stroking your knee from time to time, but you could hardly feel it, since you were completely overwhelmed by emotions, feelings and thoughts. It was hard to believe that even after all that had happened, you still let him take you home, knowing damn well that he wouldn't just stay in the cab when it stopped at your place.
Just as you entered your apartment and turned on the lights, you heard his slightly nervous chuckle and little comment.
“Mmm, it's pretty clean here.”
His words almost made you choke. “Did you really think that my place would look like a dump just because I don't live in Manhattan?”
“I didn't mean that.” Bateman murmured behind you, following you carefully down the hall. “Where can I put my coat?”
“Why do you ask? I don't remember inviting you here,” You took off your coat and put it on the rack next to him. “Aren't you afraid your coat will stink of poverty?”
Patrick couldn't help but chuckle in a husky voice. “You're funny, Cupcake.”
'And why did I trust this man at all? What was so special about him?'
You didn't say anything, only a thin smile ran over your tired face as you turned around and saw him putting his coat over yours. After that, you continued to walk to your small kitchen, and as soon as you reached the table next to the window, your eyes began to search for something.
“Did you lose something?” He asked, leaning against the wall and hiding his hands in his pockets.
“N-no,” you stammered, as if he had caught you doing something bad. God, he was embarrassing you in your own apartment! “Just … It's been a while since I've had guests.”
Patrick hummed something incoherently and crossed his arms over his broad chest, then moved lazily to the kitchen counter when something caught his eye while you were busy gathering all the stuff on the kitchen table — including some books and various papers from work.
With undisguised interest, Bateman picked up the medicine to take a closer look at its name. “Don't you know these things can cause addiction?”
“What?” You turned to see him examining your sedatives.
“How long have you been taking them?” He asked again, his perfect eyebrows knitted together now.
You sighed tiredly and walked over to him, holding out your hand. “Not too long. Now give it to me, please.”
“I can bring you much better medication than this, since it obviously doesn't work,” he stated in a stern voice, without looking at you. “Because the panic attacks are still kicking your pretty ass.”
His words made your jaw clench, but you didn't even try to snatch the medication from him, instead you just let out a soft groan of annoyance, crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.
“That's very kind of you, but I have to decline your offer.” You replied, watching him shake his head in irritation. “Besides, you can only get those pills with a doctor's prescription.”
Patrick just shrugged and put the pills back on the kitchen counter.
“That's not a problem,” he quickly straightened his red tie before stepping closer to you. “I have one of the best therapists in the city.”
“Uh-huh, and the pharmacy you go to is probably one of the best, too?”
He grinned. “Sure, I usually get my meds from the one on Broadway.”
“Good for you.”
You started to saunter away from him, but his hands caught you faster than you could react. The next thing you knew, Bateman was holding you tightly against his tall, broad frame, looking down at you with obvious concern.
“Cupcake,” he murmured in a sweet voice, tracing a finger along your cheek. “I just want to help.”
Damn, this man only had to touch you a little bit and you were already lost in him.
“Patrick, you don't have to. I—” You didn't have a chance to finish your sentence because your lips were sealed by his.
Completely defenseless and vulnerable — that was how you felt right now, and it seemed as if he could feel it as the kiss grew deeper and more intense with each passing moment. Cautiously, you rested your hands on his shoulders before sliding them down to the lapels of his suit, fumbling with the soft material and feeling the ground disappearing beneath your feet.
'It's already too much.'
Only when you were both breathless did Patrick decide to break the kiss, but his arms were still wrapped around your waist, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage.
“You were involved in all this because of me," he paused and leaned down to you again, letting your noses rub against each other. This little physical contact made your heart flutter. “And you really made me worry.”
Bateman said it so quickly, as if he wasn't even thinking properly at that moment. Embarrassed, you shrugged a bit in his arms. No matter how hard you tried to believe this man, all you could think about now was whether you were trapped in his other manipulative, mind games.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast under your fingertips and the next second you pulled your hand away as if you got burned. “Anyway, it’s late already and you probably have some more interesting stuff to do.”
His soft chuckling was annoying but pleasant to hear. “You’re not quite hospitable, aren’t you?”
Eventually, he let you go and stepped aside, unbuttoning his jacket — that scene caused your pulse to race.
“What are you doing?” “What does it look like?”
You crossed your arms and sighed. “Patrick, I really appreciate your help and… the show was really cool, but I doubt I would ever go back to that place again.” 'Damn it, did I actually say that?'
After Bateman removed his jacket, he carefully put it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tucked his sleeves.
“You’re welcome,” he beamed with a cocky smile. “I thought you would offer me some tea, coffee or something?”
“I doubt I have anything good to your taste,” slowly, you turned away from him, as an unpleasant feeling of shame struck you right through your chest. “Mmm, I can only offer you mineral water but it’s not Apollinaris.”
“Oh, dear,” he crooned and suddenly hugged you from behind. “I didn’t expect you to have Apollinaris. Honestly.”
Gasping barely audibly, you covered his arms on your waist with your own arms and cocked your head to meet his brown eyes and for God’s sake, why did he always look so tempting, so captivating, so… magnetizing?
With a sharp breath, you managed to avoid another kiss he planned to pull you into, and it coaxed a low growl of disappointment to erupt from his half-opened lips which were so intended to collapse with yours.
“Patrick,” you gulped when he nuzzled against your neck, leaving small wet marks along your sensitive skin. “Please, stop. Let me just bring you some water and I want to relax a bit, after… after everything that happened.”
It was kinda unexpected that Bateman decided to let you go as easy as that without even trying to overpower you like he always does.
“And what do you do to relax?"
