#This is a Really Old One... that i never posted. Oops! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddiesxangel · 4 months

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Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

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#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #older!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #older!eddie munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson fluff #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fan fiction

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cloudcountry · 4 months

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SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn��t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

#auburn talks ikerev <3 #auburn's fics <3 #blanc lapin #ikerev blanc #ikerev blanc x reader #blanc lapin x reader #ikerev #ikemen revolution #cybird

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indigostudies · 3 months

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very silly post but i wanted to unwind a bit so i thought i would rate chinese endearments!

宝贝：classic, casual endearment. i call my cats this, has a similar feel to "babe" for me. 4/5, one point deducted because it's pretty basic.

宝宝：like a cutesier version of 宝贝, i would never call a romantic partner this, but it's great for pets and children. 3.5/5, points deducted because it can sound kind of trite or cringey.

亲爱的：much more formal, has a similar feel to "beloved" or "darling" to me. arguably my favourite endearment because it literally means "[one] who is an intimate love". 5/5 if an s/o called me this i would melt.

老[姓名]：this can come off as overtly lovey-dovey at times but it's also really common among married or long-term couples. it doesn't really have an english comparison but personally i think it's very sweet. it can also be used teasingly which i enjoy. 4.5/5 with 0.5 points taken off because it can sound kind of old-fashioned.

老婆/老公：an even more married version of the above; this feels much more teasing to me, though. 4/5 with one point deducted because unfortunately 老公 can also mean eunuch (oops).

(老)狐狸(精)：i've only ever heard this in dramas as a reference to a man, but it's meant to call someone sly or cunning. can be admonishing, but can also be an affectionate reproval. can also be used for women, but then to me it comes off as a bit more judgemental, so 4/5.

小哥：technically a descriptor of a young man, but i'm personally attached to this as a term of endearment, and if someone called me this i would be smitten. i think it has been gaining some popularity among chinese sapphics, especially butch lesbians/T's? but unfortunately i don't.............really use social media so i can't confirm this.

姐姐/哥哥：these are technically originally terms for older brothers/sisters, but they're also used for people of the same generation who are older than you, and can be used in a flirty way. 4/5 only because non-chinese english speakers can get kind of weird about them.

阿-/小-：personally i prefer the 阿- suffix over 小- because 小- sounds like you're talking to a child to me, but i'm aware this is very regional. not overly romantic, but can be very sweet, so i'm giving it a 3.5/5.

those are all the ones i can think of off the top of my head, but if you have any others you can think of, let me know!

#汉语 #very silly post but i hope it's interesting at least #indigo ink

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futureman · 10 months

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keep it on the low

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism

word count: 3k

a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.

Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?

Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.

You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.

And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.

You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.

Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.

The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.

“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”

He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.

You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.

You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”

He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”

You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.

Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.

“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

He doesn’t.

Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.

“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.

"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.

“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.

"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.

“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.

"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”

His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.

“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.

“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.

“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”

And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.

Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.

More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.

He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.

His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.

"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.

He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.

"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.

And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.

"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."

You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.

"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.

But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.

You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.

His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.

It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—

"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.

But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.

"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.

It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.

"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.

Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.

"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.

"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.

Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.

"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."

And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.

The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.

"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.

"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.

No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.

"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"

You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.

"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."

At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.

It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.

Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.

This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.

He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.

Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.

Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.

He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.

And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.

He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.

"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."

You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.

"I'm yours."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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gentlyweeps-world · 2 months

Text

Irregular occurrences

sequel to regular occurrences

SMAU / fic

summary: You managed to balance a relationship with a driver whilst being a Sky Sports interviewer- but you’re old affair isn’t a fan.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of cheating | suggestive tones | toxic Pierre

genre: fluff-ish

notes: I did itttt

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

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charles_leclerc 🤍🤍🤍

youruser 🫶🫶

skysportsf1 ??????

youruser whoops?

scuderiaferrari ??????

user7392 the reactions are killing me 😭😭

user9293 SAME OMG

francisca.cgomes cuties 😘😘

youruser 🤍🤍

francisca.cgomes you’re welcome 🫶

youruser thank you kika 🫶

user632 has anyone noticed that Pierre unfollowed Y/n AND CHARLES??

user632 He hasn’t liked any of her or Charles posts lately 🤨

user3729 I always thought he acted suspicious with Y/n

user0018 Y/n would never do anything with him, her and Kika are friends plus her and Charles are together

user632 still suspicious 🤷‍♀️

landonorris Hey guys…this is a little bit too random

youruser oops?

user7483 how tf is she with Charles

user7483 she’s not even pretty wtf

user7483 she’s such a pick me

user3391 And who’s the one leaving hate comments on Y/n L/n post?

user3391 So stfu and get a life 🫶

lissiemackintosh Congrats baby!!🤍

youruser tyyy 🫶

“Hey Charles..what I posted to instagram was okay right?” You ask, looking up at him from your phone, admiring how he looked basking in the sun.

You two hadn’t put out anything official, especially since you hadn’t told anyone- well Pierre knew, and Kika…but that was different.

It was sometimes nice that Charles knew about what happened with you and Pierre, but there were moments that you knew he didn’t fully trust you, which was reasonable!

But you assured him many times you only wanted him, you were tired of being the other woman, tired of empty promises from Pierre, tired of being casted aside.

“Yes it was okay cheri..you don’t need to ask..” Charles says with a chuckle, glancing over at you from his spot.

“Half of the media speculates that we were together anyway..” He adds on.

“Yeah..that’s true” You say with a small chuckle. You continue to scroll through some of the comments, mainly focused on the hate ones.

Charles catches onto that quick, and yanks your phone from your hands. “No need to care what others think..” He says, placing your phone by his, far out of reach from you.

“But…” You start to say, although Charles has you stopping mid sentence with a single look.

“Let’s just relax, yeah? Nice beautiful day out on my yacht okay?” He says with a smile, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to his side.

“Alright..” You mumble out, leaning your head on his shoulder as you two bask in the sun, the rocking of the boat slowly relaxing you.

“Yeah- yeah definitely..” You mumble out, heart racing a bit, you and Charles hadn’t really been intimate, sure you two have kissed but that was really all. You guys have only been together for maybe three months, and to be honest you were scared to do anything- after Pierre.

