#i'm part of this co-writing event and just
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#vent in tags#i'm part of this co-writing event and just#*inhales*#ooohh mmyyy fucking GOD#this past month has been nothing but a shit show filled with bad communication on both partners ends#i'm so fucking mad#i'm trying not to be but NNNNNNNNNNN#literally what the FUCK all i wanted was a little help plotting out a solution to something and they just#cop a fuckin attitude with me because it was *my* idea to do the thing#like#yeah thanks pal i know it was *my* idea#just because it was *my* idea doesn't mean i immediately know how to solve *my* idea#the whole point about this event is that we're supposed to be collaborative and to do that we should#oh i dunno#TALK ABOUT WHAT WE'RE DOING FOR THE STORY#the only thing this event has accomplished is making sure i'll never participate in it again jeez louise
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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.
Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.
If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.
This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.
As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:
"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."
"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."
"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."
"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."
"I must have been wrong."
This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:
"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"
"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."
"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"
Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.
You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.
The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:
Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.
A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.
Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.
Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.
The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:
Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.
Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.
Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.
Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.
Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)
Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)
I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.
I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".
('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)
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a stupid bet
gn!reader x Dr. Ratio
part two here
warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)
word count: 10k~
a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold
description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)
It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.
Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?
It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."
He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"
Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.
He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.
"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself
Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.
"You can't see it-" You mention.
He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."
"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.
He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”
In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.
His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.
Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.
He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.
You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet. As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.
The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.
After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.
He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”
"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.
He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”
"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.
He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”
"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.
“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”
"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.
A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.
“...I think we should still talk privately.”
You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."
He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.
He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.
"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.
He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”
"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"
You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”
You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"
That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.
You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"
Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”
"Why?"
You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”
You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.
That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.
You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"
He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”
"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"
A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”
He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"
You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-
He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.
He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.
“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”
„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“
He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."
"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.
He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."
"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.
Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.
He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”
You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."
He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.
„...Afraid?”
„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“
He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.
"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.
He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”
Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.
You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.
It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.
He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.
"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"
He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.
"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.
He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”
You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“
He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”
"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.
His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”
„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.
He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.
“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”
„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“
He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”
„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.
He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”
He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.
„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“
He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”
You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“
He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”
„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.
“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”
„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.
And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.
After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.
His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.
When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.
He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.
Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate
You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.
And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.
It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...
You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.
Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.
„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.
His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”
„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“
He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”
„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“
“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.
„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.
“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”
„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.
His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”
„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.
He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”
You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“
He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.
„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.
“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”
„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“
He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”
„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.
Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...
You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.
Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.
You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.
Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.
Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.
In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.
Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.
It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.
It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.
People pass by, and you don't say anything.
Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.
You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.
There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.
He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.
„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse
He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.
When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“
Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.
You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.
He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"
„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.
He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well. "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"
„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.
He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"
You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“
His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.
You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.
He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.
„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.
He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"
„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.
That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.
„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“
He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"
„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“
A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."
„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“
He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."
His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.
You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“
He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"
„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.
Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."
„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.
His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."
You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.
He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...
He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."
„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.
His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“
„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“
"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."
You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“
The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."
You meet his eyes „What is it?“
He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."
„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.
He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."
„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“
His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."
You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.
The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.
It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.
All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."
„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“
"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."
You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.
He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."
You look up at him „Veritas...“
He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"
You just sigh softly.
He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.
„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."
„Too long yes...“
He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“
„Oh trust, they have noticed“
He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."
„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“
He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."
You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“
His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."
„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.
He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."
You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.
He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.
„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...
„Veritas-„ you speak his name.
Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...
You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.
The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.
Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.
He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.
You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.
The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.
He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."
„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.
He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"
You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“
He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."
You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„
He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."
„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.
Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.
You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."
You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.
He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."
„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.
"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"
„Veritas“ you warn sternly.
He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"
„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“ Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.
That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."
„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.
He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.
You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.
He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.
"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“
You say simply. „5“
His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"
You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.
„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.
He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."
You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“
"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.
„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.
He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.
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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!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines
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Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs
Anything you read in these masterlists won���t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.
NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!
Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)
Daddy kink
Enemies to lovers
Summer vibes & party fics
Personal faves from my own writings
Other blogs I love
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@1d1195
One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.
@a-strange-familiar
Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.
@adorebeaa
One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…
@awideworldoffanfics
Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.
@be-with-me-so-happily
Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)
Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...
One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.
Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.
@bopbopstyles
Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)
@fkinavocado
Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)
Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)
One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs
@freedomfireflies
Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.
Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!
@goldenbuckyyy
Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)
@harryistheonlyoneforme
One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)
@harrywritingsbyme
Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT
@helladirections
Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.
One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.
One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together?
@itslottiehere
One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.
@jawllines
Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)
Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)
Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)
Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry
Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)
@jarofstyles
King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry
Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry
Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.
@lemoncrushh
Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II
One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II
@lukesaprince
Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)
Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)
Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).
Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.
@moonchildstyles
Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry
Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry
Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry
Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry
@0oolookitsme
One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy.
One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n
@0nlythrowharrybeaux
Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.
Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.
@pleasingforharry
Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.
@purplekiwis
Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.
In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…
One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)
@s-brant
Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.
One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.
@stylesloveclub
Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy.
@swiftmendeshoran
Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader
@watchmegetobsessed
Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.
Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.
Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader
@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)
One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader
@zayndrivesmeinvain
Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry
i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!
Wattpad
1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)
Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.
_miiki
Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.
Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly
Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them
ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom
Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.
Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)
Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?
Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty
Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.
MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)
Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark
Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?
Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"
Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)
Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.
Petit_cerise
Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.
Sunflowersnstuff
Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.
ThousandYearsOfHope
Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?
Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.
Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)
Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."
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Hi, happy to see you back❤. I remember in one of your previous works, you mentioned Mammon possibly would babytrap reader. May you please write something on this topic?
♡ Toxic!Mammon: Babytrapping Hcs ♡
Note: Ty! Also she is referring to this post. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS!!! KEEP THEM COMING POOKIES! ALSO IK I HAVENT MADE AN ACTUAL POST IN A WHILE SO HERE YALL GO
Female!reader, AFAB
Warnings: NSFW, toxic themes, creampie, future child, exploiting
He will babytrap you, 100%
As I have said before, Mammon likes the idea of having complete control over you, your life, and everything you do. And what better of a way to do that than making you bear his child?
He gets this magical, invasive idea when talking to one of his work buddies. He was talking about how annoying you were, even though he cannot live without you, when his co-worker mentions how much responsibility and care a woman has for her children. And the idea hits him. If you are just going to sit around lazily all day like a spoiled brat, why not add a child into the mix?
So he will have you prowled up against his chest, his cock basically stuffing you full, as he pistons in and out of your already sore pussy. Seemingly out of nowhere, telling you
"You'd be such a good mother, wouldn't you babe."
"'Wanna see you swoll with my kids, wouldn't that be somethin'-"
Which makes you feel physically ill. Raising a child with Mamm would be basically impossible. You would never raise a child with this man. Would he support you? Would he genuinley care for your baby? Oh Satan, would he even care-
Your thoughts are abrupted as Mammon stuffs you with his seed, finishing inside yours walls and painting them with a loud groan. He gives your ass a harsh slap, as he watches his cum spilling out of you. He looks you in the eyes, and gives you a daunty chuckle. He forces you to look up at him with your tired, exhausted eyes, as he tells you ohoho babe, we aren't finished until i'm done, alright?.
And he keeps that promise, with the goal of getting you pregnant. He knows the public would go feral. The King of Greed? With a child? It gives him a publicity boost, which in turn, is good for his business, and his image.
Once you find out you are pregnant, you have to eventually tell Mammon, to your dismay. Every day, he makes you take an on brand pregnancy test as he watches. He will hold the test while you pee. Yes you heard me right. So when the test says positive one day, he is over the moon. Not at the fact that he is going to be a father, but at the fact that he is now in complete control over you, and that he can use another part of you as a pawn in his twisted fantasy.
The paparazzi have a field day over this news, because he ends up almost immediately making an announcement. There are headlines, candid photos of you going forcefully outside by mammon, etc. Its like a never ending nightmare. And dont be mistaken, he would never let you out of his sights, or get an abortion. He thinks this is too good of an opportunity.
Behind closed doors, he will actually treat you very well. Feeding you, paying attention to your every need, and not letting you lift a finger. He may even go out of his way to find some stuff by himself at the store. He'll will make you go outside with him. But at times he has to do a meeting, or host an event, he will have his goons escort you places, making sure you go public routes, to get a really good look at your swollen belly.
Brings you to meetings during this time, and picking your outfits carefully. He cant have his darling wearing any disgusting maternity clothes. So he will have you perches on his lap while he sits in his seat, embarrassment eating you whole as you see the sins/overlords snickering and bickering presumably at you. He has one hand rubbing your round belly, and one hand rubbing your shoulders as Mammon discusses his newest buisness plan.
He would create a Mammon Baby Care line. He knows he will profit off your pregnancy
"Alright fellas, so i was thinking for the ladys, a Mammon breast pump, hm? Its great right? Oh! And Mammon themed bibs, ha! Sure to make me a bunch, right babes?"
People think, how could you let Mammon knock you up? Of course, millions of girls idolize Mammon, and would want to be with him. But sometimes it feels like you are the only one who is infatuated with him. So you will try to look past the fact that he got you pregnant. You'll just try to be hopeful. But it is literally impossible with the way he keeps sweet talking you, as you snap back into the sad reality that you will be having Mammons child, and raising it. No questions to be asked.
He will lead you to subconsciously feel insecure about you and your body. He will squeeze your newly chubby cheeks, glaze his fingers over your stretch marks newly littering your body, etc. And he definitely does that on purpose.
As you reach up to the half full Nutella jar in the high cabinet in the kitchen, you hear a pair of loud footsteps coming behind you. Its Mammon. You try your best to ignore him, but you cant help but feel uneasy when you feel a pair of familiar eyes on you. It is currently 1:30 AM, and he is in a really tired mood.
"You need help sweets?"
He said with a suckle voice, knowing its affects on you are vast. He looks you up and down, admiring your perfect body in his mind. Your curves, belly, and the look your giving him. It makes him want to just bend you over and fuck your brains out likes theres no tomorrow. But he cant, he just has to be extra agile with you.
"Mamm..."
"Yeah?"
"Do I look fat?"
Ohhh boy. The question you always ask when you feel like he's eyeing you up. he hates when you ask that, because then he has to make up some half assed excuse to why he's looking at you a certain way. When your pregnant, he basically has to walk on eggshells around you.
"You... look like your carrying my child, and I like the sight of that."
"Okay, do you love me?"
He pauses. One wrong answer, and you'll refuse to talk to him for weeks. You two, as of your relationship, are in a really good spot right now. You will basically do anything for him. But you are really sensitive emotionally and physically, due to your hormones.
As he walks up behind you, he lifts you up by your waist, and hold you up to the cabinet, letting you reach.
"Y/N."
He says in a low, gruff voice.
"Yeah Mamm?"
"What the hell kind of question is that. Of course I love you."
He says as you look at him, face to face. You watch his eyes never leave yours, which makes you break off eye contact in a flustered state. You then realize that he is holding you, which makes you feel insecure.
"Okay, I love you too Mamm"
"Alright, now get your sweet treat, and get the fuck to bed, and hurry up. We've got a busy day tomorrow sweets."
He sets you down, and leaves the kitchen, leaving you with yourself, your Nutella and a spoon in hand. You look down at yourself, and your huge stomach. You wonder how you got yourself into this twisted predicament. You mostly worry about your baby's future as Mammons child. Because you are aware that Mammon will only use them for his own monetary gain. You cannot escape this man, even if you try. But you can always pretend you have your own free will, and you could always just eat your silly thoughts away, as Mammon always told you.
#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#mammon x reader#mammon x reader hb#hb mammon x reader#mammon x y/n#mammon#adam x reader#mammon hb#alastor x reader#mammon x you#helluva#hb#hb x reader#helluva boss x reader#helluva boss hcs#mammon x you hb#mammon headcannons#mammon sin#mammon smut#mammon fluff helluva
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Incubus yoongi x reader
Go wild with smut maybe theres fluff and angst too! Love your writing so much
☾ Pairing: Incubus!Yoongi x archdevil!Reader
☾ Summary:
Sunder (sun·der) transitive verb
: to break apart or in two
: to separate by or as if by violence or by intervening time or space
Sunder (sun·der) intransitive verb
: to become parted, disunited, or severed
☾ Word Count: 5,297
☾ Genre: Smut, Forbidden Romance, Angst, Fated Lovers
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Vague worldbuilding - this takes place in a Hell setting so.. Lots of talk of literal hell, implied violence and war, themes of classism/species racism, hint of political scheming, depiction of servants who are chained/collared, implications of sex work/incubi being bread specifically for sex work, honestly Yoongi and reader kinda give co-dependant vibes, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, a little bit of overstim, cum eating if you squitn, multiple orgasms, bleeding/scratching/biting, possessive themes… um I don’t know the smut scene is more PrOsEy than straight-up smut.