“Hot bath.” You responded without looking at him. Annoyed, you stumbled past him to grab the meds he was inspecting a few minutes ago, and then you opened the fridge to take out the bottle of mineral water. As soon as you started to pour the water into the most beautiful glass you had, you noticed his persistent stare, which made you almost spill the water onto the kitchen counter. “What?”
“These pills are no good for you, (y/n),” his anxious tone was very unnatural, you didn’t even remember him sounding like this ever before. “Stop being stubborn.”
With a small thud, you put the glass on the table next to him and replied a bit aggressively: "I don't think they're worse than coke."
At first, Bateman just gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, but then he took a quick sip of the mineral water, trying as hard as he could to play cool.
“Thanks.” Was all he said and that was actually not the reaction you have expected.
There was an awkward silence hanging in the air for some seconds and none of you wanted to continue this conversation, but once you tried to move his hand (that was wrapped around your forearm), his low voice engulfed you like a hot steam.
“Cupcake, I just want to make sure you won’t do anything bad.” “W-what do you mean?” You frowned in confusion and glanced at his hand before you raised your eyes to his perfect face. “Patrick, I suffer from panic attacks… not the things you're thinking of.”
“Then, go take a bath and I’ll leave after that.”
“But I’m not a child,” the more you were trying to resist him, the more your body was yearning for his touch, his large palm on your back was enough to make you forget how to breathe. “You don't owe me anything, this is my problem and I’ll handle this, just like I was doing it before.”
“To be fair, your behavior only shows how immature you are,” he crooned and traced a long, sensible line along your spine. “But, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since you’re overwhelmed.”
At some point, you found yourself tired from trying to convince him to leave you alone, so you just nodded and quickly took your sedative before heading to the bathroom under his attentive gaze. After all, even if you even attempted to make him go away you would fail because compared to him you were so small and weak — Patrick had power over you in all ways, and he knew that.
You were trapped in your own flat, what nonsense.
In a few minutes, you were sitting in the bath and letting the warm water bring you some relief, just like it always did. Affected by sedatives, you didn’t even remember whether you closed the bathroom door or not, but being honest, you didn’t really care, because even if Patrick came here he wouldn’t see anything new.
The bitter aftertaste of what happened made you feel like shit, and you really didn't know how to find a way out from it. As if it was not enough for you to be dependent on Patrick (you owe him a lot of money), now you gave him more weaknesses that he could potentially use against you.
'Excellent!'
Hugging your knees, you burst in tears — salty tears that were falling into the water, leaving small circles on it. Before now, you didn’t even realize how devastated you were. You closed your eyes for a second and you drifted off almost instantly, and with each passing moment, your body was submerging into the water more and more.
Meanwhile, Bateman was sitting on the little couch in your living room, which he suddenly found pretty cozy, though he checked if everything was clean enough before he dared to take a seat. Did he really think that people outside Manhattan used to live in dirty, trashy apartments? Well, maybe he did, since he didn’t even remember when was the last time he was in such places.
Ever since you left, Patrick had been fighting the temptation to go through your things to find something interesting, which he would of course use for his own interests. But instead, he picked up one of your books from the coffee table, and as he did so, a small piece of paper fell out. Squinting suspiciously, Bateman leaned down to grab it, only to almost crumple it when he saw your handwriting — the paper was completely covered with your notes, and they were all the same phrase — "If I want to be loved as I am, I have to be willing to love others as they are." Patrick couldn't count how many times you had written that, but each line he read evoked something strange in him — the unraveling feeling that urged him to rip the paper, to crumple it. Is it compassion that he was so afraid of?
Closing his eyes for a moment, Bateman took a deep breath and put the paper back in the book, no matter how much he wanted to destroy it or forget what he had just read. After that, he checked his Rolex and noticed that it had been quite a while since you had left. Slowly, he got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. His 'sixth sense' had never failed him before, so he decided to rely on it and check on you.
Patrick didn’t knock once he noticed that the door was not closed, he just stepped in, looking for you.
“Cupcake, are you—”
A chilling shock swept over him when he saw only the top of your head above the water. Without a second thought, he ran across the bathroom and knelt down beside the tub to pull you out of the water, and the moment he did, you began to cough, clinging to his arms and desperately gasping for air.
“Pat-Patrick,” you were shaking so badly, so he had to hold you in one place, pressing you against his solid chest. “I don’t know how that happened… I… I didn’t want this I—” “Shh, (y/n),” Bateman cooed at you in order to calm you down, but he wasn't any less scared than you. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Trembling, you looked up at him — your eyes so red from tears, your heart beating like a broken alarm-clock. “I think I ruined your suit… I’m so sorry!”
Appalled, you tried to break free but Patrick didn’t let you move, his strong arms were holding you like tight ropes. Damn, he was so angry — he could sense his blood boiling inside his veins, forcing his jaw to clench in a silent growl. He was so fucking mad at himself.
How could he let this happen?
As this question ran through his bewildered mind, he froze in fear. He didn't know if he was talking about letting you nearly drown in your own bathtub or letting you take roots on his broken soul. Maybe that was the reason you two had bonded, two broken souls seeking for something that would stop their pain, something that would bring them freedom from a burdened life. But how could he help you when every day he was fighting his dark side, the side you didn't know about yet? The side he wished you would never meet.
Never.
"God... I'm so stupid." You cried out, interrupting his train of thought and bringing him back to reality.
"Shh," Bateman husked, cupping your face. "Stop talking!" He sighed and looked into your blurry eyes, breathing so heavily that it was almost painful. "Just don't say anything right now."
Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the sedative had a side effect on you, but as soon as he tried to pull you out of the tub completely, your hand slipped down his chest to his groin — your sneaky fingers instantly playing with the buckle of his belt, causing a shaky groan to escape his lips. Dazed, you moved your hand lower to feel the outline of his thick cock getting harder under your touch, but as you were about to unzip his pants, his firm hand stopped you, confusing your cloudy mind and inducing you to raise your eyes to meet his. He could swear no one had ever looked at him like that — so innocently, yet so sinfully.
"Cupcake, you don't want this," Patrick murmured, removing your hand. "Trust me."
"I do want this!" You replied in a trembling voice, pouting like a child.
"You're so fucking lost right now, you just don't understand," he manhandled you out of the tub and you almost punched him in his beautiful face, but Bateman paid no attention to your attempt to hit him. "Towels, where are they?"
Huffing, he lifted you up, and only then did you calm down, wrapping your hands and legs around him as securely as you could, like you were afraid of falling off the roof of the skyscraper.
After you pointed at the bathroom counter, Bateman carefully moved towards it to take some big, white towel and wrap it around you — he was drying you off so gently and attentively, it almost made you cry again.
Emotions were overtaking you.
Patrick didn't even say a word when he was done, he just got another dry towel and swaddled you in it like in a cocoon before carrying you out of the bathroom bridal style. Somehow, he managed to find the way to your bedroom, but once he saw your bed, he scowled and remarked: “Jesus, this bed is so small.”
“I love my bed.” You murmured in reply, hugging his neck and pressing yourself closer against his warm body.
Bateman couldn't help but chuckle in amusement, giving you a brief forehead kiss and sitting you down on the bed. As soon as you lost physical contact with him, you leaned on your elbows, watching him turn around and walk away.
“Patrick! Please, don’t go!”
Your words echoed inside his head like the most sacred plea, they made him stop and looked in your direction. “I need to remove my clothes since they’re pretty damp,” he checked himself, with a visible disgust on his face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be a good girl, and just wait for me here, okay?”
“Fine.” You mumbled and took the plushy bunny which was resting on your bed next to you.
This scene made him chuckle before he left your bedroom. Now you were completely alone with your thoughts, they didn't wait a second to start eating you from the inside again. With your eyes closed, you lay on your back and began to count.
One, two, three…
What if he lied saying that he would return? Gosh, you wanted him to leave the moment you came here, so why were you getting so upset thinking about him leaving you alone just as you asked him for?
Four, five, six…
The inner voice kept reminding you how many times Patrick has hurt you, how many times he made you cry, how many times you felt like a toy in his hands. You gritted your teeth, pressing your hands against your head to stop thinking.
Seven, eight, nine…
How many times have you promised yourself that you would break out from this circle of lies, pain and suffering?
“Stop it!” You whimpered, shutting your eyes as firm as you could until the tears started to form.
Ten.
“Stop what?” His voice—it was like a lifeline, like a light in the end of the tunnel, it was everything you needed here and now.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his almost naked form, namely his toned tiddies and his mouth watering V-line, not to mention his perfect abs and the small trail of hair below his navel.
“For one second I thought you would just leave.” You looked into his hazel eyes, which were partly covered by his messy, brown hair.
“In wet clothes?” He giggled and stepped closer to your bed. It was so hard to ignore the bulge in his tight white underwear, but you tried your best not to stare at it. “Feeling better?"
“Yes, I think y-yes,” you swallowed hard when Bateman sat on the edge of your small bed and drew an invisible line across your ankle. “Can I… ask you for something?”
“You can try.” His voice got lower, sending shivers down your spine.
Panting, you uncovered yourself, putting the towel aside and letting him admire the view of your beautiful body, a pleasure he gladly took, his thirsty eyes roaming all over your curves, especially your full breasts and your inviting neck.
“What do you want, Cupcake?” His hand slides up to your hip, teasing the sensitive skin and making you gasp from need. “Tell me.”
“I need you,” you bit your lower lip, frowning from how embarrassed you were. “I n-need you more than ever.”
With no rush, Bateman bent down to your belly to press a brief kiss which elicited a soft moan to fall from your shaky throat. “Show me where you need me.”
You were about to lost it at any second, as the mind-blowing passion was crashing over you like a fucking tsunami, and you didn’t even know if you would survive this.
Could that be the moment of no return for both of you?
Stifling a moan, you took his big palm and guided between your opened legs—the sound of his fingers sliding along your oozed folds made you arched your back and you thought your heart would break out from your chest. Your heavy breathes filled up the room, and once you felt his hot lips on your mound, you nearly squeaked, creasing the sheets beneath you.
Patrick was enjoying every second of this moment, savoring the taste of your skin, reveling in all your little salacious noises when he encircled his arms around your legs and swiped his tongue over your throbbing clit.
That was the last drop of your resistance and you couldn't control it anymore, throwing your head back and mewling sensually: “Mmhm, Daddy…! You make me f-feel so good.”
“Are you sure you want this?” His sudden question pierced through your head like an electric pulse.
Gulping, you got up a bit to look down at him, his cheeks, neck and shoulders were already flushed, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were as dark as night.
“Yes,” you responded shortly, feeling a tight knot forming inside your lower abdomen just from being so close to his face. “Taste me, Daddy, please… I want to get lost… in you.”
“I see,” he said, hovering over you for a moment to grab the plushy bunny, then handing it to you with a mischievous grin. "Little girls always keep their favorite toys close?”
As soon as you held the bunny, Bateman got back to his previous position, fondling your hips here and there, then he kissed your inner thigh and put your legs together before bending them and pressing against your chest.
“Stay like that.”
After saying that, he brushed away his wavy locks, spit on your pussy and made several, barely sensible, strokes along your bundle of nerves, his sturdy arms were holding your legs to fixate you in one place as his ministrations were making it hard for you to stay still.