Mostly because with Pierre it was different, it felt great, amazing even- but it was wrong.

That was the issue, you felt guilty constantly.

“Are you still worried about Pierre?” Charles asks softly, his eyes meeting yours. You instantly feel like you’re on a different planet, his eyes are soothing and warm.

“You can tell me cheri…don’t be afraid….I’m here for you...” Charles adds as he squeezes your hand softly.

“I don’t know Charles…with him I felt so guilty, I felt like I was always the second option..”

“He’d say all these things, promise me he’d tell her and change- but he never did…”

“And I’m happy for him and Kika! I am, they are an amazing couple..but it still hurt, y’know?” You say softly, fidgeting with Charles fingers as you open up to him fully about that situation.

“I know Y/n…it’s understandable..” Charles says softly and wipes away the small tear from your cheek gently. “I will never make you feel like a second option.”

Charles smiles softly and caresses your cheek, it feels nice, it feels like he’s appreciating you for everything you have to offer.

“Thank you..” You whisper out softly with a smile, leaning into his hand.

But the tender moment is ruined- because of course it is. You can hear Charles phone vibrate with a call, and you’d only have one guess as to who it would be.

Charles lets out a sigh, moving away from you to grab his phone, “It’s Pierre..” He grumbles out, quickly answering it and getting up, starting to mutter some phrases in French to Pierre, none of it you could understand- but you did understand that it sounded heated.

After a few minutes the conversation starts to die down, but starts to get heated back up. You could tell Charles wasn’t having any of it.

“Leave us the fuck alone” Charles grumbles out then hangs up, quietly muttering a curse as he sits down next to you.

“What did he want..?” You ask out softly, sitting up. You were unsure what to say- or do. It all felt tense now.

“Don’t worry about it…it’s just Pierre being Pierre” Charles replies with a small sigh, looking out across the ocean and closing his eyes.

Charles looks over and smiles softly and the moment is back, the tension is gone and life is somewhat normal again.

“Alright…” You say with a soft smile, knowing it’s better to forget that, and move on from Pierre.

——

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” You ask Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he puts on his coat.

“I’m not sure cheri…I’ll text you though” He says with a smile, placing a kiss to your lips as he leaves his apartment, going to do some sim work.

You smile to yourself, it was nice with Charles. He was sweet and considerate, it was really nice.

You decide to busy yourself with some extra work you had to get done. Clicking away and your computer you’re pulled out of your daze when you hear a knock at the apartment door.

“Coming!” You say, moving off the couch and to the door opening it.

“Didn’t Charles tell you to leave us alone?” You say as soon as you open the door and see Pierre.

Pierre looks at you with a smug smile, his hands in his pockets, and he leans against the wall. “Well this is awkward…me here, you home alone…” Pierre replies with a smirk, his voice was like butter but there was a hidden underneath.

“Listen you should leave Pierre- what happened between us is in the past..” You say with a sigh.

“You’re with Kika and I’m with Charles, just move on please” You add on.

“Is that so?” Pierre asks raising and eyebrow and he steps in closer to you to close the distance.

“But you know how it is…I have a habit that is hard to break of coming to you when I need a bit of…stress relief.” Pierre replies with a grin, his voice is sultry and you can’t help but get butterflies.

“What we had was regular..I liked it, it’s simpler with you” Pierre adds on with a grin.

“Pierre what we had was a mistake, it can’t be regular anymore! I enjoyed it in the moment, but I felt guilty constantly!”

“You would promise me that you’d tell her, that you would break up with her! But you didn’t! So move on!” You say, your frustration growing.

“Guilt isn’t always a bad thing cheri..” Pierre replies with a smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you towards him, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

“Why do I have to let her go? Why not have more fun with you and keep her?” Pierre asks softly as he places his hand on your neck.

You feel a sick feeling start to form in your stomach, “Why- why are you doing this?” You say, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm away.

“Please just leave me alone Pierre, I don’t want you anymore, I don’t want to be casted aside anymore”

Pierre chuckles. “I like this side of you cheri.. the one where you’re feisty and defensive.” Pierre takes your hand and places it on his chest.

“How can you say you don’t want me when we have such great chemistry..all those times we spent together felt amazing…” Pierre adds on and you notice a smugness in his tone and on his face.

“You’re just jealous Pierre, now fucking get out” You say, moving him towards the door.

Pierre scrunches up his face in annoyance and looks at you. “Okay fine, I’ll leave…but I hope to see you soon cheri.” Pierre replies softly and leaves.

You’re glad he was out of your life now, but a part of you still misses him and the chemistry you two have.

No! No, you have Charles, you like Charles!

You let out a sigh and collapse onto the couch, deciding sleep was a much better option than work.

“Cheri? You awake?” You hear Charles whisper out, you feel his hand brush through your hair.

Charles’ gentle touch was soothing and peaceful, and you start to relax under his touch.

“Mhm…” You mumble out softly and your eyes flutter open. You see the smile on his face and you couldn’t feel anything but content at that moment.

Yeah. You’re happy with Charles.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

notes 🪩: I’m back and taking requests!🫶

taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @peachbly @minkyungseokie @minseok-smaus @zahhh709 @redcloudedelk @itsprashimusic @janeholt3

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tojiscumdumpster · 3 months

Text

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to.

I won.

I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing.

But fighting is all I know.

I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter.

It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else.

Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle.

She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend.

Shit, me too.

However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses.

Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

Great.

Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes.

I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

“Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

“What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

“Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask.

“You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment.

Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless.

Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him?

Me. But that’s besides the point.

A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment.

“Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself.

While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment.

“I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected.

“Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face.

She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

I’m getting hard.

Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her.

That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her.

Either way, I’ll act on it.

Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds.

“You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

“Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

“That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

“Why are you still mad at me?”

She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story.

Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

“Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise.

“Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

“Probably because you love me.”

“Probably not.”

Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty.

Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.

And she knows it.

I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me.

We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking.

“So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

“You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

“Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest.

“If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together.

How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

So—I take advantage of it.

In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss.

Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me.

The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give.

“Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss.

“Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as.

Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

“You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

“Shit, angel. I will.”

Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy.

I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me.

“Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight.

I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us.