☾ Published: Sunday, April 7 2024
☾ A/N: We are using Forgotten Realms (dnd) lore because I was randomly inspired to do so. You need zero knowledge of Forgotten Realms or dnd lore to read this - there is vague world building and references to a plot on the side that I imagine Yoongi and reader are a part of but that does not happen in this little one shot. I just did it for the tension and because I’m out of control. 100% change I got some dnd lore wrong - don’t care, I kinda made it my own in parts as needed!!! Thank you!!!
☾ A/N 2: Dear anon, I don’t have a clue what this is, but it was inspired by a very specific scene in the movie Troy when Paris (Orlando Bloom) sneaks up to Helen’s (Diane Kruger) room while the Greeks and Trojans are downstairs partying and he’s like hehe let’s bang it out. That’s it. I really hope you like this because sometimes I fill requests and I'm like ..... that probably was not what they had in mind and yet here I am, delivering whatever ??? this is ??
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Main Masterlist ☾Filled Requests ☾ Masterlist Milestone Request Event ☾ Ask
Note: I don't use my tag list for requests!
A pair of dark eyes in the shadows around the party catches your attention as you listen to Archdevil Belial's drone about his victory in Phlegethos. The fiend’s words fall on deaf ears as your gaze narrows to a deadly point on the man lingering in the shadows across the room, keeping away from the revelry with a single chalice in his hand.
And he’s staring at you.
You feel your muscles constrict as you flick your gaze away, your heart rate picking up speed as you try and focus on Belial again. It isn’t a story you care to hear about - he’s been droning about his defeat of the Kelemvor worshipers on the fiery planes of Phlegethos. Hardly a battle as much as a skirmish outside of the city gates that demanded his attention.
Archdevil Belial is none the wiser that the creature he really desires to kill is lurking at the edge of the party, burning eyes on you as he cocks his head and glances toward the empty staircase that leads toward the living quarters.
There’s a twitch of irritation in your stomach as Yoongi turns and vanishes into the shadows. He is good at being seen only when he wants to, which works in his favor when he enters the hall of his greatest enemies, all in one room because of war meetings against the very fiend who now slips upstairs to your bedroom.
It was only a matter of time before Yoongi showed up - despite the level of stupidity it takes to show up in the hall of your sworn enemy. Yoongi likes to show off though. He likes to remind his enemies - and himself - that he is not so easily kept out of places that he wants to be.
Especially if those places he’s being kept from have you inside of them.
“Thank you for the conversation, Lord Belial,” you interrupt. The devil looks at you with his mouth open, eyes blazing as you interrupt him to dismiss yourself. You feel a small twist of satisfaction. “I must retire for the evening. I am returning home tomorrow before starting my campaign through the realms to ensure my father’s army are being… led properly.”
Belial’s face twitches in irritation. You’re above his station - though not too far - and decorum is everything in matters of spoken insult. “Yes,” he agrees. “It is important for our… figureheads to inspire. The Whip of Asmodeus paints a threatening picture, to be sure. It is hard to be of influence on the battlefield - we do appreciate your efforts off the field.”
A laugh like cutting glass bubbles from your lips. “You honor me.” You feel the ice in your mouth when you dip your head politely, pretending to be unbothered by the implication that you’re nothing but an empty threat. “I will see you in a tenday, Lord Belial, when I come to inspire in Phlegethos.”
With a curt turn, you cut through the party toward the stone dias. Those in attendance part for you like water parting around a sharp boulder, hurrying to get out of your way. Figurehead or real threat doesn’t matter - you’re the daughter of their lord and by rights their lady.
Your father sits on his throne of twisted bone and fire ahead of the party, crimson eyes drinking in all that happens from his seat of power. Yet he has missed something incredibly important that now lingers upstairs waiting for you. The thought makes your lips twitch in a smirk as you ascend the stairs to where Asmodeus sits, a giddy tingle in your belly.
A beautiful incubus boy sits next to the throne on the floor, a gold collar around his neck with a glittering chain that leads to Asdmodeous’ hand. The incubus looks at your father with adoration, gold eyes burning. Mouth agape. Breath catching.
You don’t know how much of it is performance. It’s always hard to tell with the lower level fiends what is real and what is an act. It’s part of the dangerous game they play, and thought you’re more accustomed to their kind - especially the one lurking in your room - you’re still unsure how to tell the difference with this one.
You catch the scent of honey and vanilla as you step nearer, though the incubus doesn’t look at you. You immediately feel the ebbing power of allure from the creature, battering your senses just being so close. Asmodeus seems unaffected by the battering power of lust radiating from the incubus, but you see the two guards behind him glance toward the creature on the floor.
You grit your teeth and ignore the twist in your gut, trying not to be irritated. Only one man has power over you this way. It isn’t the incubus’ fault that he’s doing what he was trained to do, but the sudden pitch in your stomach and dizziness you feel around him unsettles you.
“I am returning to my chambers, Father,” you murmur, bowing deeply. “I have grown wear of Belial’s peacocking.”
Behind him are two massive Orthons, no less than eight feet in height and wide like a troll. Their horns are curling and battle-scarred, ugly tusks showing from thick, fat lips. The beasts are hellish weapons from wars passed, now assigned to the personal guard of your father. You note that they also did not notice the shadowy incubus slipping into their party and up the stairwell.
It almost makes you tsk. Even for a creature as skilled and powerful as Yoongi, slipping past an entire party full of the most powerful infernals in the realms is impressive. He is, of course, more than just an incubus now, but still. The sheer magnitude of doing it successfully is not lost on you - and makes you worried for his sanity.
“Sleep well,” Admodeous voice rumbles, his voice like stones grinding together. “Tomorrow, you return to Malbolge and ready to set out on your campaign.” His fiery eyes turn to you and you feel the weight of the burning Nine Hells press against you. “They will feel the crack of the Whip of Asmodeous and know that we are mighty.
“It will be done.”
“She is as pretty as My Lord is,” the incubus boy purrs from where he sits at the foot of the throne. You glance at him, realizing that his golden gaze has broken away from your father and turned to you. Your stomach twists in equal parts anger, guilt, and disgust as you feel the lick of his power. “The House of Asmodeus is as beautiful as they are powerful.”
Again, it’s hard to discern if the incubus is performing or if he means it. Asmodeus pulls the chain hard, yanking incubus toward him. You hear his neck pop, though it doesn’t break as the creature wimpers at the sudden show of violence. “Do not speak to her, worm. You are nothing. She is the Heir Apparent and Princess of the Nine Hells. You are fodder.”
The incubus cowers, and ducks his head away from you, curling in on himself. The sensual allure to him lessens distinctly, the energy souring. You feel your fingers twitch as you think of Yoongi. It is not difficult to guess that Asmodeous’ newfound desire to humiliate and dissipate incubi and succubi are inspired by his hatred and inability to rid himself of Yoongi’s stain.
Swallowing thickly, you bow once more, slipping backward off the dias and toward the stairs that lead upward. No one guards them - there are supposed to be no enemies at this party - and shadow falls over them, the torches flickering as though watching you ascend.
Music and voices follow you up the stairs, the soft click of your shoes against the carved stone louder in the growing silence as you navigate to your bedrooms. The staircase winds and the sounds drift further away from you until it’s only the crackling of occasional sconces and your steps.
Two heavy doors in the west wing of the Citadel belong to your bedroom. The crackling energy of the arcana buzzing along them acting as a lock makes your skin tingle. You mutter the password and feel the pop of magic as it vanishes, allowing you to push heavily against one of the doors to grind it open.
The room is both yours and not. It was your room for most of your life growing up under the ruler of the Nine Hells, opulent and dark, full of old possessions and heavy, draping curtains to keep out the smoke and ruin, rich art painted by careful hands with red and purple splashed across canvas.
Now, it feels like a room that belonged to someone else entirely. You’re no longer the vicious little thing that thought would sit on the throne in Nessus one day. You’re no longer the unthinking weapon that Asmodeous uses to maintain order and public punishment.
A large bed stands on a lifted dais, covered in silks and piled high with pillows. They lay undisturbed as you close the door behind you and mutter the password again, feeling the static of magic seal them shut behind you. It would take a small army to batter through them, thankfully.
Your eyes scour the room. Embers burn in a smoldering fireplace, offering little light in the dimness of the bedroom. A large sitting area stretches to the right with leather chairs and velvet chaises, tables covered in untouched books and scrolls.
To the left is an open study, a heavy wooden desk in the middle of the room backed with bookshelf-covered walls and heavy chests locked with tombs inside. You see the cover of a journal flipped open, the only sign that Yoongi had been lingering in your study snooping.
Your mouth twitches at the corner as you look away from it. Yoongi leaving something out of place is only ever on purpose, a confirmation to you that yes - his visit has double meaning. You might be the primary reason the incubus and favored chosen warrior of a death god has snuck into his enemy’s home, but you’re not the only reason. Of course he is looking for any extra information he can use against his enemies.
It stings a little more than you’d like.
Stepping further into the room, you swivel your gaze back and forth, looking for a sign of the slippery man himself. A master of shadows, Yoongi is only seen when he wants to be. Strange, for a fiend whose very nature is to be seen and devoured, to give and to receive, to lure and enjoy. Most of his life has been spent in spectacle, and now he spends it in the shadows.
Warm breath brushes against the back of your neck, making your skin prickle. “I like this dress.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Yoongi’s callused fingers brush up your arm. It’s a ghost of touch but it makes your eyelids flutter shut, warmth thrumming in your stomach immediately. Unlike the incubus downstairs, you don’t feel a magnetic pull that is arcane here. You just feel the pull to Yoongi - a desire that is your own and fueled by nothing else.
He has no reason to use his charm here. It makes you shiver as you lean backward into him, eager to feel the solidness of his chest and smell the sweet wine on his breath.
“You always say that,” he purrs, the words low and scratchy. His other hand comes up to brush his fingers up and down your other arm, pulling you toward him full. You melt, fading into him faster than you should. “When will you learn that I will go wherever you are?”
“Even if it means your own demise? You’re in the Citadel of Asmodeus.”
“He’s killed me before.” Yoongi’s touch is more solid now, hands exploring your waist and curves, squeezing your flesh, pressing you against his waist. You rest the back of your head against his neck, inhaling cedarwood and sage. “I’m not so easily destroyed.”
“Don’t.”
You don’t want to recall the many times Yoongi has been wrenched away from you. Each time a little closer to permanence than the last. Time and time again, he has been ripped from your hands as your father attempts to destroy the fate linking you, to burn it until there is no tether there.
“You’ve been good,” Yoongi notes. His hand goes to the silk strings on the side of your dress, pulling them undone. “He truly thinks you no longer think of me? That he has succeeded where he has failed a dozen times before?”
“Yes.”
“His arrogance knows no bounds. He’ll think he’s a god, soon enough.”
You turn your head to the side, brushing your mouth against Yoongi’s. His lips are warm and taste of wine, urging your tongue to swipe across his bottom lip for a taste. “Is he not?” you ask against his mouth, fighting the need to shiver as one side of your dress falls open. “He rules the Nine Hells absolutely.”
“Oh come off it,” He laughs. “You and I both know that isn’t true, otherwise he wouldn’t be in a civil war. Plus… I have recently acquired Avernus and Dis.”
You straighten and turn around sharply to look at him, brows furrowing. For a moment, you forget what it is he’s said to shock you. You’re hypnotized by eyes dark enough that they reflect the stars when in the mortal world, a mouth that is soft and sensuous, a gentle, round nose that is opposed to the way he can turn it up at someone in a sneer. A faded scar over one eye - one of many that he's received over the years.
Yoongi is beautiful the way the moon is, distant and cold, but with a glow of softness that is often underestimated.