“Awww, P-Patrick,” you keened and squeezed the plush toy in your hand, feeling so dirty yet so high from the way his wet tongue was painting various ornaments on your taut lower lips. “I’m gonna faint…”
“Mmm,” he moaned against your feverish little bud before he took it inside his mouth, sucking it so deliciously that your eyes rolled back into your head, your inner walls were already spasming. “You’re my sweet little Cupcake.”
“Yes! Yes, please!”
Slurping at your soaked cunt, Bateman let you rest your legs on his shoulders and pull on his brown hair as you wanted to bring him even closer, moving your hips towards his face. God, you were such a wet moaning mess and when he shoved his long fingers inside of your dripping slit, you lost connection with reality and ascended to the apex of ecstasy.
His fingers were moving inside and outside of you like a clock-work, so smoothly and fast, since he knew your body so perfectly, it was quite simple for him to find your spongy G - spot. Once he started to stimulate it, your toes began to curve and your whole body was jolting as if you were hit by the eclectic shock.
The moment of your orgasm was as astonishing and relieving as a sip of water in the arid desert. But even after you cummed, Patrick didn’t stop eating you out, fingering you harder, so your juices were gashing around your sweaty bodies, the sheets beneath you were already wet and you didn’t know how you would live tomorrow when he leaves you.
“Mmmmh, I’mma cum again, D-Daddy!” You whimpered, squirming around the bed and pressing the plushy bunny against your face as you were on the verge of tears – overstimulation hitting pretty hard.
Bateman only growled in response and stuffed your soaked pussy with another finger, rhythmically swirling his hot tongue around your throbbing tip while his sneaky hand traced up along your shivering body to grope one of your breasts and pinch your engorged nipple.
“Ahhh—GOSH…! Pat...” Your voice cracked as you cummed so hard all around his face that your wetness was literally running down his chin. But he didn’t care, because the only thing that mattered for him was bringing you as much pleasure as he could.
Even when he was panting heavily against your abused cunt, and he almost couldn't feel his fingers anymore, he continued to lap at your cleft. By that moment your legs were looped around his head and you couldn’t stop twitching even for a second, with each lick he sent millions of tingles to your lower belly.
“Daddy, it’s t-too much… I can’t take it any longer.” You felt so goddamn sensitive, and your body was like jelly at this point.
“C’mon, babydoll,” he groaned in a raspy voice after he pulled on your clit with a nasty squeal. “You can give Daddy another one, can't you baby? For me, please?"
This time Patrick buried his tongue as deep inside your womb as he could, licking you from the inside out. He repeated the motion, making you climax countless times in a row, until your little frame couldn't bear it anymore. Soon, you drifted off with a smile of joy on your face, holding the plushy bunny close to your chest. Long time ago that toy was your only friend, but now it seemed like you have become a toy yourself. But unlike the plush bunny, it was obvious that you weren't the only toy for your owner.
Why did it hurt so good to be alive?
You heard a faint voice calling you and asking for help, but no matter how hard you tried to follow it and find it—all you could see was darkness before your eyes. Scared, you moved along the dark alley, surrounded by shadows, shivering from the abnormal cold, and for a second you even thought you were already dead. But when the voice called you again, you finally realized that it was your inner voice, but it sounded so sad, even compared to your darkest days.
"How did you end up like this, (y/n)?" Your own reflection spoke to you, each word cutting through your heart like a dagger. "You're so pathetic and weak, what would Mom and Dad say if they knew about your 'successful' life in New York?"
Frowning, you closed your hands around your ears to stop this madness, but the more you tried to ignore it, the louder the voice became in your head.
"Look what you've done to yourself! Do you really think he cares about you?"
"Leave me alone!" You yelled at your shadow copy and ran down the alley, but there seemed to be no escape.
"Wake the fuck up! Bateman is just using you for his own needs, and you let him treat you like a fucking toy. Being in debt to him is not an excuse!" You could hear it even with your ears closed and there was nowhere to hide.
"SHUT UP!" You sped up, the cold air hitting your face mercilessly, but you didn't care. "Get out of my head!"
God, it was so fucking absurd to argue with yourself.
Perplexed and scared, you suddenly realized that the faster you were running the louder your inner voice was getting, bringing you a sharp headache as if a million needles cut into your brain at once. It hurt really bad.
“Patrick! Patrick, where are you?” You cried out as the darkness was clouding around you with each passing second. “Please, I need you…” A single tear slid down your warm cheek when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as though you were drowning. “Pat-Patrick…”
Slowly closing your eyes, you let the void consume you, which actually brought you some relief, because now you were free from pain and sorrow, reveling in the sweet space of non-existence.
A loud gasp bounced against the walls of your small bedroom, signaling of your eventual awakening. Panting, you sat on the bed only to see Bateman’s sleepy form next to you—he was sleeping like a baby, laying on his back and sniffling from time to time. Shocked, you were trying your best to regain your composure and steady your heavy breathing, not even noticing that you were drenched in sweat.
Quietly, you slipped out from under the covers to find yourself completely naked, so the next thing you did was find something to put on. Subsequently, you rushed inside your small bathroom and saw Bateman’s clothes drying off on the battery—the memories of the recent events flashed across your mind like a slow-motion movie. First, you were taking a bath—which was still full of cold water—then you nearly drowned but Patrick came in time and literally saved you. The next flashbacks made you lean on the sink and hold back your breath—his eager mouth on your cunt, forcing you to lose your mind and cum again and again until you eventually drifted off.
Jesus Christ.
Embarrassed, you quickly opened the water and washed your face several times until you cooled down a bit. After you regain your composure, you fasten your terry robe and head to the kitchen as you were so starved that you even had a stomach ache.