This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers.

“Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back.

Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock. Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

“Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this.

In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual.

It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it.

I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy.

This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want.

My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

“Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her.

Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

“Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

“Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

“Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily.

My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

I’m about to come. Hard.

But I need her to come first.

“Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts.

“Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back.

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even.

And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors.

My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

“Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound.

She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me.

My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

“You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach smut #fanfic smut #renji x reader #renji x black reader #renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x black reader #bleach fanfic

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makeyoumine69 · 1 month

Text

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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ad0rechuu · 1 year

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۪ ★ ۫ MILKY WAY ୨୧

based on milky way by seohyun

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…

6mar23 | st. 09/03/23 / fn. 31/08/23

pairing. ━━━━━ college students! fans! park seonghwa, choi san, song mingi x fem! idol! reader (x idol! oc)

featuring. ━━━━━ ateez, kang seulgi (red velvet), fatou samba (black swan), park sujin aka swan (purple kiss), shin yuna (itzy), do hanse (former victon) oc, fem oc

genre. ━━━━━ smau, written, humor/crack, fluff, angst, suggestive, love square, idol/college au, strangers to friends to lovers, really slow burn, pinning, secret identity

warnings. ━━━━━ i’m not a native english speaker so my english might be a little off sometimes ! ! ! timestamps/sm numbers mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, swearing, mentions of food/sex/serious topic, kys/kms and other questionable jokes, use of pictures for yn but only for reference (only of dark skin poc used), cyber bullying, ssngs, mental illness/anxiety, mentions of alcohol/drugs. small age gaps, more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, let me know if missed smth

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is closed, spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too!) credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics n music

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SANRIO TRASH (STAR) ᜊ THE VIRGINITY CORNER (ATEEZ + YNS BBGS) ᜊ EXTRAS

PART 1. PRE TIME SKIP :

★ CH 000. prologue: HONGJOONG HAS FRIENDS?!

★ CH 001. CLONE FANTASY

★ CH 002. THE JASPER TO MY SHERLOCK

★ CH 003. SUS, VERY SUS

★ CH 004. DON’T LEAVE ME TALL FUCK

★ CH 005. EDIBLE SCENTED CANDLE

★ CH 006. MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW

★ CH 007. ONE OF THE GIRLIES

★ CH 008. SHES SO PRECIOUS!!

★ CH 009. IS YN OKAY?

★ CH 010. NO FANBOYING

★ CH 011. INTRODUCTIONS: PART I

★ CH 012. INTRODUCTIONS: PART II

★ CH 013. SUPER COOL AND HOT (RESPECTFULLY)

★ CH 014. AESPA WAS RIGHT

★ CH 015. GODDAMNIT PARK SEONGHWA

★ CH 016. WHAT THE H*CK

★ CH 017. I’M SO HASTAG SRS

★ CH 018. OPERATION: YNGYU

★ CH 019. HE’S UP TO NO GOOD

★ CH 020. PRAISE KINK ERA

★ CH 021. BAES JUST LIKE ME FR

★ CH 022. NVM Y’ALL HE RESPONDED

★ CH 023. TWO HEART EMOJIS

★ CH 024. RPS LEGEND

★ CH 025. KANG POMPOMPURIN

★ CH 026. BEGINNING OF A CHEESY ROMCOM

★ CH 027. WTFDYM

★ CH 028. IMAGINE NOT TALKING

★ CH 029. BLACK LIST SPEED RUN

★ CH 030. AS LONG AS SHE’S HAPPY

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART i )

PART 2. POST TIME SKIP :

★ CH 031. BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE

★ CH 032. AS HOT AS I EXPECTED

★ CH 033. MY BABIES (AND KIM HONGJOONG)

★ CH 034. EVEN THE YANDERES

★ CH 035. DONGSAENG ZONED

★ CH 036. A STRANGE FEELING

★ CH 037. OLD FRIENDS

★ CH 038. I DON’T THINK I’M OKAY

★ CH 039. MINGI UR A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR

★ CH 040. LOVELY

★ CH 041. STEP BY STEP

★ CH 042. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

★ CH 043. OOPS

★ CH 044. WHATDIDIDOTOMYSELF

★ CH 045. LOVE LETTERS TO LEE HYORI

★ CH 046. LOSER DOESN’T EVEN DESCRIBE IT

★ CH 047. IF ONLY SHE KNEW

★ CH 048. LE’ ASTRE

( EXTRA. STAR’S 5TH MINI ALBUM :: LE’ ASTRE )

★ CH 049. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S UNHOLY

★ CH 050. I’M ALRIGHT, I PROMISE

★ CH 051. BUTTERFLIES

★ CH 052. #STAR IS KILLING ME

★ CH 053. OK? OK! OK

★ CH 054. PURSUE HAPPINESS

★ CH 055. WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME

★ CH 056. THE TRUTH

★ CH 057. SERA WATANABE

★ CH 058. XD

★ CH 059. MILKY WAY

★ CH 060. LOVE

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART ii )

ENDING O1.

★ 00i. PERUVIAN LILIES

★ 0ii. THE PRETTIEST

ENDING O2.

★ 00i. WHAT MAKES HIM, HIM

★ 0ii. LOM(OMMY)L

ENDING O3.

★ 00i. FINAL PUZZLE PIECE

★ 0ii. MINE.

★ AFTER WORD.

1K notes · View notes

httpsuniverse · 9 months

Text

mr lover [ ben chilwell ]

— right where you left lover girl sequel, this takes place two years later!