You had made that mistake before. A long time ago, incubi and the lower creatures of the Nine Hells hadn’t been a blip on your radar. They were nothing to a princess of the Nine Hells, someone whose entire purpose for existing would be to one day step into ruling over all nine of the realms crushed in your father’s fist.
Now, you know better. You’d been a silly, arrogant girl then, head filled with dreams of ruling over the dread cities and bringing the dukes and duchesses to heel. You’d never considered that perhaps your existence was more for appearances and leverage than anything else.
A puppet.
Belial, was, unfortunately, quite right about that.
“What do you mean you have Avernus and Dis?”
“The skirmish in Phlegethos was a distraction. The dukes and duchess’ have been so frenzied about making sure they don’t have any disruptions in their rule that Belial scrambled to deal with his, turning his eye away from the others. Mammon… well you know Mammon. He is not a concern, for now. He cares little who holds Avernus and Dis.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I had help with Dis.”
That sours your stomach. “Bel.”
“He has no love for Zariel. And he’s from Dis.”
“He’s a traitor. You’d do well not to trust him. Who knows when he’ll turn on you if promised something.”
“The Nine Hells are full of traitors.” Yoongi’s deft fingers undo the other side of your dress. “Including me. You think I would not sell out every single one of my fighters for you, hmm?” Yoongi presses a wet kiss to your jaw. You lean your head back to give him access to your throat. “You think I wouldn’t throw away being Kelemvor’s chosen and carrying his mantle for a chance to have you forever?”
“You do have me.”
“Not in the way we are designed.” His voice is a growl as he bites at your throat, teeth scraping. You feel dizzy in his arms, but he holds you steadfast. “You were designed for me by the wheels of fate, and I for you. All of this - war, death, political scheming - it stands in our way and I would betray the god who gives me my many lives to cut to the chase in an instant.”
The rage-laced words are an anger you’re familiar with. Two creatures born to exist for one another - more than fated mates. Your very existence tied to Yoongi’s is a matter of universal balance, two threads of fabric that must remain woven together, lest the realms collapse.
Divine Scales. Two lives bound together that must remain in balance for the rest of the world to exist. You and Yoongi are not the only Divine Scales in the realms, but you’re perhaps one of the most difficult to balance in a world set on keeping you apart.
You, the daughter of the Archduke of the Nine Hells. Yoongi, an incubus servant whose purpose was to lure, steal, and spy on behalf of Asmodeus. It was an unfit match that your father was set on destroying - his daughter an heir would not be tied to a lowly creature of lust and servitude.
“Careful,” you murmur as Yoongi peels the fabric from your skin. The air is warm but you feel a shiver anyway, nipples pebbling at the temperature change. “Your god might not like to hear you say such things.”
“He is not my god,” Yoongi mutters. His eyes are hungry, burning with desire as he drinks you in, his fingers gripping the flesh at your hips. “He is a convenience. I need power to take control of the Nine Hells, he gives me power. You are the only being I worship. The only goddess I recognize.” Yoongi sinks to his knees and your stomach flips. He looks up at you, lips parted and pupils blown, eyes so dark you could spill into them and never find your way. “Let me prove my devotion. Let me worship the only divinity I’ve ever known.”
Yoongi’s words are a spell on you, and not because he’s in an incubus, created and bred to be alluring and lead mortals to the Hells to give up their souls. Yoongi’s words have power because he is Yoongi, a being who he designed to be your other half. Another being you love so entirely that you intend to sacrifice the realm you call home, that you actively betray the people you’ve known since you were a child in order to be with him.
These snatches with him are so few and far between. He fights a war against your father and his archdevils while you unravel them from the inside. Two knives carving away at the system which fights to keep you apart.
You forget about all of the atrocities committed and to come. You push away the anxiety that Yoongi is thwarting his power by coming to the seat of his enemy’s power, just because he can and because he wants you.
Instead, you focus on the way his mouth leaves wet kisses across your thighs. Yoongi’s fingers press into the back of your legs, holding you to him as his tongue lavs at a small scar on your hip, his teeth nipping the flesh.
Your world falls away as his tongue and mouth suck at your skin. Heat gathers between your legs, feeling the wet ache in your folds as Yoongi purposefully avoids going toward the apex of your thighs, instead showering your inner thighs, calves, and hips with soft kisses.
Strong hands pry your legs apart. You let him slide your foot over, widening your stance easily. You cannot recall a single person you have ever been pliable for. You are the Whip of Asmodeous, a sharp weapon made to force subservience and delve out punishment.
You are no whip in Yoongi’s hands. You are silk, sliding through his fingers as his mouth presses closer and closer to your heart. To everyone else, you are a weapon. To Yoongi, you’re just you. A mind to adore, a body to worship.
Your knees threaten to buckle when the first, slow swipe of his tongue runs up your drenched folds. Yoongi chuckles, the sound throaty. Gently, he lifts a leg and pulls it over his shoulder, providing a counterweight as you stand but also giving him access to your aching cunt, pressing his face close as he licks you from hole to throbbing clit again.
“Yoongi,” you whisper, a hand shooting to his hair. Your fingers slide through soft, silk strands and twist, rooting him there. He groans in appreciation, focusing his tongue on slow, up-and-down licks, avoiding your clit as he works. “Fuck.”
He hums, the feeling buzzing through your pussy as he closes his mouth over it, sucking gently. His mouth is wet and warm, tongue soft as it circles your aching bundle of nerves. Your legs feel gummy as you waver, holding onto him to keep yourself standing as much as you are to keep him in place.
Yoongi’s hunger can rarely be sated. He devours you, mouth eager as he sucks and licks at you, lips smacking loudly as he does. You barely register the obscene noise, canting your hips up into his mouth as the pleasure begins to build slowly.
A hand presses into your ass, pressing you harder against the flat of his tongue. Yoongi opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, looking up at you with fucked out eyes as he urges you to fuck his face at your pace, to use him like a god would use a conduit.
Yoongi is your conduit, and you are his. You vowed centuries ago to be his whip, a weapon at his command. He vowed to be your shield, your knife in the dark.
The powers of the Hells would keep you apart. Beyond the impropriety that someone so lowborn could be fated for one of the highest powers among the infernals, the two of you together are too much of a threat. Too much power tied to one another, a divine match that cannot be broken.
Still, they try.
The two of you have died before. Keeping you dead isn’t easy, though. Neither can truly die while the other lives and no one has quite managed to kill you both simultaneously - a familial crutch that Asmodeus cannot seem to overcome.
You’d die every day to have this moment with Yoongi, your breath caught in your lungs, sweat beading on the small of your back, head tilted back as your heart beats so loud it's all you can hear. You feel every part of your body coil before there is a moment of white noise as your orgasm crests over, your cunt squeezing, your hand pulling his hair.
Yoongi drinks you in like he cannot get enough. Gluttonous, ravenous man, pressing into your heat as he sucks. Your hands tug at his hair, the stimulation going from warm and fluid to sharp and biting. He grows a little when you pull his face back by the strands of his hair, a picture of madness with the lower half of his face covered in your slick, lips red and swollen, eyes unfocused.
You pull and he stands, knocking you back as he does. You stumble the remaining footsteps to your bed, mouths connecting in a tangle of teeth, tongue, spit and cum. You taste yourself on him, sucking his tongue greedily into his mouth as your hands claw at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
He complies, letting you push the shirt off his shoulders as he climbs over you, pressing a knee between your legs as he traps your lips in a searing kiss again. Your lips feel bruised where you kiss, his mouth demanding. His hands claw at your hips, pulling you down into his knee, grinding your slick cunt against his leg.
You let out a breathy sound, both from the feeling of pleasure blooming between your legs once again and the warmth of his skin, your hands rubbing across his chest, seeking to chase the inferno within. Yoongi has always been warm, but something hotter burns in him now. Something divine, vicious, and powerful lurking beneath his skin, the unlikely power of a god of death lurking just beneath the surface.
You know that Kelemvor, the God of Death and Lord of Judgement has chosen Yoongi as a conduit of power because Yoongi seeks the balance of the world - he is a part of the balance of the world. His very existence is paramount to a deity whose very nature is to maintain the scales.
It doesn’t stop you from wanting to eat away at the divinity under Yoongi’s skin, to drive out the influence that isn’t yours, to assert your dominance over a god and remind him that Yoongi does not belong to Kelemvor, he is not an extension of death. He belongs to you and you alone.
It is an irrational, violent bout of jealousy that overtakes you for a moment. Your nails rake down his chest a little too hard, leaving trails of blood beneath. You bit his bottom lip a little too hard, the taste of iron and salt spilling into your mouth with his tongue.
Yoongi smirks against your scarlet mouth, pulling back to look down at you. He knows what it is you seek. Yoongi always knows. Your minds are not connected, but your souls are and there is little you can hide from him. “You cannot rip him out of me, no matter how much you want to.”
“I will try.”
“Good.” He leans down and bites hard on your collarbone, making you gasp. “I will tear Asmodeous’ influence from you in kind.”
Your hands are less harsh as you undo the laces of his pants, pulling them down powerful thighs. Your viciousness cools in the shower of the whisper of his love against your ear and the scrap of his tongue against your skin. Every single part of you burns hotter than the deepest part of the Hells, driven there by him alone.
You love him - such a simple word could convey it accurately, anyway.
It seems too small of a word, unable to fit the fountain of want, desire, trust, and yearning that spills out of you into such a small cup. You don’t know if love can truly hold everything you feel for him, if it conveys that there is nothing god, archdevil, or fate that would stop you from being here with Yoongi, getting to touch him, to taste him, to whisper into his mouth as he presses the head of his cock into your weeping entrance.
“You’re mine,” you gasp, rolling your hips forward to meet the slow, powerful strokes of his cock. Yoongi cradles you to him, his hands gripping you tighter as he presses your bodies together, as though you could meld. “Mine mine mine.”
“I’m yours,” he agrees, voice throaty and strained. “Who else could I belong to?”
You have no answer. Stars dance behind your eyelids as you move to his rhythm. Yoongi’s skin is heated and sticky as he moves against you. You feel his heartbeat in exact time with yours, twin rhythms. Your arms wind around his shoulders, fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel the muscle of his back and shoulder flex as he fucks you slowly, each stroke pointed and driving you to the edge again.
Yoongi’s mouth brushes yours. You breathe in his air, unable to put anything else into words, thoughts consumed with him. With how he tastes, with how he smells, with how he feels. Nestled in the deepest part of you, you feel home. It is such a rare feeling, only discovered here like this, connected.
It makes your breath catch, barely audible above Yoongi’s low groaning and the loud smack of skin against skin. Your heels dig into the bed, head pressing into the mattress as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but take what Yoongi is giving you.
His pace quickens, slamming into your cunt with enough force to break you. But you do not break - you could never break with him. You squirm in his hold, babbling and panting and trying to breathe as he drives you to the edge of madness - and then you peak.
A wild sound escapes you as you seize into him, muscles clenching, cunt spasming. Yoongi’s thrusts turn vicious, fucking you through your orgasm as you clench down on him with a vice grip. His fingers grip the back of your neck, pulling you toward his chest as he leans backward, your legs sliding as he seats you in his lap, fucking up into you.
“Imagine thinking they could take you away from me,” Yoongi hisses. His thrusts are sloppy and hard, spearing you and sending you hurtling right toward the edge again. You submit to him, head lolling to the side as he takes you. “Imagine thinking that you could defy a prewritten fate that you are mine, that you are anything less than what was made for me.”
A sob slips through your lips. You cannot think of a response, only able to cling to him as though to say yes.
“They cannot take you away from me,” he growls. “I will destroy this world again and again if they try. They cannot sunder what is here, they cannot rip you away from me any more than you can rip the stars from the sky.”
Just as you begin to teeter on the edge, Yoongi slams his hips home, clenching as he comes. “You cannot be anything else but mine.”
It sends you hurling over the edge again, so powerful that you forget where you are for a moment. It is intoxicating, this bliss that unfurls like the flowers of a petal. Nothing exists here but calm water and the scent and taste of Yoongi. There is no war here. No fight to keep you apart. No demands, no expectations. It’s just you and him. Like it was always meant to be.
Slowly, awareness creeps back toward you. It is a lumbering, lazy thing. You only feel somewhat aware that you’re in a bed and that you feel the heat of Yoongi next to you, the press of his mouth against your shoulder. The aftereffects of sleeping with an incubus are not lost on you, even as a powerful infernal.