New York was already awake, and the sun was high above the horizon, shining so brightly in the windows that you had to close your blinds and thank God it was Sunday and you didn't have to go to the office because your head was spinning due the aftereffect of your sedative pills. Speaking of them—once you saw the jar with pills on the kitchen counter you threw it into the rubbish without any second thought, yet you didn’t want Bateman to know that he had an influence on your decision. When you closed the door to the kitchen, you accidentally slammed it harder than you should have, and it cracked so loudly that it sounded like a bundle of dishes broke at the same time.
"Damn it!" You cursed to yourself, pressing a palm to your face, certain that the noise would wake Bateman up.
Panicking a bit, you retreated to your bedroom and as soon as you stepped in you saw the man of your dreams stretching out and yawning so adorable, that for a moment you just froze in your place, not capable of taking your eyes off from Bateman’s disheveled hair and his broad chest.
With a low growl, Patrick pulled the blanket away and finally noticed you. "Woah, Cupcake, was that you?" The man chuckled, casually flexing his muscles as he looked at the mirror next to the door where you were standing. "I thought something had exploded outside."
Abashed, you quickly adjusted your robe from his piercing gaze. "Sorry, I can be really..."
"Clumsy?" Smiling broadly, Bateman leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms.
"Yes, clumsy," you tugged with your fingers, briefly glancing down—damn, he seemed to be the only person who could embarrass you so easily. "Well...do you want anything?"
"Hmmm, let me think," Patrick hummed before he thoughtfully pressed a finger to his plump lips. "I probably have something on my mind," Bateman gave you a mischievous grin when he saw your curious look and smoothed his golden brown hair. "How about a morning blowjob?" Your instant reaction was a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which made the man's face look even more smug. "Relax! I'm joking."
Of course he wasn't joking—you knew it and couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd pretend I didn't hear that," you said, finally looking away from his sturdy body. "How about breakfast?"
"That sounds really good."
Shocked, you took a moment to think about the possible options you could cook for him since you didn’t really expect him to give you a positive answer. “I can offset you with a scrambled egg and some fresh orange juice.”
With a satisfied grin, the man slowly got up from your modest bed and stretched his muscles again; he was definitely making it on purpose. “Oh, that’s nice,” he almost groaned when he cocked his head to one side then to another. “I can’t say the same about your bed, Cupcake… you should change the mattress if you want to keep walking with a straight back.”
And though Patrick was lamenting, you could say he said it almost affectionately—as if he really cared about you, yet you brushed this conclusion off as fast as your heart was pounding right now when the man got closer to you; his tall, massive frame towered over you like a mountain.
“I also would like to have a shower, if…there’s such an option,” Bateman smirked and briefly traced a finger along your cheek, coaxing you to close your eyes for a second and revel in the soft sensation of his touch. “Did you sleep well?”
A sudden question that fell from his lips like a suffocated gasp, a tender stroke on your shoulder and you were already melting as Patrick knew what he was doing, every touch, every glance of his brown hypnotic eyes was deliberate and smooth, leaving you no chance but to surrender to his demand.
“Yes, I slept like a baby, though I can hardly remember the things that happened before I blacked out,” you lied with an embarrassed smile. “You can have a shower and use whatever soaps and towels you’ll see.” Thee more you talked the more his lips curled, especially when you allowed him to bring you closer into his embrace. “But don’t expect anything extraordinary.”
“I won’t, I promise,” the man chuckled and playfully pinched your ass. “Sleeping beauty.”
With that, Patrick walked past you, leaving you alone for a moment, giving you a chance to pull yourself together. And when you seemed to relax, a thought of his clothes that had been left in the bathroom popped up in your mind. ‘Oh God, I forgot!’
Nervously, you rushed after Patrick into your bathroom to see that the door was already closed, implying that he was inside and probably naked, though you couldn’t hear the sound of flowing water. Embarrassed, you coughed quietly and knocked several times.
“Yeah?” Bateman’s muffled voice echoed through the door.
“Patrick, I…” a short pause turned into a breathless gasp. “If you’re not already in the shower, may I come in?”
After a moment, the door in front of you opened and you saw Patrick wrapped in a white towel. “Something wrong?”
“No,” you giggled nervously and sneaked inside the bathroom to quickly grab his clothes. “I just wanted to iron your…suit and stuff, while you’re in the shower…” Quickly, you hovered his garments over your arm and walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions, despite his surprised expression. “I’m so sorry for dumping your clothes yesterday.”
With these words, you deftly avoid his grasp as you knew he’d definitely try to make you embarrassed even more. “(Y/n)!”
“Take a shower. I’ll make you breakfast as I promised.”
This time, the man didn’t try to catch you or follow you, thankfully. So, you could safely make it to your living room where you set an ironing board and put his shirt first to iron. Wrapped in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how carefully you were ironing his clothes, you couldn’t even remember doing the same with your stuff but maybe you were just scared of ruining it since everything he wore was utterly expensive. ‘This suit probably costs like my monthly rent.’ Sighing, you put the shirt aside when you heard the water flowing sound and your mind instantly gave you an image of Patrick’s naked body, enveloped in steam and slightly flush from the heat. ‘Damn, I should stop or I'm gonna ruin something.’ When it was time to iron his tie, you ran your finger along the smooth red fabric, draped in beautiful intricate patterns—you couldn't deny that you had a thing for his ties, for all of them—you smiled to yourself before bringing it to your lips, you could still feel his cologne on it. This tantalizing scent was driving you crazy, it fit him so perfectly as if it was made specially for him, but even if that was true, you wouldn’t be surprised at all, regarding how rich this man was. The moment you finished ironing his pants, you seemed to hear his voice coming from the bathroom. ‘Perfect timing.’