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — ben chilwell x singer!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — romance, mentions pregnancy, google translated french . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ clearing my drafts again 😵‍💫 if you ask me, i’m obsessed with singer!reader fics lol

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, reecejames and others

benchilwell family time

view all 592 comments

user am i reading this right ?? ‘family’ time ??

user his dog clinging to y/n is the cutest thing ever

user they’re such dog parents 😭

yourusername my babyyy my babyyy

benchilwell which one?

yourusername one of you will be in a lot of pain if i say who

benchilwell 🙄

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount, cmpulisic and others

yourusername look at me, i am the favourite hooman now.

view all 826 comments

user not y/n quoting from captain phillips 😭

benchilwell once i get back home, i will take my title back

yourusername NONSENSE! you cannot dethrone the current favourite hooman

user y/n saying hooman instead of human 😭 that’s so dog momma of her

yourusername i birthed this child

benchilwell huh

yourusername huh

user pls he looks so comfy on y/n’s lap, he’s obviously not a lap dog

yourusername if he fits, he sits

user agreed 🤝

user why did all this time i thought y/n was a cat person

user she literally loves any kind of animal 😭 she adopted a ferret when she was a kid

yourusername omg !! mr fuzzy wuzzy was my childhood pet 🥹 maybe i should adopt another ferret

benchilwell what? no way

yourusername heheheheheheheeh

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, judebellingham and others

benchilwell home is where the heart is.

view all 289 comments

yourusername but god i love the english

benchilwell you know i love a london boy

yourusername 🫣🫣

user ben at this point, you really are the extra hooman

benchilwell i cant blame him

yourusername i told you i birthed this dog

benchilwell 😂

yourprivate

liked by masonspriv, reecespriv, mikaspriv and 23 others

yourprivate hehe oops

view all comments

mikaspriv what the fuck is this how i find out ?!?!?!!

yourprivate heheheheheheheeheh

mikaspriv IM PACKING MY BAGS AND HOPPING ON THE NEXT PLANE

benspriv little chilly 🔜

masonspriv i never wouldve known if i hadnt opened this account

reecespriv me too mate

christiansprivme three

jackspriv me four

benspriv me five

yourpriv what

benspriv what

yourusername and benchilwell

liked by masonmount, chelseafc, england, madders and 8,826,937 others

yourusername we’re getting him a human in a few months 🙈

view all 399,826 comments

benchilwell babe i thought we already agreed what the caption will be

yourusername mines funnier

benchilwell 🙄

masonmount who thought that covering his eyes would be cute

yourusername mine. do you have any problem with that? 😀

masonmount i don’t maam, it’s a great idea, very very cute!

user this is the cutest announcement 😭

user as a fellow dog mummy, i approve of this post!

weratedogs 100/10 for being such a good boy and will be the goodest big brother!

user as a y/n fan since debut, i feel OLD (we’re the same age)

yourusername omg since debut album?!?!?! 😳 we have to meet like RIGHT NOW

user y/n went from writing how she’s stuck in the past, to loving herself and loving a new person 🥹 now she’s probably gonna write something about her baby ... just thinking about it rn makes me emotional

— ❤️ by yourusername

england congratulations benchilwell and yourusername! 🤍

chelseafc shall we make a onesie for baby chilwell?

yourusername omg YES PLEASE

benchilwell 🤦🏻‍♂️

yourusername JUST IMAGINE HOW CUTE OUR BABY WILL BE ON THAT ONESIE

benchilwell

liked by prodbymika, masonmount, madders, england and others

benchilwell eleanor chilwell is here 🩷👨🏻‍🍼 you did good mama, i’m proud and grateful to you, yourusername. i love you both

comments on this post have been limited.

yourusername thank you dada, we love you too 🩷

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, charles_leclerc and 3,826,929 others

yourusername the happiest i’ve ever been 🩷 merci pour tout mon benji. je t'aime toi et eleanor de tout mon coeur. (thank you for everything, my benji. i love you and eleanor with all my heart)

view all 150,729 comments

benchilwell 🩷🩷

user several chapters missed but i’m glad to see you so happy y/n 🥹

user i was surprised when they announced she was pregnant, bit i was more surprised to know that they’re married now 😭

user the hand placements of ben 😭

user i’m so alone yall

user AAA y/n 🥺

user literally went from being dog parents to real parents 🥺🩷

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────────

yourusername and benchilwell

2,836,729 likes

yourusername darling, don’t you ever grow up... just stay this little. happy birthday my sweet eleanor🩷 mama (with the help of dada) wrote a song for you baby, me and dada loves you sooo much. never grow up out now ✨

view all 238,861 comments

benchilwell growing up too fast, my ellie bear 🥲

user ellie bear... 😭 bens such a girl dad

user stopp im emo im not even a parent

user omg eleanor looks so cute!!

user milks expensive, im too young to be a mum

user my daily mantra every time i see ben or y/n post eleanor

user they have a little ballerina 🥺

user 4 years old already? 😭 time really flew by omg

yourusername i know right 🥺

user y/n and her happy ending 🥺 CURRENTLY TAKING A BATH WITH MY TOASTER RN

#ben chilwell fluff #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #ben chilwell scenario #ben chilwell x you #ben chilwell x y/n #football imagine #football x y/n #football x you #football x reader #ben chilwell instagram au #football instagram au

819 notes · View notes

tojifile · 4 months

Note

Hey, can I make a request for your event?

Fyodor x fem!reader, except he's madly in love with her but doesn't accept it bc he thinks it's useless :)

@Fyodor Dostoevsky . . . (＾-＾)

Tags: smitten!fyodor, fluff, angst if you squint, gn!reader, domestic Fyodor, kinda ooc, vol 14+ doesn’t exist, yandere themes if you get 400+ graded glasses

A/N: Hello anon !! I’m so sorry this took so long, probably 2-4 months (?) I’ve been so busy with school that I just didn’t have time for requests. I’ll treat my fics like those “mafia!dazai who…” type of posts, if that makes sense. I know it’s a big change from my old writing style but I really hope you would still like it :))

smitten!fyodor who met you while walking around Yokohama. He asked you for directions one day and as faith would have it that was the exact place you were going to as well. Although, he didn’t actually need directions, he just wanted to test his skills in deceit.

“Excuse me miss, pardon me for being a bother. Could you please tell me where the nearest train is?” You softly smiled at the gentleman who had gotten your attention. “Of course, I was just heading there myself, you could just follow me if you’d like.”

smitten!fyodor who was fond of the way you spoke to him in such a polite manner. It was endearing to have someone be so courteous (bare minimum, I know).

smitten!fyodor whose voice you couldn’t forget. Softer than silk yet even the sun itself would revolve around its gravity.

smitten!fyodor who “accidentally” bumps into you from time to time. It’s been going on for several months now and during the first few times you jokingly accused him of stalking you.

