#sadly i've run out of names

[makeyoumine69]

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

[ashwhowrites]

Perv! Eddie x cheerleader! Reader, what if perv! Eddie went to cheer practice so he can see cheerleader! Reader, and he does that a lot, after two weeks of him doing that she confronts him, and that ends up in reader going to Eddie's trailer just to smoke and have sex with him (maybe this could be enemies to lovers?)

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. THERE IS NO REAL SMUT! I did add some dirty talk and making out. The ending can be led into smut, but I did not write it. I hope that is okay <3

Give me a P! E! V! E! R! T!

Eddie wasn't afraid to admit he hated the popular crowd it was all he talked about. He refused to attend any games or anything with school spirit.

But then a new girl showed up. And she caught Eddie's eye immediately. He could feel his jeans tighten just looking at her. He craved to know what her skin tasted like, how her hair smelled, and if her cunt was a pretty pink like her lip gloss.

He tried to zone out the cheerleader squad as they talked through science class. But when he saw her walk up, she introduced herself and he learned her name.

Y/N....Y/N....he could already see himself panting out her name as his hand wrapped around his cock.

Then she asked to try out for the team. That's when Eddie gave cheerleading a chance.

~~~

After school, he wandered off to the gymnasium. He could hear girls counting all together and the sounds of their hands clapping together. He stood near the door, trying his best to stay hidden in the dark hallway. He looked through the small window, he searched until he saw her.

He smirked once he spotted her, a small skirt and tight tank top. Her hair was thrown up and he imagined holding her ponytail as she gagged on his cock. His hand slowly slipped into his jeans, he palmed his throbbing cock as she bent over. The tight material hugged her frame perfectly. He imagined kneeling behind her, his tongue massaging her cunt as she shook.

He felt himself shudder when she looked in his direction. She squinted as she tried to see if someone was there. But she snapped back to practice when Chrissy called out.

~~~

For the next few weeks, Eddie went to every practice. His eyes watched her and her only. He wasn't sure what was so different about her that made her special.

He thought he was getting away with it. He had no idea that Y/N caught him that first day, and every day after that.

After every cheerleading practice, he'd run off to the bathroom, no need to explain what he did in there. This time, Y/N followed behind. She kept a few feet away when he went into the bathroom. She waited patiently for him to finish whatever he was doing. She planned to follow him to his house and confront him. If he wanted to stalk her, she'd stalk him right back.

~~~

She pulled into the trailer park, many feet behind Eddie to not look suspicious. She parked a few blocks down. By the time he went inside, she was walking up his driveway.

She pounded on his door, she couldn't believe he had the nerve to spy on her. He was a pervert and disgusting. She didn't even want to think about what he thought when he watched her.

Eddie tried his best to hide his fear when he opened the door to see Y/N. She looked pissed, her arms crossed and her right foot smacking against the concrete.

"What in the hell do you think you are doing?" She spazzed.

"Um? Just getting home?" Eddie said in a duh tone.

"No! I mean why in the hell are you spying on me during cheer practice?! I've seen you every day staring through the tiny window in the door. Who the hell even are you? Are you in high school? Or do you sneak in and watch young girls like a fucking creep?"

"I'm Eddie Munson, and sadly I've been stuck in high school longer than necessary. And I don't sneak in to watch young girls, I sneak in to watch you." His tone dropped as he spoke. His brown eyes had no shame in looking her up and down.

Was it weird she felt flattered? Now that she was up close with him, she realized he was attractive.

"That's gross!" She gasped

"Look! I'm sorry! I think you're insanely attractive and I tend to go extreme. Can I offer you something to make this go away? Money? Weed?"

She went to protest but honestly, free weed sounded great.

~~~

Two hours later she was on Eddie's couch, smoking another joint as they talked about random things. As her sober thoughts went out the window, so did her negative thoughts on Eddie.

"So...when you spied on me, what kind of things were you thinking about?" She muttered she felt a little bit of embarrassment for wanting to know. This guy was a pervert and admitted to being. But here she was asking what he thought about her.

"Oh pretty girl," he teased, knocking her chin with his knuckle. "You expect to bend over in a tiny skirt and not expect my dick to get hard?"

"Um I guess?"

"Did you expect me to think about bending you over myself?" He asked, moving closer to her body. She eyed his movements.

"No" she squeaked out

He moved closer

"Did you expect me to think about shoving my tongue in that pretty wet pussy?" He whispered his nose against hers.

"Nah uh."

"Did you expect me to watch you and fuck my hand until it's covered in sticky cum. Then yanking you out of practice, pushing you to your knees, and making you suck my hand clean?" She felt his words smack her lips, that's how close he got in a matter of seconds.

"Do you expect me to kiss you?"

"Yes," she said, her heart raced at the sick smirk that crossed his lips.

"Oh? Is that right? Is someone turned on? Me being a pervert and jerking my dick off to you makes you feel special and desired?" He mocked, but she didn't care.

Her lungs burned. Her throat burned. And fuck, her cunt ached to be touched.

"Please"

His lips were on hers before she finished begging. His breath tasted of weed and beer, and she liked it. She climbed on his lap, pushing his shoulders back as she deepened the kiss.

She didn't want slow and romantic sex. She wanted to be used like his fantasies. She wanted him to fuck her with his perverted hands, his abused cock, and gross thoughts. She didn't care if he jerked off to her like she was the cover of a porno magazine.