Slightly tensed, you stopped next to the door. “Patrick? Did you call me?” When he didn’t reply, you became even more stirred, so without really caring about seeing him naked, you opened the door and stepped in. “Patrick?” Since your bathroom was much smaller than his, you bumped into his massive frame, squealing in surprise. “Oh God, sorry!”
“Oh, Cupcake,” he wrapped his hands around your shoulders before carefully cupping your face. “I hope you didn’t break your nose against my firm chest?”
Frowning, you gave him a dead glare but he only snickered back. “What happened? Why did you call me?”
“Do you have an extra toothbrush for me? I’ll buy you another one and…”
You stopped him halfway and removed his hands to stroll to the sink and opened the cabinet above it. “Here. There’s also a razor if you need.”
Smirking, Bateman sneaked behind you and pressed his wet body against yours. “Do ya think I need to shave?” He rubbed the mirror from steam to check himself, sliding a hand along his chiseled chin.
“I…I don’t know…I just thought in case you need to, the razor is here.”
“Mhm…” he hummed and before you knew it he nuzzled against your exposed neck, forcing you to gasp and stepped back right into his embrace, just like he planned it. “Does that tickle, Cupcake?”
‘Dear Lord, please give me the strength to survive this.’
Staying still, you just swallowed hard and let him continue to attack your neck, which he did with precious care before, but now, Patrick also used his mouth and teeth, and that was already too much.
"I think you definitely have some stubble," you laughed, trying to turn it into a joke. But as soon as you tried to walk away, he pulled you back into his strong arms, and that was not funny. "Breakfast Patrick, I have to make breakfast, did you forget?"
"Not really, but I need your help."
"Help?"
The man gave you a devilish smile before lifting you up and sitting you on the bathroom counter, not even giving you a chance to protest. Then Bateman took the shaving cream, checking the brand name skeptically, but then averting his eyes, probably thinking it was better not to know. With deliberate, calculated movements, he applied the cream to his cheekbones, moving up and down his face. The sight was something you never thought you'd find so damn hot that you didn't even make a sound, just watched him carefully prepare to shave.
"Have you ever seen a man shave, darling?" Patrick asked in a cheeky tone, surely noticing the way you were staring at him.
You shook your head. “No,” you shamelessly checked on him, following the little buds of water slipping down his torso. “God, this is such a silly question, don’t you think?”
Instead of answering, Bateman flexed his muscles while watching in the mirror and missing the way you rolled your eyes. “Well, now you finally have a chance.” The man winked at you and grabbed the razor. “You know, I really like your place, it’s pretty clean.”
“You already said that.”
“Oh, did I?”
“Yes,” you crossed your arms and turned away just the moment when the man started to glide the razor against his jawline—you thought the blade would become blunt because his cheekbones were too sharp—his every action was smooth and skillful. “That was the first thing you said when we came in.”
“That only means that it’s really very clean here.”
Huffing, you fixed your robe and cursed to yourself, ‘Why does he always have to be like this?’
Opening the faucet, Patrick cleaned his face after the last stroke of the razor. “Can you check here?”
Confused, you gave him a questioning gaze when he turned halfway, pointing at the apex of his jaw. Sheepishly, you touched his freshly shaved skin, feeling a slight prickly sensation. “I think it’s still a bit stubbly.”
“Aha,” Bateman acknowledged and quickly took your hand in his big one, briefly kissing the top of it and giving you the razor. “I told you, I’d need your help, Cupcake.”
“How do you even do it yourself?”
“The razors I use are much sharper than this one, honey,” he chuckled but once you placed the razor against his skin he stopped moving. “Just be careful.”
The last phrase struck a chord inside your chest and you even stopped for a moment to take a deep breath before you eventually began to shave the rest of the stubble. All the while, Patrick would glance at you attentively, his hazel irises like hypnotizing spirals, so you forced yourself to stay focused on the razor and the patch of his skin still covered in a shaving cream.
“You have such soft skin,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but you were sure he heard it. “It’s so pleasurable to touch.”
“(Y/n),” he suddenly called out your name in a stern voice. “I think we should talk about yesterday.”
“No…”
"Listen to me," he grabbed the hand that held the razor and pushed it to the side. "You should stop taking that sedative."
“It was just an accident.”
“You could die, Cupcake…”
"I...I know...I owe you for saving me," you finally stated, releasing your hand to finish shaving him. "But let me take care of my life."
“Ouch.”
“Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” You jolted in panic, almost dropping the razor as if you were hit by the electric shot.
“Yes, you did,” Bateman glided a palm along his now perfectly shaved cheeks. “With your words.”
Letting out a sad sigh, you put the razor into the sink next to you and reached for another towel for him as you watched him washing his face. The more you kept silent, the more palpable the tension was getting in the air and after a brief moment of contemplating, you decided that the best option now was just to go to the kitchen and cook.
“Toothbrush is here.” You murmured and got up from the bathroom counter, about to leave but Patrick stopped you.
First, you glanced down at his grasp around your wrist, then you raised your eyes to meet his walnut ones, now they were absolutely dark and demanding. Inch by inch, the man was getting closer, soon you could feel the fresh scent of your soap on his wet skin as he pressed you along his broad form, one hand rested on the small of your back, while another snaked beneath your robe to outline one of your hard peaks, which were visible through the fabric.
“Pat-Patrick…”
“No more ‘Daddy’ again, huh?” he whispered into your ear, playing with your stray lock. “Do you remember how many times you called me like that last night?”