“Fyodor-san? This is the fourth time this month, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me!” You teased. He responded to your joke with a small chuckle.

smitten!fyodor who denies feeling anything for you since he thinks it would hinder his plans for a better world. He constantly tells himself that it’ll pass, but each day he spends with you feels like a dream.

smitten!fyodor who reassures himself that this was all part of his master plan; that you were just another pawn in his epic chess match with Dazai. Surely someone as simple as you couldn’t destroy his plans, right?

smitten!fyodor who tells himself that keeping you happy is all part of his mission to save the world. When he’s overthinking his actions around you he tells himself that he only keeps you happy because a world where you’re sad confuses and frustrates him—oops, wrong thought!

What frustrates him further is the fact that he can no longer tell himself that you’re just a pawn. He never has internal struggles, so how could you do this to him? For years and years he chased his ideals. He tried to attain the unattainable, he never thought something as simple as affection could be that unattainable thing.

smitten!fyodor who saw you on a date with somebody else and he felt like that was God’s way of telling him that he should continue to fulfill his mission rather than chase someone who clearly doesn’t like him back.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

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neoraso · 5 months

Text

survive the night | ksw

summary: you've had a crush on sunwoo for years, but what happens when he blurs the lines of your friendship? content: ftl, slightest angst but it's over in 4 seconds, happy ending, female reader. nonidol!sunwoo nonidol! reader wc: 5.3k an: this took me a bit to finish and it’s my first full length, i hope you enjoy!! let’s talk about it too~ do not repost or rework/copy any of my posts here or on other sites

The wind bit your cheeks as you hurried your steps towards the apartment complex ahead of you. It was nearing 9 p.m. but Sunwoo had called you an hour earlier asking if you could come through for some drinks and games with a few of the guys. In that very short time you had retouched your makeup and gone through four outfits before deciding on a hoodie and sweatpants Sunwoo had given to you because they were “too small” for him. Maybe it was poor taste to wear his old clothes to his house but honestly, they were comfortable and- you might have been completely head over heels for your friend, no big deal.

Lost in thought, you were almost surprised when you looked up and realized you had already reached the sleek, silver door and raised your hand to knock. Sunwoo had given you the passcode months ago when he was too busy gaming to get up and let you in, but you hadn’t used it since because it felt like you were overstepping some kind of boundary. Of course, that never stopped him from breaking and entering your home on various occasions, always scaring the hell out of you but you could never stay mad at him long.

Before long, Younghoon opened the door for you with a bright smile.

“Oh hey, we thought you were the food delivery”

“No,” you replied, matching his smile. “Sorry to be a disappointment. Who all ended up coming? Sunwoo said he invited everyone.”

“Chanhee and Changmin are home, Juyeon and Jacob and Kevin came. No one is really drinking yet. Maybe they’re waiting for you.” He said with a laugh.

You left your shoes at the door and walked down the hall with Younghoon trailing behind you into a very raucous living room. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own conversations and you were such a familiar face, your presence almost went unnoticed. Of course, Sunwoo was the first face you saw (well actually the first back-of-a-head), but before you could greet him you tripped on Kevin’s outstretched foot.

“Oops, sorry Y/N, is the food here?”

“No Kev, that was me at the door.” You said with a playful roll of your eyes.

At the sound of your voice, Sunwoo perked up and walked over to you with his arms wide open.

“Oh look everyone, it’s my mini me!!”

The sudden attention on you made your cheeks burn and it only got worse when Sunwoo’s taller, lithe frame wrapped around yours. You lagged a bit but snapped to and gently patted his back. He pulled away but stopped when his face was near your ear.

“Are you wearing perfume? It smells nice. Come sit with me, we’re gonna play a game soon.”

Suddenly feeling faint, you were glad to follow him to the couch and sit down. This was going to be a long night.

Later into the night after your bellies were full of food and too much alcohol, you thought you might have entered into some hellish realm. Sunwoo had been glued to you all night, keeping his arm on the couch behind you and hitting your shoulder or your leg when he laughed a little too hard. To make things exponentially worse, he kept leaning down to whisper side comments to you, his hot breath hitting your cheek a detriment to your sanity. While physical affection between you and any of your friends wasn’t uncommon, something seemed different tonight that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The only natural course of action was to keep drinking.

After another hour you were definitely more than tipsy thanks to two rounds of ‘Never Have I Ever’ and an even a special game of ‘Truth or Truth’ (thank you Kevin!). There was some respite when Changmin asked you to get him some water from the kitchen. You enjoyed being with your friends of course but Sunwoo’s proximity tonight was becoming unbearable. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it other than friendly affection, and yet, you could help fantasizing about a day where he made an actual move on you.

The cup of water you were filling spilled over your hand just as Changmin and Chanhee called your name-sounding a bit more like geese than tipsy boys. Taking a deep breath, you decided you couldn’t hide in the kitchen forever. You dragged your feet back to the living room and carefully handed Changmin his water.

“Did I look extra thirsty or something? Why the hell is it so full?”

“Be grateful.” You grumbled.

He ignored your attitude and sipped it anyways.

You plopped onto the couch and instantly an unnaturally warm pair of arms were around you.

It was Sunwoo, hugging you for no good reason that you could come up with. He squeezed you once then pulled away and grinned at you, making your face heat up more than the KGBs he had provided for the occasion. It was almost enraging that no one seemed to notice that you were about to become undone, this was practically abuse. Finding your voice, and sounding more coherent than you felt, you asked him,

“What was that for??”

“You were just so cute! I couldn’t help it.” He let go of you, putting his arm back behind you leaving your mind in shambles.

He couldn’t help it? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He had bragged earlier that his alcohol tolerance had gone up, but that seemed to be a lie because why else would he have been so careless?

You spent the next couple of hours trying not to fall asleep which was relatively easy considering how loud the boys still were at such a time of night. Eventually Sunwoo took note of your state and patted your leg.

“Are you tired?”

You nodded and rubbed your eyes. “Yeah, I better start walking home.”

Horrified was the only way to describe the look on his face. “Walk home?! It’s way too late and I can’t come with you, too cold. Just go sleep in my room I’ll come soon, I doubt the guys will stay much longer.”

You debated this. It would not be the first time you had spent the night together, but usually he slept on the floor or the couch. Now he was implying joining you and that was just ridiculous.