Everything feels melted, like it could fall through your fingers like grains of sand. Perhaps you could float away if you tried, but Yoongi grounds you. The feeling of his hand on your hip and his mouth on your skin is the most solid thing that exists in this world in between, keeping you tethered to something real. Something substantial.
When you blink away the sticky high of the post-orgasm daze, Yoongi is watching you with soft, round eyes. The burning desire is still there, but at the forefront is adoration. Worship. Love. Anything stronger than words can describe.
“Are you okay?” he kisses your jaw before drawing back to examine your face. You nod, head heavy. “Too much?”
“No. Not with you. Never with you.”
His mouth twitches like he’s unsure. You nestle closer to him, closing your eyes as you’re cupped in the safety of his presence. “With Avernus and Dis at your command, you can take Phlegethos,” you murmur. “Mammon will give you Minauros if you can do that.”
“Hmm.”
Your eyes flutter open, watching as Yoongi closes his. You can tell by the twitch in his mouth that he is thinking. “I will deliver you Phlegethos.” He cracks an eye open and looks at you, seeing the hunger that burns there. “Belial needs a good whip to put him in place.”
“The Whip of Asmodeous?”
“No.” You grin. “The Whip of Kelemvor’s Chosen.”
#yoongi smut#suga smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#bts suga#bts fanfic#minors do not interact#minors dni#bts suga smut#i forgot how to tag at this point its been so long#also raise ur hand if you cannot pronounce phlegethos
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IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 01
01 | SPARKS FLY
previous | next | masterfile
SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)
A/N. this chapter is more like world building (it's where i explain what the fuck i'm doing with the YN okay)
The "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" series at Disney+ has added an unexpected pick to its growing cast.
The new live-action series is based on the hugely successful novels from author Rick Riordan of the same title. We will be seeing YN LN join the series as Rina Velasco, one of the supporting characters of the show.
LN's Rina Velasco is referred to as "the offspring of The Muses, goddesses of the sciences and the arts." Unlike most other demigods, she is born out of the artistic and scientific output of the muses. When the moral ingenuity of humans meets the divine musings of The Muses. Her character is described as a unique allrounder who becomes a mentor figure to our main cast as they embark on their journey.
This will be LN's first on-screen role of her career. LN's experience mostly lies in Broadway, she is known for playing Kim in the Miss Saigon revival on Broadway. LN was nominated for a Tony in 2022 for the same role. She is repped by Salonga/Chien Entertainment and B817 Agency.
Riordan posted on the Meta app, Threads, about this update to the casting saying: "YN was one of the actors we didn't expect to see a tape of but when we saw it, we couldn't help but fall in love with her. She embodies the spirit of Rina so well and is such a kind spirit, we can't wait for you to fall in love with her too! Welcome to the cast, YN!"
The live-action show is based on Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson book series. It tells the fantastical tale of the titular 12-year-old modern demigod (Scobell), who's just coming to terms with his newfound supernatural powers when the sky god Zeus accuses him of stealing his master lightning bolt. With help from his friends Grover (Simhadri) and Annabeth (Jeffries), Percy must embark on an adventure of a lifetime to find it and restore order to Olympus.
Production on the show is now underway in Vancouver. Riordan and Jon Steinberg are writing the pilot with James Bobin directing. Steinberg and his producing partner Dan Shotz are overseeing the series and serve as executive producers alongside Bobin, Rick Riordan, Rebecca Riordan, Bert Salke, Monica Owusu-Breen, Jim Rowe, Anders Engström, Jet Wilkinson, and Gotham Group's Ellen Goldsmith-Vein, Jeremy Bell, and D.J. Goldberg. 20th Television is the studio. Salke was formerly the president of Touchstone Television and originally put the show into development.
liked by percyseries, iamcharliebushnell, and 37,789 others
thelnarchive the child of the muses @percyseries
percyseries OUR MUSE!
user1 this is literally perfect casting who cried i did
↳ user2 she's so rina coded! thank the gods for the casting directors
iamcharliebushnell only muse in my life
↳ thlnarchive only traveler in my life
↳ user3 the way filming hasn't started and they're already like this
↳ user4 their chemistry is chemistry-ing
user5 roman empire. she is my roman empire.
dior.n.goodjohn i LOVE LOVE LOVE women
↳ thelnarchive HELP i love you
user6 this is so fcking random but i NEED her in a taylor swift music video
A/N
i truly hope you guys can forgive the horrible editing in the pictures.
the article portion is based on (and has some parts that are directly pulled from) this article from variety !
here's some succint information about rina velasco, the PJO character YN LN plays (and is my childhood OC!)
- rina velasco, filipino, 18 years old (year younger than luke)
- she's an offspring of the muses, not directly a child or daughter, though she may be referred as such
- by her being an offspring of the muses, i mean that she was born in the same way athena's children are born.
- but in rina's case she's more like a weird conglomeration of each muse. her birth is a rare event, but her mothers are honored as minor goddesses so she stayed in the apollo cabin (connection to music)
- rina operates as a guidance figure for the main trio, especially annabeth
- she's also luke's love interest, there's a lot of tragicness and doomed romance stuff with those two
- and for the sake of everyone, we pretend like the weird i love you from the books didn't happen !
#luke castellan imagines#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson imagines#percy jackson and the olympians imagines#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy series#pjo#pjo series#pjotv#heroes of olympus#luke castellan#charlie bushnell x reader#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell imagines#smau#pjo smau#pjo tv show#percy jackson tv show#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson smau#pjo au
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Intersection
"And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living"
Synopsis: A twisted turn of events lead you to question everything you've ever known of Mingyu.
Pairing: Mingyu x fem!Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU/Angst/Betrayal
Word Count: 2723
Warnings: Cuss words, non-graphic description of s3x, probably bad writing, cheating
Playlist: Dynasty ~Miia
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All your life, the concept of soulmates was romanticised and worshipped. You had friends who were happily bonded, co-workers who found peace in their mates, hell even your parents were truly a match made in heaven; their relationship was such an inspiration for you that it made you crave that kind of intimacy and understanding with yours. The way they understood each other with just a knowing look made you respect their bond. You wanted what they had.
And you got it and more when you found Mingyu through some mutual friends and discovered that you two were soulmates. You were over the moon to have found a man so gorgeous inside out. You were scared that he was only a glittery sham but he swept you right off your feet.
There was not a day that passed by that Mingyu failed to make your life seem like a fairy tale. Sure you had your share of arguments and disagreements but in the end, you two ended up right back in each other's arms, where you two truly belonged. He made your heart race every single moment and there was no place that you'd rather be if not beside Mingyu.
There's nothing else you could possibly want.
Or maybe there is.
You watched the way Seokmin and his soulmate naturally gravitated towards each other, practically glowing with a giddy aura around them and you couldn't wait for the day when Mingyu and you were standing on the altar, exchanging vows of your own, just like them.
And you knew it would be equally, if not more, magical the day that you do, for your life with Mingyu was like a fruitful reward for all the sufferings of your past lives. It had to be because there's no way you'd be blessed with a partner like Mingyu, who seemed to love you more than life itself.
Your wandering eyes fell on another pair that you recognised and your heart filled with sympathy for them. Mingyu once shared Seungcheol's dilemma with you and you remember quickly sending a quick prayer to whatever God blessed you because you couldn't imagine being bondless and then finding love in someone who's meant for someone else, alone your own sibling. Thank God you had Mingyu who loved and accepted you without any inhibitions.
As if feeling your gaze on them, his lover met your eyes and you two exchanged a perceptive smile, completely aware of each other's expressions and feelings. You truly wished for them to find happiness, they were good people or at least from what Mingyu told you and you trusted him. He had known Seungcheol through work before you two had even met, so obviously he knew better than you when it came to his friends and you completely trusted his judgement.
Speaking of which, it had been nearly half an hour since Mingyu disappeared with some colleagues for a few drinks. God you hope he didn't get drunk, he was already tipsy before he left. You turned down towards the hallway, aware that you need to find Mingyu soon for he becomes a real piece of work when drunk, refusing to part even an inch from you, sulking if you don't give into his bizarre wishes.
All of a sudden, a strenuous sensation gripped your chest, as if someone was squeezing your heart and then mangled it. It made you lean against the wall and rub your chest, hoping to soothe the discomfort. A drop of blood fell on your knuckle, making you realise that you had a nosebleed too.
What the hell was this? You had never felt something like this before. Was it something that you ate? Or drink? But you didn't drink too much. Oh God! What if something happened to Mingyu? Was he okay? You had several stories of a soulbond being affected if a bonded mate is injured or sick.
Gosh! You needed to find him without any delay.
You spotted a guest room right across you, the door ajar and seemingly vacant so you decided to use the washroom to clean off the blood of your face and clothes only to halt at the threshold, unable to process the sight that you witnessed.
A man that had a striking resemblance to Mingyu was all over a woman; their lips locked in a frenzy, their hands wandering to forbidden places and their hips conjoined and moving in short, quick thrusts.
The man moved his kisses down the woman's neck; the woman you knew all too well as Mingyu's ex-girlfriend and colleague, who though mutually broke up, was always having eyes for your soulmate, often throwing a few flirty remarks here and there, uncaring about your presence and soon enough you had learnt to ignore her because Mingyu hadn't given you any reason to not trust him, had he? He loved you and only you so why should you even bother?
It couldn't be your Mingyu, no, you were probably hallucinating. Mingyu would never cheat on you, he cannot even think of hurting you like that even in his wildest dreams.
The trickling tears down your cheeks angered you. Why were you even crying over a misunderstanding? You harshly wiped your cheeks, almost walking out when she moaned out his name, loud and clear, sealing the fated doom of your soul bond and the remainder of your life with it.
"Gyu!"
You helplessly watch as he groaned in what you know for sure, ecstasy as his vigour only fueled further. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, hoping this nightmare would end and you'd wake up back in the safety of your bedroom in Mingyu's arms. You had hoped that her voice calling out a name that only you did would snap him out of whatever trance he seemed to be in and he'd realise that this wasn't you but some other woman. But it didn't.
You could feel it creeping up in you, the anger, an intense, uncontrollable hateful rage the longer you watched them and before your brain could even process, your hands had already picked up the vase on the hallway table and hurled it towards those cheating bastards, apathetic of the force inflicting any serious injury. In fact, you wanted it to hurt, you wanted them to bleed just as much as your heart was.
No, you wouldn't be the only one to end up hurting tonight.
You watched as the two flinched at the sudden attack as the vase bumped onto Mingyu's head with a thud, that was sure to bruise, before bouncing off to his cheating accomplice, hitting her right in the face, making her cry out in agony.
Good! Die in pain and burn in hell.
"I hope you had a good fuck Kim Mingyu because this is the last time you feel anything."
You watched how Mingyu's face contacted in rage as he turned to face the intruder only to turn pale in horror as he realised you saw him being unfaithful to you. He jumped off the bed, fumbling over his clothes and putting them on haphazardly, increasing your disgust and fury. You swear you wanted to kill him and then yourself, such was your temper that was building up and consuming you. You dug your nails in your knuckles, wishing it'd distract you for a moment.
"Baby, I swear it's not like that. I ..I don't even know how I ended up here... It just happened...."
You wanted to believe him and you would have disillusioned yourself into thinking he made a drunken mistake, such was your love for him, if he wasn't sober. And that alone shattered your heart into further tiny irreplaceable bits. What excuse would you make up in your head to put your brain into a delusion that this never happened and that your Mingyu was in love with you. Only you.
"I can't believe you Mingyu. Why?"
You watched Mingyu visibly shrink as your exhausted question echoed in the silence of the room.
"I ..I don't know baby..I ..I have no excuses for this.... I'm so sorry baby.... Love...I will make it up to you I swear...."
The more he spoke, the more you wanted to hurt him. How dare he even have the audacity? How would he make it up to you? What would he make up when nothing is left to be repaired?
You watched as he tried to hold your shaking hands in his only for you to violently jerk his hold off you.
"Don't you dare fucking touch me with your disgusting hands."
You appalled scream froze him to his place as tears cascaded down his face as the horrifying effect of his infidelity finally settled inside him. His touch, his face, his whole fucking existence nauseated you so much you couldn't stand to even look at him any longer than you already have.
You ran past the guests outside the venue, quickly texting your brother to come and pick you up because you knew your body was slowly giving up and in no time, you'd shut down.