‘No! I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember this, I…’
“...your sweet voice sounded so good with all these little dirty pleas, ‘Daddy, don’t stop, mmhm-please!’ Uhhh, that was really something,” Bateman crooned against your neck, forcing you to step back until he trapped you between his massive body and bathroom counter. “Got you.”
There was nothing to say more, once his warm mouth latched on yours, the urge to deny him fading with every second of the kiss, especially when Patrick savagely sucked on your lower lip and drew his tongue across it as if asking for permission to slip inside.
Gasping, you instinctively inclined your head to the side for a moment and the man used it for showering your delicate neck with little peeks which then transformed into wet, red marks. This sweet torture could last forever if you suddenly didn’t press your palm against his naked chest in a determined way.
“We can’t,” you protested when he got down to kiss you again. “You’re engaged, don’t you think it’s so mean to…cheat on your fiance?”
The man couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What does that have to do with anything? You owe me, Cupcake, you owe me a lot.”
Annoyed, you made an attempt to push him away, but you obviously failed as Patrick was too strong, looming over you like a mountain. “If you mean the last time—I already thanked you and moreover, I didn’t ask you to do it, you know?” You watched his face changing into something more impish, the corners of his lips curled up as if everything was happening according to his plan. “You always decide for me…maybe it’s time to stop?”
Bateman chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to finally open your eyes?”
“Are you…really telling me this?!”
“You owe me a pretty big sum of money,” the man suddenly turned the conversation in another way. “And we had a deal…” Carefully, he trailed his finger along your cheek like an artist admiring his most precious creation. “Do you think I’d be so patient with your bad attitude to me if I were not really into you, hmm?”
The last words made you swallow hard and turned away for a moment, as you were on the verge of tears. Did he really just confirm that there was some kind of affection for you from his side?
“I…I know I owe a lot of money, but believe me, I’ll back them soon,” you removed his arms from your waist but the next second, Patrick placed them on the bathroom counter behind you from both sides, not allowing you to go away. “Please, believe me.”
“I don’t need that fucking money,” Patrick barked and unexpectedly gripped your shoulders, but when he noticed the glowing fear in your eyes, the man loosened his grasp and cupped your face. “I need you. Both your body and soul.”
Closing your eyes, you wanted to sink through the ground. “You want me to do things that you can’t buy with money…” you declared with a chilling coldness in your voice. “Other women are okay with being your toys, but I’m not. Now, let's finish this conversation, it won’t lead to anything.”
A tired sigh broke out from Bateman’s broad chest and for a second he even thought to let you go and turned over the page of the story of two broken souls, who met themselves so suddenly. Maybe now was that exact moment he was waiting so long, the moment to open the cards and confess, even though Patrick could hardly believe it would work.
"You don't seem to be listening to me at all," was all the man could say. "And that's not surprising, since no one really listens to me. Because...uhh...because no one really cares about what really bothers me…" He let you go and stepped back. "And you...I thought you were the only person who...who actually tried to understand me and act naturally."
"Patrick..."
He raised his hand in an eloquent gesture to let him continue. "You probably did it all because of the debt, but...I'll be honest, sometimes I made myself believe that you weren't acting like this just because of the money."
"Is this another manipulation?" You asked bluntly, holding back your tears. "How could I believe you after all the things you did to me? How many times did you treat me like a puppet that you no longer wanted to play with? And not to mention that you turned out to be engaged!" You grabbed your head and leaned against the bathroom counter, massaging your temples. "This is already too much."
The man huffed and cautiously approached you. With a soft, feathery movement, he touched your hands and pulled them away from your strained face. "At least you seem to care that I'm engaged," he said abruptly, moving you closer so that your head was now pressed against his massive chest. "I know it's overwhelming, (y/n). But..." the words suddenly stuck in his throat like a lump. "You're not alone in this." Patrick urged curly, running his large palm along the crown of your head before resting his chin on it, inhaling the scent of your soft hair.
‘Not alone’, you repeated inside your head and looked up into his brown eyes, which were now so stern and contemplative—you have never seen them like that before. This man, oh God, this man was such a mess, he was making you lose the ground beneath your feet with his sudden confessions, but in the end, actions spoke louder than words, even though you wanted to believe him and sink into the strong feeling you had towards him—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in him as you would burn out like a match.
All the while you were standing like that, Bateman was hoping you would say something in return, but when you didn’t, he just released you from his embrace without saying a thing. Overwhelmed by emotions, you left the bathroom and let him finish his hygienic routine in private.
A bit later, you didn’t even remember how you cooked a breakfast for both of you, the only thing you did remember was his positive comment that it tasted pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile, though your plate still stood untouched. Patrick noticed that, but didn’t make any comments about that.
“To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to be that nice,” he chuckled and finished his glass of mineral water that he didn’t really like. Quickly checking his Rolex, which he wore right after he took a shower, he added, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?”
“Sure.” You raised up and quickly strolled to the iron board where his suit and shirt were waiting to be presented to their owner. “Here, I ironed them for you.”
Bateman froze in shock for a moment. “You…ironed them?”
“Uh, yes, but I did it very carefully, I know everything you wear is utterly expensive,” you gave him his garments and he started to examine every thing with meticulous attention. “I…I thought you wouldn’t like to go outside in rumpled clothes.”
"That's… that's very sweet of you, Cupcake. Really…" he replied, his blush barely noticeable to anyone but you. "Thanks…thanks for everything."
“You’re welcome.” You murmured shyly, crossing your arms over the chest and watching him getting up from the table and walking to your bedroom to dress up.
Moments later, you both were standing in your small hallway, Patrick fixing his tie and coat, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
“How do I look?” He asked nonchalantly, putting on the headphones of his Walkman.