“Oh, it’s ok, I don’t have any of my products with me…”

Chanhee, who had apparently been eavesdropping, chimed in from the floor with his eyes closed. “You can borrow my makeup remover and skincare.”

Sunwoo beamed at this. “See? You already have a toothbrush here, just go lay down please, you look pitiful.”

You hesitated. This would most likely create 1000 more problems for you and your feelings for Sunwoo. The worst part of it was, you couldn’t tell where he was coming from. Was he being a kind friend or did he have some sort of hidden agenda? You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t a player, so it didn’t make sense for him to be doing anything unkind to you, and yet…Whatever. It was too late to care anymore.

After bidding everyone a good night (with many whines in return), you stumbled down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You examined your drunken reflection, sighing as you swiped away your smudged mascara. What did you get yourself into?

After cleansing and moisturizing, you found your way to Sunwoo’s room. There was practically only room for a bed- a small one at that- and you found yourself wondering if you even wanted him to sleep with you or not. While it would be everything you imagined before sleeping pretty much every night, it would haunt you forever if he meant nothing by it.

You were tired, but as you laid there in his bed with his scent permeating everything, anticipating him coming in to do… whatever it was he planned to do, you found yourself tossing and turning. Honestly, you wanted to cry. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions and anxiety that had built up over the night. Going home wasn’t an option, so you sighed, accepting your fate and tried to sleep.

After what seemed like ten hours, Sunwoo finally cracked open the door, probably thinking you were asleep. He shuffled his way to his dresser and you peeked your eyes open then tried to avert them away from him taking his hoodie off. Before he turned around, you quickly shut your eyes and turned over. You heard him sigh behind you and felt the bed slowly dip with his weight. He adjusted the blanket over you and dragged his hand across your side before bringing his arm back to his chest. The distance between you (or lack thereof) was killing you. Regardless, you tried to control your breathing so as not to give away that you were still very much awake. The spot he had touched felt as though he had electrocuted you. It was heartache.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out and could tell he was asleep. You gathered the courage to turn around and face him.

You’d always thought he looked a little goofy when he slept, mouth slightly open, bangs messy. But tonight, you felt the weight of your heart.

His hair’s grown out you thought absentmindedly, reaching up to move a strand out of his eyes. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his full lips were pursed against the pillow. Before you could help it, tears sprang to your eyes. There was not much longer you could go without confessing, or distancing yourself. This was just too much to bear. However, the thought of confessing brought on another wave of anxiety thinking about your friendship ending if he didn’t feel the same.

He had been with you since high school, had stuck by you in all your hard times as well as the good ones, consoled you after breakups; you were intertwined. You had always heard men and women can’t be friends and thought you two were the sole exception. That was, until your freshman year of college.

You remembered that time not too fondly. Keeping up with classes and assignments was stressful, but you had Sunwoo who thankfully got accepted to your same university. He was busy on the school’s soccer team but had always made time for you, bringing you coffee on your study dates, cheering you up on your rough days, it meant everything to you. Around winter break, while you two studied for finals (which usually meant him watching YouTube while you studied alone), he confessed he had a crush on a girl in one of his classes and asked you for advice on how to ask for her number. You both had had crushes in high school and it never bothered you when he would talk to other girls, but this time had been different. What had changed in you?

You thought it would be a small fling but they ended up dating for a year. It was agonizing watching him put his everything into someone else. She never liked you, complaining you and Sunwoo were too close. He tried to keep in touch with you but you saw much less of him than you had in the four years of knowing him.

Eventually she cheated on him. You remembered the dark circles under his eyes when he had knocked on your door the day they broke up. He didn’t say anything, just hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder. In all the time you had known him he had never cried in front of you, it infuriated you to think he had given his heart to someone so careless and vile. You never forgot the way he looked at you when he retold his last conversation with his ex.

“She told me it didn’t matter that she cheated, because my heart was with someone else the whole time. I think she meant you.”

You knew it wasn’t his intention to blame you, but you carried the guilt for months. Not guilty of her parting words and their implication, but guilt in the satisfaction you had for being so important to him. So much so that you were a threat to other women interested in him. It was a sick “If I can’t have him, no one can” mentality and you knew it wasn’t fair to him so for the next few years you resigned yourself to the loyal best friend role.

When you tried to branch out and pursue other guys, Sunwoo was always supportive. When things didn’t work out with other prospects- often because you wouldn’t cut off Sunwoo when they asked- he always ruffled your hair and sighed.

“At least we have each other, right?”

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you rolled to stare at the ceiling.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but you woke up abruptly and in an odd position.

Then you realized you were being held tightly against Sunwoo. Somehow in the night he had moved his arm under your pillow and had his other arm tucked against your waist, his forehead pressed against the back of your neck.

What the absolute hell?

This was too far for you, still it felt so nice- and natural, as if you were meant to fit together like this forever. This was everything you had dreamed of for years (albeit under different circumstances). Clearly, he did this in his sleep, so you decided to get up before he woke up too and got embarrassed.

You carefully lifted his arm off you and crawled to the end of the bed. He looked so adorable like this, you almost wanted to take a picture before realizing you never wanted to remember this day again.

Tiptoeing your way down the hall, you hoped everyone was still asleep like Kevin who was snoring on the couch. Just as you were about to walk past Chanhee’s room, he opened the door, making you jump

“You scared me Chanhee!” you sharply whispered. “You scared ME. Why are you up so early?”

You checked the time on your phone: 8:12 a.m.

“I’m starting to get a headache. I need some hangover soup. And coffee. ASAP.” You groggily replied, voice still hoarse from just waking up.

“I thought we could order it and eat together? Why are you in such a rush?” He questioned you. “Um, I have some errands to run. Sorry, I’ll text you!” To be fair, you did have errands and the first one was to get away from this house.

“Did something happen?” Chanhee was always good at reading you, but now it was starting to feel like an interrogation.

“Nope!” you lied, “I’ll text you!”

Before he could say anything else, you brushed past him and quickly put your shoes on, feeling like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The following days were not fun to say the least. The afternoon after you left, Sunwoo and Chanhee texted you multiple times throughout the day to ask if you were alright (Chanhee was a bit excessive). You insisted to them that you were just busy – which was true, you were busy avoiding Sunwoo, rotting in bed, suffering from mental anguish, etc. etc.