A hand pulled you back around through the elbow as you realised Mingyu had chased you and pulled you to his chest, holding you by the cheeks.
"It wasn't meant to go this far, I swear baby, we were just catching up by the bar and the next thing I knew we were in bed together. It doesn't mean anything to me. She doesn't mean anything to me. It's you love I swear. Please don't go. I don't want to lose you."
"For someone who doesn't want to lose me, you don't act like you want to keep me."
His face portrayed his helplessness as he sobbed in disbelief which made you scoff in disdain. Did he really think his pathetic excuse of a reason was enough for you to stay and torment yourself for the rest of your life?
"This was a huge mistake love and it'll never happen again. I promise you."
You pushed him off you, making him tumble a few steps back.
"Damn right it won't because I won't stay around to find out if it does."
You only managed to take a few steps ahead when he ran around you to block your way. AGAIN!
"Baby please don't leave me. You don't understand. I'll die without you."
The wrath that was bubbling up within you every single second finally erupted at his audacious words. How dare he play the victim? You landed an impactful punch on his chest, sending him a few steps away from yourself, wanting to have an outlet was the ever increasing rage inside you.
"I don't understand? YOU don't understand Mingyu how heartbroken it is to have your trust broken by the one person you blindly put your faith in. YOU don't understand how humiliated I feel as I'm unable to face my own thoughts because I still can't process you could ever cheat on me in your friend's wedding venue. YOU don't understand how angry I feel at myself for still hoping you'd have a valid enough excuse for me to take your unfaithful ass back. YOU don't understand that all I see when I look at you now is not the countless good memories of us but you kissing and touching another woman the way you should've only done to me."
You could hear your voice dampening with every sentence as the weight of those vulnerable words settled between you two in the hollow night as sobs wrecked your fatigued body. Where did it all go wrong?
"Where did I lack Mingyu? What was it that I couldn't give to you? Why couldn't you tell me if I didn't satisfy you enough? What could I have done differently for you to not disgrace our bond like this?"
All your rage boiled down to cries as hopelessness washed all over your senses. You had endlessly and limitlessly given yourself to him and you still weren't enough? All those cherished moments between you two didn't mean anything to him? Your sacred bond reduced and succumbed to a one night stand. Was this your worth?
"It wasn't you baby. You are everything to me. There's nothing wrong with you. It's me...I'm stupid and selfish and undeserving of a goddess like you. Please, please forgive me love. I'd do anything to gain your forgiveness. Please!"
You watched as he fell down to his knees in front of you but even the pitiful sight of him tearfully begging you couldn't erase the sight of him buried inside her; the one that made you feel like an outsider in your own relationship.
"There's nothing you could do to mend us back Mingyu. We're done."
Even as you cried, you could slowly feel the emotions inside you hollowing into nothingness, an apathy was starting to wrap around your brain, numbing your thoughts.
"No no no this can't be the end of us. Not like this baby....we...we are soulmates.. We're meant to be... We can't be without one another.... Please...I love you...I love you so much....."
His confession should've thawed your heart, broken the barriers of numbness that your brain was building, reminded you of the kisses you shared when you first confessed your love for each other and warmed your heart, instead it made you want to throw up in your mouth for these words didn't mean anything to you anymore.
"But not enough to refrain from jumping into bed with every other woman that you see."
His shoulders slumped with defeat as he realised he was fighting a losing battle because your mind was slowly pushing itself into nothingness. There really was no turning back.
You willed yourself to walk away from him and turned round the next corner, right in time to empty out the contents in your guts, till you were left dry heaving and sobbing. You wanted to control yourself till you were safely home, where no one can find you and embarrass you but it was too much. Everything was too much. Your head was throbbing, your chest was constructing, your muscles ached, your brain had stopped working and your thoughts were a jumbled mess. Too much! Someone needed to stop all this.
Someone held your hair up simultaneously rubbing your back, trying to provide you some comfort. Gosh you didn't want anyone to see like this, all vulnerable and pathetic, only to find it was your sibling.
"Johnny!"
Your brother brought you to his chest, making your head slump in weariness and you felt his arms tighten around you securely.
"Ssh! I'm here.
You closed your eyes, hoping to muster as much strength as your brother could provide.
"It's all over John. I'm done."
You were entranced in the shimmering gold sparkle that was Kim Mingyu that you forgot that in the end, all glitter turned into nothing but dust. You had foolishly wanted to bask in the shimmer but your ignorance only left you in the midst of the dusty pile of the dazzle that was once your life.
In honour of all the good times that you had with Mingyu, you couldn't say you wished to turn back time to change everything because selfishly, you wanted to turn back time and pause it when you were contentedly lying in Mingyu's arms, listening to him ranting passionately about his favourite football team on a rainy night.
You had been loved but more importantly, you had been in love and that was something you cherished. You only prayed to whatever God that heard you, that if Mingyu is who you're meant to find in every life, then you wanted to be with him on happier terms; and not to love him for a while and then live on without him. And if all you two are is soulmates in betrayal, then you could only hope, you didn't love him so deep that he takes everything from you and you're left with nothing but emptiness.
You wanted to meet him on a path which allowed you both to walk together, watching all sunsets for the rest of your lives.
That's all you want; till then you're content to be just a page of his story.
©stayinhellevator2024: Please don't repost, copy or translate my work on any platform.
Read On Wattpad
#golden ratio#tara writes svt#sihwrites#mingyu fic#mingyu angst#mingyu fanfic#mingyu ff#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#mingyu x reader#mingyu x you#Mingyu x fem reader#svt mingyu fic#kim mingyu fanfic#kim mingyu scenarios#kim mingyu imagines#seventeen Mingyu fic#seventeen Mingyu scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt scenarios#svt fic#svt fanfic#svt imagines#svt angst#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#svt x reader
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I just need you both right now...
Here's the second part for you all, hope you all like it!
I was a bit stupid at the start of the week and injured my knee so I currently can't do much other than rest it right now, so I'm back to writing again!
Thank you to @alotofpockets for her help as always! So so grateful!
Pairings: lia wälti x teen reader, caitlin foord x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Wally?” Leahs’ voice is anxious as she turns to the brunette Swiss woman, who has just finished parking her car outside of your mum’s new house.
“Probably not, but I want to know why on earth she thought it was appropriate to teach my daughter self-defence like that” Lia’s frustration seethes as she switches off the car’s ignition.
“Don’t be angry with Mum” You interject quickly, feeling the need to defend her. From your perspective, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with her actions, “It’s not her fault!” you assert pointedly.
Lia clicks her tongue and shakes her head in disagreement, “She shouldn’t be teaching you this in the first place, Y/F/N!” she exclaims, undoing her seatbelt.
“I think it’s best if I stay in the car” Leah decides, opting out of another potential argument between the two exes, her being there wouldn’t do very much to help right now.
“Okay, Le” Lia’s expression softens as she looks at the blonde before turning to you, slouched in the backseat, “Come on Y/N/N” she gestures for you to follow her out of the car.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car, following your mama’s lead as she strides towards the front door, her knuckles rapping impatiently.
“Alright, alright. Geez, I’m comin’ now. Just hold on!” A familiar voice grumbles from behind the closed door, which you immediately recognise as Ella, Katie’s younger sister who now lives with them.
“Hey, squirt. Shouldn’t you still be in school?” Ella asks, puzzled, as she greets you.
“Hi Ella!” You wave cheerfully, despite the circumstances of why you were here, “I was at school earlier, but then I got into trouble and well, now I’ve been suspended” You ramble your explanation, oblivious to the annoyed facial expression your mama currently has when you retell your account of events.
“Uh oh” Ella chuckles, amused by your latest antics.
You sometimes wished you could move in with your mum, although you miss the times’ that your mum and mama both lived together with you, things were so much easier then.
Cutting through the light banter, Lia gets straight to the point with the blonde girl, “Look, I’m not in the mood to mess around here, Ella. Where is Caitlin? I need to speak to her” she states.
“Uh, right, she’s inside the house. Hold on, I’ll shout for her now— Caitlin? Lia and the kids’ here!” Ella calls out, momentarily forgetting that she was currently live on TikTok, which was now buzzing with comments reacting to the conversation out of frame.
“Comin’ now!” Caitlin’s voice rings from inside the house.
Without much hesitation, you dart through the front door to greet Caitlin, “Mum!” You shout, practically leaping into her arms.
“Hey, kiddo” Caitlin is able to catch you mid-air, spinning you around in her arms, “So, what’s this that I heard you got into trouble at school, huh? That kid must’ve deserved it if they’re pickin’ on you!” she jests.
“I hit them good and proper, exactly like you taught me to do!” You proudly mimic the moves you’d used to defend yourself, “I remembered to hit her right where it hurts!” You add.
“Ah, that’s my girl!” Caitlin beams proudly, setting you back on the ground and ruffling your hair.
“Yeah, although mama’s not happy with you now though cos’ I just told her I did what you showed me” You innocently play the two women against each other.
“Oh boy” Caitln’s face clouds as she faces Lia’s disapproving gaze at the door, while Ella is still awkwardly holding her phone.
“You seriously taught Y/N self-defence?!” Lia’s anger simmers as she confronts her ex-girlfriend.
“Yeah, why shouldn’t I have?” Caitlin fires back defensively.
Lia scoffs and shakes her head, “Because, no thanks to you and that ‘help’ it’s now led her to be suspended for the rest of the week!” she retorts incredulously.
“Whoa, whoa!” Caitlin holds her hands in self-surrender, “How is this all of a sudden just my fault?” The Australian woman furrows her eyebrows in confusion.
“Well I’m certainly not the one that taught her to use her fists, Caitlin!” Lia protests, her frustration evident.
“Uh, I don’t know what’s goin’ on right now, but uh— Oh shit, the lives’ still on” Ella mutters in realisation when she glances down at her phone and hurries to end it.
“I taught her self-defence in case she ever needed to use it, like today, for example” Caitlin argues, shaking her head.
Lia scoffs and shakes her head in disagreement with her ex, “If you hadn’t taught her it then she wouldn’t be in trouble at school in the first place!” she states firmly.
“Can I stay over here tonight, mum?” You look up at Caitlin expectantly.
“Of course you can, kiddo” Caitlin responds.
“No” Lia interjects.
You’re caught off guard by the conflicting responses from both of them, though you know that you don’t truly deserve to stay the night, all you crave is to be with your mum and mama and at least this way, you have both of them together right now.
Sometimes acting out feelings like the only solution to get their attention.
“She can stay if she wants to” Caitlin insists, glaring at Lia.
“It’s not your day, Caitlin” Lia reminds her.
“So? What does that matter– Let her spend the night here just this once, Lia. She obviously needs it with everything going on!” The Australian woman argues back.
“With everything going on? She got in trouble at school, Caitlin. This is serious– She doesn’t need to be rewarded for this behaviour!” Lia stands firm on her decision.
You shuffle your feet, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you listen to the heated exchange between your moms once again. The constant bickering, the never-ending tension– It’s like a suffocating cloud, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.
As Lia and Caitlin argue yet again, you can’t help but feel like your own problems are trivial in comparison. The bullying at school, the taunts, the physical attacks– They all seem so insignificant when your moms’ can’t even stop fighting long enough to notice.
You thought about telling them in the past, about opening up and seeking their support, but every time you muster the courage, their voices rise again, drowning out your own.
Sometimes it feels like your problems don’t matter, as if they’re too consumed by their own issues to care about yours, so it’s easiest to just suffer in silence, plastering on a smile to hide the pain, pretending like everything’s okay when it’s anything but.
You long for the days when your moms were a united front, when you felt safe and loved, and understood; Now, you just have to navigate between their two households where it feels like sometimes you’re walking on eggshells.
Sometimes you feel so lost, unsure what to do but somehow you decided down the road, it was just better to hide your feelings away from everyone who cared about you.
You made it so that neither of your mums’ realised what was going on and they just thought it was the typical misbehaviour from a teenager.
“How about you let me decide what I want to do instead of just assuming?” You speak up, tired of their endless bickering, “I’m almost 16 now, I can make my own decisions!”
You really didn’t mean to yell, but you’re fed up now. You need both of them to set aside their differences and support you.
Why was that so difficult?
“I just… I just need you both right now, I need you both together– And you can’t even stay within the same distance before you just end up yelling at one another!” You cry out, hoping they’ll understand your plea.