Slightly upset, you leaned against the wall, your eyes gliding up and down his elegant, tall silhouette; the way the dark blue trench coat sat on his broad shoulders made you almost gasp in admiration.
“Perfect as always,” you stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. “You’re like a Vogue cover which came alive.”
Fluttered, Bateman smiled and caught your hand to place a kiss on top of it. “And I always believe your compliments, they are so…sincere or…” he paused and looked into your eyes. “...or I’m just fooling myself.”
His usual chuckling now was less happy and it stirred something inside of you, so when you got up on your toes to kiss his cheek, Patrick took it like another chance to be intimate with you. With unhidden tenderness, the man pulled you into his arms to seal your mouths with a soft but passionate kiss which brought some unexpected relief for both of you.
“You know, I…I really appreciate your courage to be open with me,” you suddenly confessed when he broke the kiss, still holding you close. “It’s just that I need some time to think over things and…my life is such a mess.”
"Oh, you don't have to tell me that," Bateman sneered ironically to himself. "Since I know who made your life so messy," he stopped you from saying anything else by pressing his finger to your lips. Then the man slowly leaned down so that your foreheads now touched in the most intimate way. "Promise me you won't take those pills again."
"And you promise me you won't say things like no one gives a fuck about you," you gripped his arm, rubbing his firm bicep under the soft fabric of his coat. "Because I do give a fuck about you, even though I don't really like it."
"We'll talk about...us. That's the only promise I can make right now."
"Us?"
"You heard what I said," he pinched your nose, just like after the fashion show. "I'll call you today and Cupcake?" He leaned down to whisper in your ear, accidentally brushing his nose against your neck. "You're always on my mind, but I still haven't decided if it's good or not." The way he used your words to tease you brought a broad smile to your face, but the next time, all joy faded as the man stroked your cheek one last time before stepping aside to check himself in the mirror. "Hope to see you soon, darling."
With that he closed the door behind him and as much as you hated saying goodbye, you hated the moments like that, when you couldn’t control yourself as your emotions peaked, causing your knees to buckle and you stopped yourself from falling down only because you managed to lean on the nearby wall. The whole thing about your relationship with Bateman was one big mistake, as you would never find yourself belonging to this world—your meeting was a joke of fate—no less to say. Although you knew it, your heart was like a rebellion who refused to listen, to obey, to accept the truth that there were no chances to turn this situation in a way that would help these relationships to become healthy and normal. ‘Normal, huh? Do yuppies even know such a word?’ Laughing ironically to yourself, you got up and went back into your kitchen to wash the dishes. The sight of Patrick sitting here with a glass of water in his hand was still so fresh in your mind, but now you began to doubt if that really had happened.
All day later, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, waiting for his call but he never did it. It was not surprising after the shit that man had done, but today you were really hoping he would keep his word. But your hopes were broken to pieces again, in the most brutal possible way because you really decided to give it a try and believed him.
When the night came to New York City, you were standing in your living room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking about what would you do next and trying to think less about what Patrick was doing right now…and even less about with whom he probably could be. ‘...with Courtney or maybe with his fiance, Evelyn?’ You snickered sadly to yourself and finished your drink. Coffee was supposed to help you to keep awake but instead it only made you even more sleepy, so you didn’t even realize how you fell asleep on your little couch while putting down the notes of how today’s day had gone in your diary.
The next moment you were awakened by the sudden doorbell, which caught you off guard and even scared you a bit as you didn’t wait for anyone. Quickly enveloping your robe, you got up and saunted to the door to look at the peephole—you would lie to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting someone specific, but when you saw nothing but flowers, your heart skipped a beat.
With one swift motion, you opened the door and an unknown guy instantly greeted you with a polite tone. “Good morning, miss (y/n),” he then handed you a big bouquet of red and white roses—it was so heavy you could barely hold it. “Uh, can you please put your sign here?”
Confused, you pressed the flowers to your chest to see the man’s face. “Are you… are you sure it’s for me?”
The courier only smiled and giggled. “Of course, but you can check the address, if you want,” the man showed you the paper with the order details. “We make no mistakes, miss, that’s why our service is the best around New York.”
“I see,” you responded and put your signature on the place he pointed you. “But, can I ask you who sent me this?”
“There’s a card inside if I’m not mistaken,” the courier replied and with that he put the paper inside his bag. “Have a good day, ma'am.”
“Thanks.”
With that, you closed the door and somehow proceeded into your living room where you put the bouquet on the coffee table and began to look for the vase for it. When you managed to find it, you poured some water and placed the flowers into it, then you remembered the courier’s words about the card and the next second you were already leafing through the flowers. Soon, a small white card caught your attention and when you picked it out, the first thing you noticed was two beautiful letters—P.B. in the end of the text which said:
“Good morning, my sweet Cupcake,
I’m sorry I didn’t call you tonight, I was extremely busy and didn’t really have any free time, but I hope this little gift would cheer you up a bit. What do you think about going to a yacht club these weekends? I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Utterly yours, P.B.”
Your hands began to shake the moment you finished reading, but you managed to regain your composure. Driven by the unbridled happiness inside your chest, you leaned down to inhale the sweet scent of flowers—God, it felt like a dream. And speaking of dreaming—you were still so sleepy that after you finally calmed down, you decided to come back into the bed and nap a little bit longer. The sheets were still smelling of him, coaxing you to rub your face against the pillows and imagine him being here with you and somehow, you finally realized how deep this man was rooted inside your heart. ‘Utterly yours…’ You kept replaying these words inside your head until you drifted off to another dream, but this time, it was not a nightmare, but a heaven where Patrick was only yours, and you were his only one.
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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