The next day, Sunwoo asked if you wanted to go to lunch with him and Hyunjae. While any other day you would’ve gone without hesitation, just the thought of Sunwoo was torturous, and so you politely declined with another excuse. Maybe it would’ve been better if he stopped trying, and you might’ve wished for it. But you knew that if he did, you would be the first person to cry themselves to death. It was a pretty wretched situation that you had put yourself in. This could easily be resolved if you just talked to him, but the idea was simply too terrifying. You had never been good at expressing your emotions out of fear of causing conflict, but this was different.

You realized you were in love with him. There was no going back and you were terrified.

After a week you were invited out with the group- and you decided you’d had enough crying and worrying. Sunwoo’s texts had dwindled to radio silence once he got sick of your dry replies. You didn’t know how you could show your face, but either way you just had to suck it up, meet your friends and put your feelings aside for Sunwoo’s sake.

This was easier said than done as you contemplated cancelling at least six times in the hour it took you to get ready. It was just barbecue and drinks, it was supposed to be fun. Maybe it would be but you didn’t know what to expect from Sunwoo. Would he be mad? Or act like nothing was wrong when it clearly was? You supposed there was only one way to find out.

When you got to the restaurant you spotted Chanhee first with an empty seat beside him.

“Is anyone sitting here?” You asked timidly.

“Oh hi, no I saved the seat for you.”

Something about his tone seemed off and made the sinking feeling in your gut feel ten times heavier. You looked around the table, greeting everyone and it didn’t take long for you to notice the absence in the group.

“Is Sunwoo in the bathroom or something?” you whispered to Chanhee.

“No, I don’t think he’s coming, he thinks you hate him.” His response was rather curt and made you feel like the walls were closing in around you.

“Oh…” was all you could muster.

“Do you? Hate him I mean. It seemed like whatever happened when you stayed the night completely made you stay away from him- and all of us.”

Awesome. So not only had you burnt the bridge between you and the only man you’ve ever loved, but you had also pushed away all of your closest friends too.

Hyunjae abruptly interrupted your thoughts. “Where’s Sunwoo? I thought he’d be anywhere you would be.” He looked at you so innocently, which relieved you. At least no one else knew something was up.

“Oh I … I’m not sure… I-“

“Hey what did I miss?” the familiar voice startled you at first, then sent an instinctual calmness through you.

You turned and looked at Sunwoo, trying to express your pain, your guilt. He didn’t even glance at you.

It stung and it took everything in you not to get up and walk out. But you stayed in your seat so you didn’t make a scene.

You spent the evening in silence, only speaking when spoken to and, to your dismay, Sunwoo seemed to be doing the same. After a while, you finally made eye contact for a split second and felt your eyes prick with tears. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you could barely make it there without breaking down. This was not the time or the place to be having a meltdown. Seeing him in front of you brought all the feelings you had tried to repress to the surface and it was too much.

After calming down a bit and erasing your tear tracks as best as you could, you returned to the table. Leaning down, you whispered in Chanhee’s ear that you weren’t feeling well and were going home. Younghoon had lost rock paper scissors and was paying, so there was no reason you couldn’t leave.

You hurried out of the building and paused outside, breathing in the crisp air. Hailing a taxi, you finally let everything spill over, probably making the driver extremely uncomfortable but you couldn’t really be bothered to care.

What were you going to do?

You reached home exhausted beyond belief. At least you’d gotten a meal, you thought dejectedly. Unfortunately, there was no plan for what you’d do when you got home. Any more crying seemed like a one-way ticket to Drowningville, but your mind still ran rampant. You could call one of your girlfriends, Mia knew about your crush and had consoled you through the last couple of years. But just as you picked up your phone, someone knocked on your door.

This was unusual. But then, it could be someone from your building management.

You weren’t stupid, you stood on the balls of your feet to look through the peephole and the sight in front of you made your breath catch.

It was him.

He reached up to knock again so you quickly unlocked and opened the door without thinking any further.

Both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes rimmed red and his stare intense.

He spoke first.

“Can I come in?”

You opened the door wordlessly, not really by choice, you were completely caught off guard.

Feeling the tears pooling again, you cursed yourself for being so weak and looked down at your feet. Suddenly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“What is wrong? What did I do? Everything was fine and then it wasn’t. I want my Y/N back.”

His whole expression was pleading and you felt so selfish for running away from your problems again.

“Do you want the whole truth, or the nice version?” You knew he wouldn’t, but you hoped he’d choose the latter option so you could white lie your way out of this situation. He let go of your face to tug your hair lightly and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“What do you think?”

“Ok fine.” You huffed. “I got freaked out the other night when I slept in your room. It just felt… like we were crossing lines and I know I’m being dramatic because it was just cuddling but it’s different for me. I shouldn’t have run away and I feel really bad about blowing off the rest of the guys, but you especially. You know you’re my closest …friend and I didn’t want to lose you but I didn’t know what to do because like I said-“

You suddenly stopped because he dropped his hands from your shoulders and looked away. Honestly, he looked pissed.

Nice, you thought I’ve ruined everything and I haven’t even told him I liked him yet. How much worse could this night get?

“Y/N.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you.” “I know, we’re friends”

“We’re friends… but when you say it’s different for you, what exactly do you mean?”

Now you were starting to sweat, noticing the way he held back a smile. Was he going to make you spell it out like some kind of sadist?

“I mean…It means more to me than just that kind of skinship. Especially when I…”

“When you what?” Now he was smirking and it was starting to anger you.

“Sunwoo…”

“We’ll leave it for tonight. As long as I know you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you I just-“

He pulled you into his arms, his hoodie had faint remnants of his cologne and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he rested his chin on top of your head. His chest rose with a deep inhale and then just as quickly as he grabbed you, he let you go. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him clenching his fist, he turned to you with a lopsided smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” “What if I was busy?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

Waking up feeling more rested than you had in a while, your mind wandered to last night. After Sunwoo’s unceremonious appearance (and exit), you had showered in a daze and immediately knocked out into a dreamless sleep.

Now all you had to fear was his threat of seeing you today.