At least that seemed to have gotten both of their attention when they looked at you confused.
“What’re you talking about, kiddo?” Caitlin frowns, confused.
Lia turns to you bewildered, “What’s wrong, Y/N/N?” she asks, concern etched on her face.
You shuffle nervously on your feet as you try and muster up the courage to explain what has been going on.
When did things become so difficult to talk about?
“I’m being bullied…” Your voice trembles as you force the words out, a knot tightening in your throat, “It’s been going on for a while, I…. I just didn’t know how to tell you both because you’re so wrapped up in arguing with each other to care about me!” You confess, your fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on your school jumper.
Lia gasps in shock, her eyes widening in realisation, “What? That’s not true, Y/N/N” she disputes, her tone softening with concern.
Feeling a glimmer of hope at Lia’s response, you meet her gaze, your eyes pleading for understanding, “But it is true, mama” You insist, your voice shaky but determined, “Every time I’ve tried to talk to you about this, you’re either arguing or too busy with your own stuff to notice” You tell her.
Caitlin’s expression softens as she takes in your words, a pang of guilt flashing across her features, “I’m sorry kiddo” she murmurs, her voice laced with regret, “I didn’t realise… I’ve been so caught up in everything lately. I… We didn’t see how much you were hurting” she states in concern.
Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you nod, a wave of relief washing over you at their acknowledgement, “It’s okay” You whisper, feeling a weight lifting from your shoulders, “I just… I just need you to both be there for me, to listen and to understand me” you tell them honestly.
Lia reaches out, pulling you into a tight hug, her embrace offering comfort and reassurance, “We will be, sweetheart” she promises, her voice gentle as she glances at Caitlin who nods in agreement, “We’re here for you, no matter what” she adds.
Caitlin joins the embrace, wrapping her arms around both of you, her eyes reflecting a mix of regret and determination, “We’ll figure this out, together” she vows, her voice firm with resolve.
In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love and support, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you. Despite the challenges ahead, you know that with your moms by your side, you can face anything.
© scribblesofagoonerr
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#arsenal x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso one shot#arsenal women x reader#lia wälti x reader#caitlin foord x reader#arsenal wfc x reader
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Monday of Appreciation: Part 101
Hello everyone, Smite here!
2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of Monday of Appreciation!
My first MoA post was posted on the 20th of September 2021, two years. Time really flies, huh? I don't want this to be just another MoA 100 post, but I really gotta thank you all, especially because Part 100 received so much love, God, it made me so happy <3 It was a kinda cathartic moment, the series had an epic peak... all thanks to you.
I definitely also want to thank all the writers, without whom this all wouldn't exist. My way of thanking you all is by... featuring a FUCKTON of stories below. Even if you are not featured (first of all, I'm sorry lol), I still appreciate your work and comradery in the bunker. Y'all are amazing <3
LET'S GET TO IT!!!
No. 1: @dnd-writes: Way of Water ft. Eunbi
Ah yes, Waterbomb Eunbi. The event that captured us all. The idea with the backup dancer is straight forward, nice, but the greatest thing about this is the watersports. Waterbomb, watersports... you get it? Just read it.
No.2: @leafostuff: No Names Needed ft. Sheon (Billlie)
Thanks to Leafo for spreading the good word of Sheon and her... goddamn midriff. No more reasons needed, appreciate this girl already, ugh.
No. 3: @iznsfw: The Devil's Telephone ft. Yujin
Everything IZ touches skips the part where it turns to gold. Fuck gold, IZ just creates diamondtic-masterpieces. I was thrilled to learn about this fic and when I read it... IZ did it again! This portrayal of Yujin is everything. What are we to your might!
No. 4: @idyllicidols: Cheat Day ft. Wonyoung
Wonyoung gangbang with her fans? I bet you all are already foaming at your mouth. Go on. Read it. Leave some love for this talented writer after getting your loads off the screen.
No. 5: @rvp32: Whisper of Uncontrollable Desire ft. Chaewon
Let me tell you, rvp is great! They don't hold back, they go all out, they try A/B/O, they like futa (please write futa!) and they have a Gaeul series. This one fucking sent me <3
No. 6: @existslikepristin: Not Summer Yet ft. Jeongyeon
Thx ELP for the nice message on Part 100! Thanks also for giving us these crazy pieces again and again (well, this one isn't too crazy for your standards, but you get me). This felt really intimate, liked it!
No. 7: @dreamcatchers-husband: The City of Love and Secrets ft. Sejeong
You better learn French for this fic. But fr, now I wanna go to Paris and marry a beautiful girl before :floshed: filling her up because she truly is mine now ahhhhh
No. 8: @capslocked: SERENDIPITY ft. Eunbi
Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, what am I gonna do with you? Your fics are ALWAYS in my to read list and when I get to them... yeah, takes more than one attempt... more like five. Fuck you, I love you.
No. 9: @ggidolsmuts: Sin, Hormones and the Starlet's Boyfriend ft. Yunjin, Somi
HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, that was so FUCKING hot, I caaaaan't stop meeeeee, this is so good, I need more of this. Yeah, basically every ddeun fic makes me go like this. What a fucking legend, man.
No. 10: @smuttysabina: A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts ft. E:U (Everglow)
As you can see, the title is quite elaborate on what happens in this fic. A bunch of perverts, a lot (and I do mean a LOT) of cum to breed and in the end everyone is happy. You too, you filthy pervert?
No. 11: @writingsomesin-amber: Puppies' New Toy Part 3 ft. LSFM, Xiaoting
FUTA, the best kind of futa. The one with Alphas, with Kazuha (who always has a HUGE cock), with boundless sex that's just horny nonsense. This is what I want to read. Thank you for writing it!
No. 12: @co-reborn: [PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 ft. Jiheon
This is a sequel to probably the best porn focused smut to ever exist. Thank you, c.o, for creating this, for making it a universe and for dropping another Jiheon smut. She hot, you hot <3
No. 13: @pfxhk: Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure ft. Yuqi
Kaaajin <3 finally another Yuqi fic and a very good one at that. I want her hot lips wrapped around me too now.
No. 14: @rosiesmuts: After Dark ft. Rose
Rose little fuck doll. Her pics lately have been mind-fucking or sth like that, I dunno, just sex. Oh, and I know a lot of good things happen late at night.
No. 15: @akkaweo-akkaweo: Treatment ft. Jinsoul
That's the treatment wr allll want from our dear Jinsoul. Her gorgeous visuals have really stunned me since she joined Modhaus. Now paint that pretty face.
No. 16: @mode-lfy: Jinni (SMUT) ft. Jinni (ex-NMIXX)
Sooooo... when does Jinni unzip my pants, first thing in the morning finally come back?
Edit: SHE ACTUALLY IS?!?! LFG!
No. 17: @worldsover: link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon
This one is the follow-up to c.o's [PVV], so we got a whole-ass universe with pornstar!Jiheon now. What a blessing, and it leaves us with no doubt that Jihron would reach that 0.1% if she'd show her cute face and bubble butt on cam... when tho???
No. 18: @allthekingssmut: She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere ft. Heejin
Star Wars is already a win in my book, pair it with hotness everywhere (the sun, a mechanic, her face) and it only gets better and better. The release to all the fucking tension between those two is EPIC. Great fic!
No. 19: @writerpeach: Overindulgent ft. Wonyoung
To say I have over-indluged in this fic would be a massive understatement. When Peach let's loose and pours out tens of thousands of words of unpure smut, we know we got ourselves a massive hit, no matter the idol. To make it even better, Wonyoung.
No. 20: @okaylikesmomo: Kampfyre Part 1 - Vocals ft. Winter
Just one word: vocal training. Wait, that is two words! So Imma a need okay to write a second part to this, because Winter has not been trained enough (imo).
No. 21: @pupyuj: Magic Words ft. Wonyoung (fem!reader)
More love to female reader fics! Especially thise one, with this sweet and spicy Wony that makes girls' legs weak and mine too xD Thank you for this great story and hot smut!
No. 22: @usedpidemo: Parasailing ft. Yuri, Minju
This story feels so nostalgic, so oddly familiar. Like I was there throughout it all and feel entitled to the release at the end. This fic has me gliding, high on their two perfect bodies.
No. 23: @summersault31: Concerto Pt. 1 ft. IU
Blowjobs under the table while tempting another woman into your sinful lifestyle... this combines a clichee with a hook that has you begging: Summer, where is Part 2?
No. 24: @midnightdancingsol: I swear, the Bear Poked Me! ft. futa!Minji x Danielle
Now for the futa appreciation. I think Sol is perfect for this, especially because the mere thought of Minji fucking Dani with her... HUGE COCK... so big and... were was I? Oh yeah, Hanni is also in this.
No. 25: @maemisnippets: You're Mine, Cheeks ft. Chaehyun (fluff)
In between 29 smuts, there is this one short fluff by our dear Maems. Well deserved, I must say. Keep it up, qt, always fun bits to read.
No. 26: @mintwithchoco: [CYMX-461] ft. Choerry, Jinsoul
Monopoly can be so much fun, if you are willing to strike some questionable deals to further your chances of winning and everyone's chances to have a good time. Bathtub sex?
No. 27: @nichuuu: Where our blue is ft. Rei
A beautiful story, it truly made me fall in love with Rei, her strive and determination, her failure, her rise---and the insane, drawn-out fucking at the end. Where our blue is has it all and I have to congratulate @nichuuu: In between all these great writers, this story really stuck out to me!
No. 28: @svndaysaweek: Niche ft. Hanni
Cute little Hanni in need of her step-brother, because she is so deeply in love with him... this was so adorable and sweet at the start and then went into an excessive smut part that fried my brain.
No. 29: @sinswithpleasure: You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet] ft. Mina, Sana, Momo
I. Would. Not. Last. There is no shame in me saying this, but I just couldn't, with these three hotties right in front of me. Blast it all over their bodies, hng.
No. 30: @xiakato: Ella Baila Sola ft. Xiaoting
Hm, maybe Xiaoting should dance alone, I'm not really good at it though my Just Dance scores would beg to differ.
Hey, if you read all of that, you're fucking awesome. I appreciate you, and hope, you have a great week ahead. Until the next MoA, goodbye!
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Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.
Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.
First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.
Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.
Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.
Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.
On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:
- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.
- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.
- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.
- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.
Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.
Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.
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[Dave] goes underground and discovers gold ruins. Before entering, he's interrupted by Karkat who uses a memo to warn both him and John about their involvement with Terezi and Vriska, telling them the scourge sisters are partaking in a dangerous game of rivalry fueled flirtation which has gotten both him and John killed at least once each.
Initially, I wasn’t sure we’d seen all four of these deaths - but on reflection, I think I can actually list them.
John was manipulated to his death by Terezi, creating Davesprite’s timeline.
He was also killed by Jack, as part of Vriska’s plan to turn him into a god.
Green-Suit Dave was killed as the result of Terezi’s game/experiment.
Red-Suit Dave was killed by DD, who was acting on Vriska’s suggestion to create Bec.
Bro is slain by his own sword, and the body is discovered by Dave later, who can't bring himself to retrieve the sword.
Bro's death is canon - but, at least for now, Davesprite's death is not. Hope is the thing with feathers.
[Dave] then goes on to make all the money needed, to buy all the fraymotifs, which are powerful battle techniques purchased from consorts, and to reach the top of his echeladder.
I’m interested in seeing these Fraymotifs in action – particularly the combined ones that we saw in John’s walkaround.
John appears to be getting a combination attack with each of his co-players. Based on what we know of their respective Aspects, I'll brainstorm some hypothetical techniques that match these names.
Ivories in the Fire [Breath/Time]: I'm picturing John and Dave's combination attack as a time-accelerated hurricane. The main problem with weather manipulation is that it tends to be rather slow; John's storms come out relatively fast, but Dave's help, he can bring them out instantly, firing gales off with the speed and precision of lasers.
Mixolydian Maelstrom [Breath/Light]: A maelstrom of light and wind sounds like something John and Rose would use to distract foes, rather than directly harm them. I think this could be a smoke-and-mirrors technique, summoning strobe lights and clouds of dust to confuse and disrupt large groups of enemies.
Fantasia’s Inhale [Breath/Space]: This sounds like some reality-bending shit. Maybe the Prospit siblings can warp space in a way that synergizes with John's normal fighting style. For example, they could lower the mass of any objects in their vicinity, allowing John's wind to launch much larger objects than normal.