There was no warning or even a text to let you know when this man was ever deciding on showing up. It was only 10 a.m., Sunwoo usually got up after 11 so it could be any time really. Thankfully, you had some time off work for the holidays, so you relished in your leisurely time putting your face and clothes on. You went about your day as normal: eating, watching YouTube, online shopping. All lame distractions from what you were anticipating. It wasn’t until 5:30 when he texted you.

.sunwoo🦝 : if you’re not already ready - get to it, I’ll be over in 30

So pushy, you could only laugh to yourself. It was odd, you thought, how the trauma of the last week was erased by a simple conversation and a hug from Sunwoo. You supposed it had always been like this, pain followed by a soothing only he could provide. He was your confidant, your rock, your safety. Whatever happened tonight was ok with you as long as you could keep him in your life.

Soon enough you heard your door open from your bedroom so you went to greet him. He met you with a rather awkward smile and hands politely behind his back which threw you off- you had never been uncomfortable around each other. Your smile quickly dropped,

“What’s wrong?” you prodded.

“Nothing!” he tried to assuage you with a laugh that sounded a little shaky.

You narrowed your eyes before looking back at his arms hiding something behind his back.

“What are you holding? You’re starting to freak me out…” You might have to forward your medical bill to him the way he constantly had your blood pressure rising. You needed him to get on with whatever he made you wait all day for.

“Well, it’s… well.” He stopped talking and brought his hands forward holding out a bouquet of sunflowers, chamomile and dahlias. You stood there for a couple seconds not understanding what was going on. “These are for you. As an apology for upsetting you, and, well I had something to say…” He trailed off, “Are you just going to stand there like a statue all night? Don’t you have a vase or something to put these in? I don’t want them to die, you know I can’t take care of plants.”

Reaching forward, your fingers brushed his as you took the flowers and felt like you were buzzing. The sweet gesture completely left you dazed, still convinced something was up.

“These are… for me?” you asked a bit dumbly. Before he could reply, you turned to walk to the kitchen.

“Yes, I thought it would be- well I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” His eyes followed your figure to you opening a cabinet to grab a vase that was just out of your reach. Quickly making his way over to you, he stood behind you to grasp it from the shelf. Your breath caught and your heart thumped a little too loudly when you felt his hand lightly rest on your waist as he took the vase and set it on the counter. Thankfully, he moved out of the way for you to fill it with water and put in the flowers trying to regain control of your breathing. The arrangement brightened up the space and reminded you of him- bright and sweet and lovely. You couldn’t imagine him going into a flower shop and picking these out, much less picking them out for you. The thought was a little funny but not funny enough…

Bringing you out of your reverie he softly made his way to you again and leaned against the counter. “You’re so silent I don’t like it.”

“Sorry I just don’t understand…” “I know,” he cut you off, “I just – I don’t know what I was thinking the other night. I’d blame it on the alcohol but really I was just being selfish. Things changed for me a while ago but I didn’t know to approach you. I always loved you but at some point, I started to realize just how much you mean to me. You’ve always taken care of me, cheered me on, been there for me. And then…when you went ghost on me, I panicked, I knew then I couldn’t live without you. I needed you to be mine, not as a best friend but as something more- I mean I feel so much more for you. I hoped you felt the same but I just couldn’t tell with the way you ran away from me. But then last night I felt like I was pressuring you to confess so I wanted to say it first. I like you, please give me a chance to take care of you. I want to be with you as long as you’ll let me.”

Throughout his monologue, you could barely hear him over your blood pumping in your ears and you felt a bit faint. This was everything you’ve wanted for over four years and it was finally coming true- you couldn’t believe this was real life. Your mind kept replaying him saying I’ve always loved you…

“Can you please say something.” He looked a little stern, but moved his hand gently to cup your cheek, stroking the skin there.

“Sunwoo…” He dropped his hand, looking at you with pleading eyes like he was anticipating your rejection. Grabbing his hand, you continued, “You must know how I feel, I’ve wanted you for so long. Please don’t tell me this is a joke.”

“I would never joke about this, you know I treasure your heart. I’ve always protected you. Even when you dated all those losers-“

“You dated losers too.”

“I know that. I couldn’t figure out why I was never satisfied, but I would always compare them to you and I chose our friendship every time.”

You could feel his sincerity and grabbed the fabric of his shirt at his thin waist.

“So… you really want to be with me?”

“More than anything.” He grabbed your face in his hands, just to look at you. It was so tender you wanted to cry. Again. Maybe there was something wrong with your tear ducts… Softly, he spoke up again.

“Can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to for so long.” All you could do was slowly nod and he stepped towards you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your temple, your cheek and finally pressed his lips against yours. You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them up to grab the hair at his nape, pressing him tighter against you. He kissed you twice more then moved to kiss your cheek again, squishing your face to purse your lips and kiss you again. You felt like you could black out as he ran his lips across your jawline, kissing just under your ear as he whispered an apology, finally pulling away.

Breathless, you replied “No need to apologize.” You moved your hands back to his shoulders, and tried not to look at his mouth, glossy from your lip balm and plump from his affections. As he ran his tongue over his lips and slightly smirked you thought,

He will be the death of me.

“Well…” trying to disperse the intense energy in the air you turned to look at the flowers again. “These are really pretty, thank you.”

“Well the lady at the shop helped a lot. Honestly I wanted to get you more gifts but I thought if you rejected me I would have to jump out of your window to escape the humiliation.”

Sighing, you faced him again.

“Honestly Sunwoo, how could you think I would ever reject you??”

“I don’t know!! Damn, I don’t know why it took me so long to admit my feelings. I always hated your boyfriends-“

“All two of them.” You reminded him with an eye roll.

“Ok well still. I hated all two of them.” “How do you think I felt watching you dote on other girls? Being so affectionate, writing songs for them…”

“You were always my inspiration. It was easier to write about someone I had a deeper connection with and that was always you.” “Well now I’m angry.” You pulled away and crossed your arms.

A look of panic washed over his face. “Angry with me already? We can’t start like this. Y/N, even though I didn’t see it quickly enough, we have so much time ahead of us.”

Looking at love itself, you pulled him in for another kiss.

You could never stay mad at him long.

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