With [Dave’s] massive reserve of grist accumulated in his travels and his more advanced torrenting capabilities, he allows Jade to alchemize some sophisticated equipment right away.
This is a good point that I didn’t catch at the time. The GristTorrent we saw in the comic has an extremely slow download speed, but Jade quickly had millions of grist to spare. Dave had to have a way to speed up the transfer.
[Jade] makes her entry item from the pre-punched card. A tree sprouts from the alchemiter, and a green Bec-shaped pinata dangles from a branch.
Oddly enough, Jade’s entry item spawned the same tree that John’s did. Rose and Dave’s items didn’t have anything in common, so it's just the Prospit siblings whose items share traits.
How typical is this phenomenon? Does it mean anything? With this comic, it's often difficult to tell.
As the clock ticks down to the CRITICAL EVENT, the most important character in Homestuck sits and watches this pandemonium ensue.
And then, the second most important character in Homestuck positions a shitty drawing of himself in front of a typewriter and writes this recap.
Gamzee is now more important than Hussie, for whatever that’s worth. What the hell is going on with this guy?
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･ﾟﾟ･｡ my beautiful girlfriend | WEN JUNHUI
pairing: idol/actor!junhui x ff!reader // genre: oneshot; hurt, comfort, angst(?) // warnings: petnames; (baby and love), misunderstanding, overthinking, crying, lowkey self-depricating, proofread quickly. // wc: 1.6k
a/n: merry christmas <3 @honajoong hii lex!! I'm your secret santa :> despite starting a little late, I wanted to be involved as well and I got you!! I will admit I struggled to write for junhui since he's the first seventeen member I've written about, but hopefully I think I managed to grasp his characteristics(?) 🥹 I hope it's okay!! also 'yn yln' is 'your name' and 'your last name' :>
Two years. Two whole years since jun asked to be your boyfriend. Two whole years since you started supporting him through his acting career. But never in your two whole years together were you jealous about his co-stars or fans. You've always been hidden away from the public, not going to any events together. Not even getting barricade tickets for his and his group's concerts for the sake of not getting caught somehow.
It's always been like that though. But that's because no one knew about your relationship, not even the rest of his group members.
Jealousy has never been an issue for you until you read an article regarding jun's new upcoming Chinese drama. See, this was new to you. Usually you'd be excited; treating him to order take out from his favourite place, or buying him small gifts to add to his collection of other things you got him within your relationship.
As you read article after article the majority published about how jun and his co-star make such a good couple. Some even published pictures of them together at the premier event they recently attended, while others are scene captures from the said drama.
There was this one picture you saw that made your heart drum disturbingly loud in your ears, not because of the photo itself but because of the comments regarding it. Your eyes dart from comment to comment, 'Wen Junhui and ____ have incredible chemistry', 'A new couple in made in the industry?', 'I hope they're dating in real life.'
Your breathing pattern becomes ragged from the thought of feeling like you're hindering Jun in his life. If you were just making things difficult for him since you were no one but a regular person who works a 9-5 job. In times like this, which was rare, you had no one but yourself to console you.
A single tear runs down your cheek which has you vigorously wiping it off your face, refusing to let yourself become so weak because of this.
You see a text appear from the top of your phone, a text from your boyfriend asking how you were and letting you know when he'll be home, but a part of you felt like you were sinking inside. All these comments getting to your head about Jun and his co-star, but you know you shouldn't think that way. Besides, you never used to think that way initially.
Thinking that it's best to sleep off the thoughts gathering in your head, you grab the folded blanket beside you on the couch, splaying it over you as you play music from the t.v, hoping that would help you get your mind off it.
Hours pass, the living room dim from the lack of light but only from the t.v itself. You pick up your phone to check the time, and while you were asleep, you received multiple texts and a missed call from Jun; all the messages asking if you've eaten, what you want to watch later in the evening, and so forth.
However, you didn't feel like messaging him back, or even calling him back either. You thought your nap would rid of the uncomfortable overthinking, but it just has you questioning, 'why is he even with me?' He could pick any other girl, but why did he choose you. He has a beautiful co-star with incredible chemistry, why doesn't he just ask her to be his girlfriend instead—
"Yn?" Jun's voice echoes in the room and cuts off your trail of thoughts.
You refuse to turn your back and greet him, instead, you pick up the remote and search through films to watch as if he wasn't calling your name again.
"Hey, did you get my texts? Have you decided what you wanna eat tonight?" Jun asks again, caressing the top of your head and missed as he tried to kiss the top of your head, but you flinched away.
"Not hungry." You reply curtly.
He could sense something was off, not wanting to think too much into it, he lets it slide as he goes into the bedroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. He hasn't seen you behave this way before, wondering what possibly could have happened recently to tick you off. His mind was thinking of every possibility but to think of articles since his shoots for the drama were quite a while ago.
As he walks back into the living room, you're still sitting in the same spot on the couch. He walks around the couch to sit beside you, lifting the side of the blanket to share, but you take it off and let him have all of it instead.
Jun turns his head to look at you, a questioning expression on his face yet you don't turn to look at him. A straight, unbothered face is what he sees as your eyes are stuck on whatever movie you put on the t.v.
"Is everything alright? I feel like I've done something wro-"
"Everything's fine." You lie, cutting him off and not wanting to think about it anymore. For the first time in a while you almost didn't want to be in his presence for the sake of keeping sane.
"Well it doesn't sound fine." He turns his body, attempting to test the waters as he places a careful hand on your lap. This time you don't flinch.
You sigh. Pausing before you answer him honestly, "Because it's not."
"Love, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you won't tell me straight?" Jun's hand starts caressing your thigh in attempt to comfort you and allow you to open up to him, like you usually do.
You try to gather your thoughts and stare at one spot, but nothing in particular, on the t.v as your breathing becomes uneven. It's difficult talking about a feeling you never thought you had to ever talk about, but it was bound to happen at least once in your life. And that was this current moment in time.
A stuck, choked up feeling in your throat starts to erupt as you struggle to find the words to say, leading to you struggling to stop yourself from tearing up out of frustration.
You explain about the articles you've read about him and his co-star, the ones headlining and the comments you've seen. Your breathing hitches a little while you're talking, and Jun couldn't help but scoot closer to you with his arm around you.
"I tried my best to not let it bother me, but it was a lot to take in. I'm sorry." Jun wipes away at your tears, listening intently as you continue, "I know it's your job, I understand if I'm being unacceptable and if you don't want to be with me anymore."
Tears are non-stop streaming down your face, also because you're mad at yourself for becoming so weak and letting this get to you in the first place. You feel Jun's hand resting on the middle of your back, rubbing it with comfort.
You continue letting out your hushed cries, burying your face into his chest with muffled sorries leaving you. Jun's never seen you cry so much and his heart drops at the sound of your irregular breathing pattern in attempt to stop yourself crying. How could you stop when he hugs you tight momentarily, slowly swaying you side to side as he rests his cheek by your temple.
"Hey, hey. It's okay." He cups your cheek, pulling back to hold your face close to his. "You know you're always going to be the one for me. I'm sorry that hiding our relationship has been difficult, I know. I want to let everyone know that I'm yours, but right now it's a little tricky, and I know that's no excuse but I swear I will let people know. Sooner than later, I promise."
Your sobs quieten down, a little exhausted from the thoughts occupying your mind the whole day. But you respond with a slow nod and a tight lipped smile as you both shuffle on the couch and lay your head on his chest as his hand finds its way to skim up and down your back once again.
･ﾟﾟ･｡ ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ･ﾟﾟ･｡
It's been a few days since Jun had comforted you. Your phone pings from a notification about another article that had just released with the headline reading, 'Wen Junhui breaks rumours about dating co-star and is a relationship with Yn Yln"
You read it once more. And another time, expecting there to be hate thrown at you, but there was nothing but love and support from Jun's fans. It was entirely different to how you thought they would take it, but you're just grateful that it didn't go that way at all.
Your boyfriend's tall figure walks through the door with a bouquet of flowers, not even a couple of minutes after you had read the article, and he's making his way to you sat by the breakfast bar.
His subtle smile curves his lips as he holds the bouquet out for you. While you, on the other hand, are pouting; worried that it might ruin his career and receive potential hate, but Jun was unbothered. He was certain about it.
"You didn't have to do that, Jun." You insist, receiving the flowers from him. "I don't want this to affect your career."
He stands by your knees as you face him, towering over you ever so slightly.
"I wanted to let them know. I can't keep hiding this relationship forever," he kisses your forehead as his hands plant on your shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. "And honesty, as much as I love to keep you to myself, they need to know that you're my beautiful girlfriend."
© BOBA-BEOM ; do not repost, alter, translate, or claim as yours on here or any other platform.
tags: @lovejoshua @junniieesbby @flwrseon
permanent taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque
#wen junhui angst#wen junhi scenarios#wen junhio fic#wen junhui x reader#svt jun#wen junhui oneshot#junhui oneshot#junhui scenarios#junhui x reader#junhui angst#junhui fic#seventeen angst#junhui comfort#seventeen comfort#seventeen oneshot#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#my attempt at writing junhui#I WILL CRY IM SO NERVOUS#[ 🎄 ] — smiles' secret santa.#lex ♡#honajoong ♡#[ 🧸 ] — mutuals.
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Since there are quite a few award shows going on, what are your thoughts on a fic about Ewan and reader at the awards together and they are being so flirty (trying and failing so hard to hide it) in the background that even the cast are teasing them. Meanwhile it’s all going viral? As always, this just an idea, no pressure to write it or anything! Hope you have a lovely day :)
Secret Hand Holding
Ewan Mitchell x Reader
Summary: "YALL AINT SLICK, IVE GOT 20 LOW RES SS OF YAZ HOLDIN HANDS AND IMMA BOUTTA THROW HANDS"
Word Count: >600
Warnings: gender neutral!reader, use of y/n cos 🤧 tis unavoidable, crackfic, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: I need a breather cos i got this commission and i'm panicking over it. i did change some stuff about the req nonnie, so i hope ya still like it <3 also the gettyimages watermark HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @antisociablewallflower @lxdyred
Now Playing: ewan and [y/n] moments that are TOO SUS to be a ✨nothing✨
à la ai generated voice: Hello, Every [...] one i have been thinking about iwan- - - why did he say it like that- IWAN -- YOUWAN- And [...] y/n,,, ever since they did the house of the dragon press thing [...] and [...] i have not been able to get this
[SHAKY EFFECT] [LOUD BG MUSIC] [PHOTOGRAPH OF YOU AND EWAN]
à la ai generated voice: out of my head [...] So [...] here are a few moments during that event where i think it's just [MAX VOLUME] TOO SUS [NORMAL VOLUME] for them to not be [...] [...] idk horn dogging behind the- [CUT NOISE + WHITE SOUND]
You were posing for some pictures. Ewan just came in, chewing gum. Your name was begin called by the photographers and, quite frankly, you were serving like rent was due. You were giving. That in and of itself deserved its own edit (which it does-- it has its own edits).
Your expression was mostly stoic and your hands were relaxed upon the front of your thighs.
Then came Ewan, ready to pose for the carpet, and as he did so, the paparazzi called out his name, making you turn from your side, and immediately break character.
Your otherwise blank face morphs into a wide grin and you gather yourself, walking over to Ewan, though he was at a side where you had just finished posing. The moment you are remotely close, Ewan turns, and his own poker face twists into a pursed smile. He reaches out for you and gives you a hug.
You kiss his cheek and a lipstick mark stays on his skin for a good unknowing 6 seconds.
[loud bg] THAT SIX SECONDS IS WELL-DOCUMENTED.
From the moment you two pose next to each other, the different fan cams and multiple angles wherein the kiss mark and your smiles are visible, to the moment you turn and gasp, reaching out to wipe Ewan's cheek, it's all very much well-documented.
Ewan glances at you as you rub his cheek with your thumb. You're holding back a laugh as you mutter something that makes him thin his lips and mutter something back.
à la ai generated voice: GIRL WE KNOW 😃😃😃😩😩😩😒😒😒🤮🤮🤮 WE KNOW double yew double yew double yew double yew double yew,,, sigh [...] [...] now onto the part that went [...] [DEAFENINGLY LOUD] VIRAL
You were mid posing for the carpet right.
Ewan turns to you. He mumbles something that makes you turn over to your right and break into a laugh. You wave at someone (no one knows who to this day), and with a toothy grin, turn back to Ewan. The arms you had by each other's back slowly glide down against each other as you pull away and tell him something that makes him smirk and nod.
And then, your hands are by each other's wrists, dangling beside each other. Next thing that happens, you're holding hands and you're pulling him away.
Ewan follows you with no fuss. [EDIT IN SCREAMING SOUNDS] As you lead him off, you stop and await him to your side. Once he's close enough, you turn to him from over your shoulder and say something.
In reaction to whatever you said, Ewan smirks and shrugs. He points to the distance and, for some reason, you laugh really hard at that.
[REALLY LOUD GROANING, GROWLING, RABID NOISES]
à la ai generated voice: What the,,, [...] [...] [monotonous but loud] FUCKINGSHITFUCKINGFUCKFUCKINGFATHERFUCKINGFUCKERSHITCUNTRATGREMLINAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA [...] [...] did you just unleash upon this cursed land question mark (?)
#house of the dragon fanfic#aemond targaryen fanfic#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell fluff#ewan mitchell x you#hotd fanfic#hotd rpf fanfic
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TAKE IT ALL
A Monika Shin Oneshot
paring: gf!monika shin x fem!reader
synopsis: you and monika have been dating for years. she’s been your person since the beginning, and you’ve been hers. for the past few months, you’ve barely talked to her, much less seen her although you two live together. she’s been caught up with work and you’ve been understanding. that was until she forgot about your fourth anniversary.
word count: ≈ 2.4k
warnings: ANGST!!!, like I’m talking gut wrenching, nausea, strong language, feelings are hurt, mention of knives, monika is a d1 asshole here, angst with sad ending, if my english is bad here I'm sorry
masterlist
a/n: this is so self-indulgent bc I've been feening for some angst 🧎♀️ also I was listening to adele and sam smith while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏽 my heart physically hurted writing this I’m so proud (pun intended)
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The obnoxious ticking of the timepiece above the door constantly sounded, finding humor in your current situation. It was a little after 10 o'clock at night, and you were still waiting for your girlfriend to return.
Sure, the past few months have been a little rocky, but you've been understanding. Her schedule has been hectic with different events to attend, choreographies to work on, and classes to teach.
But this was different. You’ve tried as hard as you could to stay supportive and compassionate, though the minimal communication was eating you alive. You’ve tried so hard to give her the benefit of the doubt.
But this was different. It was your fourth anniversary and where was the woman you were supposed to be spending it with? Nowhere to be found. Except, that’s not entirely correct.
You knew where she was. You saw it on Lip J’s Instagram story a few hours ago. She had gone out with a couple of friends to a nightclub downtown, ignoring each and every one of your calls.
At this point, you were more tired than mad, but you were still very aggravated. You and Monika had only talked to each other once today, on one of the most special days in your year.
It was that morning when you passed each other in the kitchen. You asked her to come home earlier because you had something “special” planned for her. She agreed before kissing you goodbye and walking out the door.
There were no signs that she had forgotten what today was. None at all. You went the whole day giddy and excited about that afternoon. Your co-workers teased you for your excitement, but nothing they could say was able to wipe the smile off of your face.
After work, you stopped by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the special dinner you planned to make for the two of you. Ironically, it was Monika’s favorite dish. You had to substitute some factors for the second-best thing since the store ran out, but it still tasted the same.
You rushed home to begin cooking the meal before she got back. You were even dancing around the kitchen while cooking and looking back, you feel like an idiot at your excitement. At around 6:30ish, you sent her a text asking if she was on her way and received no reply.
You shrugged it off and started setting the table, assuming that she was finishing up her last class. After thirty minutes you decided to text her again and received no reply.
That's when you started calling, but she didn't pick up. You begin feeling worried, the worst scenarios coming to mind. You called around and found out that Monika was safe and healthy, but just not picking up your phone calls.
This is when you started feeling irritated. Your girlfriend of four years was ignoring you on your anniversary and it made your blood boil. But then, (maybe it was the delusional part of you that took control) you started to think she was just pulling a prank on you.
She would burst through the door at any moment now with a gift and your favorite flowers in tow, a bright cheesy smile adorning her features. But when you saw Lip J’s story, your fantasies came to a halt.
Now, you were sitting at the decorated table alone. The food had gone cold a while ago and the slow-melting candles were lighting your emotionless face. You were hurt. How dare she? How could she?
Every year without fail, neither of you had ever forgotten this sacred day. No matter the amount of work either of you had, you made sure to make time for each other on this day.
So this just confirmed how rocky things had recently been. You were lost in your thoughts when from the corner of your eye, you saw the door open. Your gaze slowly trailed from the wall to the front door where Monika had walked in.
You felt nauseous, the hurt and heartache getting to you. “I made you dinner.” You emotionlessly stated as Monika locked the door. She turned toward your seated figure and glanced at the table before looking back at the door.
“I'm not hungry,” Monika muttered, exchanging her shoes for her slippers by the door. You scoffed and humorlessly chuckled, pouring yourself a glass of wine.
Monika directed her gaze back toward you, finally taking notice of the tense environment. With a sigh, she dropped her duffel bag on the couch, mumbled a ‘fine’, and moved toward the table.
Before sitting down, she dipped her head to kiss your cheek. But, before she was able to reach it, you moved your head out of the way. She looked at you with furrowed brows and tried again, but you repeated your motions.
Her eyes darted across your face, observing your stone-cold expression before giving up and sitting in her seat. She took a bite of her serving and instantly started criticizing, “It's cold.” “Something tastes different.”
You mindlessly hummed at her statements, taking a sip of wine and keeping your eyes trained on the picture that hung on the wall behind her. Funny enough, it was a picture of you two on your second anniversary.
The two of you took a week-long vacation to Jeju Island in honor of that special day. How things have changed. “Interesting choice of wine…” Monika mumbled and that's when you decided you had enough.
You pushed your chair out and stood up, taking both plates and moving toward the trash bin. “What the fuck is your problem?” Monika exclaimed as she followed your figure.
You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips, dropping the plates onto the counter above the bin. “What's my problem? I made your favorite fucking food and all you did was critic every aspect of it.
There was no ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate you slaving away in the fucking kitchen for me as soon as you got home from work’.” You stressed every syllable, dropping the food in the trash as your voice grew louder.
“Is that what this is about? The food?” You were quick to respond to Monika’s words, spinning towards her after you reached the sink. “It's not about the food! Don't you see? I wanted to spend time with you today!
I asked you to come home early today and what did you do? You went to a fucking nightclub with your friends.” You're voice cracked a little, and you wanted to slap yourself for getting this vulnerable.
The look on Monika’s face only got you more heated. It was obvious she found your statement unreasonable as she let out a dry laugh. “Wow, I didn't know I couldn't spend time with my friends anymore. Why are you being so fucking clingy?”
Monika’s words felt like a bullet straight to your heart and your eyes began to water. You kept your tears at bay but the glisten in your eyes revealed the truth. “Stop it. I'm not being clingy. You agreed to come home early today and you didn't.” Your voice got dangerously low as you approached the other side of the kitchen island that Monika was behind.
“Well, sue me for wanting to have a little fun. I didn't know I had to be with you every second of the day.” Monika’s voice rose as she spewed her words covered in sarcasm. “But you're not! You're not here with me every second of the day. You're not even with me for an hour a week.” You cried out.
“So what? Just because I don't see you every day means I can't have a social life? Newsflash, I have a life outside of you, y/n.” Monika matched your volume, slightly leaning over the table.
“That’s not what I’m saying. You're not even listening to me! We're a couple, Monika! When you say you're going to be home early to spend the evening with one another, you're supposed to mean it!” No matter how loud you talked, you couldn't get through to her.
“You’re being ridiculous! Since I’m dating you, I can’t have any friends?” “That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words.” “It’s like you’re dating me to control me. Is that what it is?” You were shocked by the words that your girlfriend was saying.
Is that how she truly felt or was she just saying that from the anger? More tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you slowly shook your head. “You don’t mean that.” Monika rounded the counter to step closer to you, but it was like she was a stranger.
You couldn't recognize the woman standing in front of you. “Oh, I mean it. I've been nothing but good to you and this is how you treat me? I can't have fun with my friends and I have to be with you whenever I'm not working?” You took a couple of steps back at Monika’s words.
“Stop.” You breathed out, gripping the edge of the counter. You were starting to feel nauseous again. “Stop what? Telling the truth? It was like you came into my life to ruin it. Is that what you want?
To ruin my life? Because you are. You're making a fucking hellhole out of it.” Monika yelled and her words cut like knives. The tears started to slowly glide down your face. “Don’t be a bully. You're being a bully.” Your tone was hushed and you couldn't take your eyes off of Monika’s.
It was like they had an iron grip on you. Her walls were up, and it was clear she was in defense mode. Nothing you could say or do could bring them down.
“This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. I just wanted to spend time with you today. That's all I wanted. I didn't want to wait around like an idiot for you.” Your gaze flickered between Monika’s eyes and you saw nothing had changed.
“No, you wanted to ambush me. This was an ambush.” You let out a heavy sigh at what your girlfriend had said, wiping the tears away. “No that is not what this is. Monika, please listen to me. There's been this distance between us for the past couple of months and I've been trying so hard to be understanding-”
Monika was quick to cut you off. “What happened to make you act like this? You've never been this unbearable throughout the entirety of our relationship, so what changed?”
There was a moment of silence where you just looked down at the floor. You contemplated even bringing up today to the stranger standing in front of you. Your breaths were shallow as you looked back into Monika’s unwavering gaze.
“Do you even remember what today is?” Monika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “What? Are you going to lie and say it's your birthday? Because we both know-” This time you were the one to cut her off, your voice low and as steady as it could be given the tears you were holding back for dear life. “It's our anniversary.”
A prolonged pause occurred and the silence was deafening. You saw Monika’s eyes soften at the revelation. “Baby, I'm so sorry. With work and everything-”
“Don’t start with the bullshit excuses, Monika. I have work too, we both do. I'm not just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to come home.” Your voice was steady and you scoffed at the solemn look on Monika’s features.
There was a whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, the most prominent were agitation, sadness, hurt, and exhaustion. “I carved time out of my day to make today special and all I asked was for you to come home early, to which you agreed but didn't live up to your word.” Monika was silent now and her eyes seemed to grow glossy.
She moved closer to you, reaching to grab your hand but you moved away from her before she could do so. “C'mon, can we talk about this tomorrow? We're both tired-” You shook your head, instantly shutting down Monika’s idea.
“No, we’re going to talk about this now. Do you even realize the shit you said to me? How hurt my feelings are?” Your eyes squinted in disbelief as all Monika could do in response was swallow and spew fake apologies. You shook your head and looked at Monika. Like, really looked at her.
You still couldn't recognize the person she had become. You regained your composure and took a deep breath. It was your turn to stop being vulnerable and start building your walls back up.
“I think we should take a break.” Monika looked completely bewildered at your words. “What do you mean? No, we're not doing that. Absolutely not.” Monika grabbed your hands before you could move them away, holding them to her mouth and kissing them as she spoke.
Your eyes began to gloss over again and you shook your head, slowly pulling your hands from Monika’s grasp. “We have to. It might be that we've been together for too long, but what you said today… I know you meant it. At least a little bit.” Tears started to roll down both of your faces and Monika quickly shook her head, spewing ‘no’s’ and apologies.
Although the two of you were standing face to face, you couldn't be farther apart. You wiped her tears and stared at her before moving toward the shared bedroom. You felt horrible inside, the sick feeling that never left was more prominent. You grabbed your wallet and keys before moving back toward the main section of the apartment.
Monika was still begging you to stay, saying how she would change and how she was sorry but you couldn't stay. After tonight, there was a cement wedge pushed between you two that would take a lot of work to get rid of.
You still loved her, that was a given, but you needed some time to heal before mending your relationship. You unlocked the door and looked back at the girl.
She was still crying and you almost listened to your heart that told you to stay, but your mind was too loud. You caressed her cheek and wiped the tears that spilled, leaving her with a teary smile before leaving the apartment.
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#b1ackbunny writes#monika shin#monika prowdmon#prowdmon#street woman fighter 1#street woman fighter#monika swf#monika shin x reader#monika x reader#monika shin x fem reader#monika x fem reader#monika shin x y/n#monika x y/n#angst#shin jung woo#Spotify
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