She wanted to be desired, wanted, and fuck it- she wanted to be his only wet dream. In a way, she loved the power she had on him. Out of everyone, he fixated on her.

She whimpered as his tongue explored her mouth. His hands touching her everywhere with no goal in mind.

Maybe she was just as perverted as he was to be okay with it all.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #perv!eddie x cheerleader reader #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x female reader #eddie munson x cheerleader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut x female reader #Eddie munson smut

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

#ghostheartfelt #ghostheartfelt writing #simon ghost x reader #mw2 smut #ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghostheartfelt ;; 👻 #ghostheartfelt writing ;; 👻

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Out of My League

————————————————————————-

Summary: Flashback. The story of how you and Joe came to be. Years before marriage and your little family.

Warnings: none, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Beginning of… Into The Mystic

A/N: Joe is a senior in high school and you are a junior. It's your first year at Athens HS! Also, most of these students' names are made up.

————————————————————————-

August, 2014

(Joe’s pov)

“Yo! Joey!” - Zach

I turned around to see one of my best friends running up to me.

“First day of senior year!” - Zach

“Yup! Just think about it, we’re like the big dogs now.” - Joe

“Ya know it. I heard that there's this really hot new chick coming from Kentucky.” - Zach

“Well, I don't want any part of that. I've got enough going on with football and schoolwork. Don't be surprised if my next girlfriend is in college.” - Joe

“Damn dude, that was pretty forward. You haven't even seen her yet. This could be your Juliette, Romeo!” - Zach

“I highly doubt it.” - Joe

We rounded the corner to find a few more of the football guys and a few of their girlfriends with them.

“Yeah, her name is y/n.” - Cassidy

“Who is?” - Joe

After making my presence known, Cassidy turned around and rolled her eyes at the sight of me.

“Dude, what was that for?” - Joe

“Shoo, Joe.” - Cassidy

“What, why?” - Joe

“Because I'd rather you leave than explain that we have a new girl just to hear you say you're focusing on football.” - Cassidy

“She’s got a point.” - Zach

“Who's side are you on?” - Joe rolled his eyes

Before Zach could answer, the bell rang, telling us to head to first period.

The group disbanded, and when everyone else went in the direction of the same classroom, I realized I was probably going to be alone in this class.

My first period was chemistry, and sadly, the teacher was notorious for a boy-girl seating chart.

I walked upstairs and found the room. When I walked in, everyone was in their seats already.

Looking for my name attached to a seat number on the board, I found it and then went on trying to find it.

The tables were for two people, and in the back corner where my table was, I saw that a girl was already occupying the other seat.

She was pretty, I won't lie, but I'd never seen her before.

The girl was looking down at her schedule when I sat my stuff down on the table, causing her to look up at me.

A warm smile spread across her lips, and I found myself studying her face a little too long.

“Hi.” - Joe

“Hey.” - you

I sat down next to her, my mind trying to come up with a conversation.

“Enjoying your first day so far?” - Joe

“Yeah, pretty well, you?” - you

“Same. Other than my friend’s girlfriend being rude to me for no reason.” - Joe

She laughed. It was one of the cutest laughs I've ever heard, and it was infectious too.

“I'm sure you didn't deserve it.” - you

“Thank you! I walked up to them, and she just rolled her eyes at me.” - Joe

“Dang man, she has beef with you.” - you

“That's what I'm sayin’. I don't know what I've ever done to her, though.” - Joe

“Ask her.” - you shrugged

“Nah, I don't care that much. Why am I even telling you this?” - Joe

“I don't know.” - you laughed

There's that laugh again.

“I just started unloading on you, huh? Well, I haven't seen you before so tell me about yourself.” - Joe

“Well, I'm a junior, so that's probably why. I'm not that interesting though. I strive for good grades, and I do gymnastics with a side of dance.” - you

“Oh really? I play football.” - Joe

“That's cool.” - you smiled

“Yeah, I’m feeling really good about this season, I just know it's gonna be great.” - Joe

“Well, I wish you luck.” - you

“I appreciate that, and you too. Hope gymnastics goes well.” - Joe

“Thank you.” - you smiled

Before the conversation could go further, the teacher started talking about what we should expect in this class. The teacher didn't stop me and my new seat buddy from talking, though.

As we talked longer, I realized we had a lot in common. I wouldn't be lying if I said she was the first girl I've talked to about Star Wars.

She was really fun, though, and easy to talk to.

Our conversation lasted till the bell rang, and we both sheepishly smiled when we realized that we'd been loudly talking in a quiet classroom.

I stood up and started packing my things. She did the same. The rest of the students were filing out of the room when we both put our backpacks on, seemingly in sync.

“I… I’m Joe, by the way. Joe Burrow, but most call me Joey.” - Joe

“It was nice talking to you, Joey. I'm y/n.” - you

She shook my hand and walked out of the door, leaving me shocked.

y/n… new hot girl from Kentucky.

After talking to her, it felt wrong to refer to her in that way. She was really pretty, but hot isn't a word I like to use when referring to girls.

I hope I have more classes with her. Woah, what am I saying?!

Focus on football, Joe.

——

Sadly, I didn't have any more classes with y/n, but I thankfully had friends in all my other classes.

I had lunch B, and most of my football buddies were in there, but I found myself zoning out while trying to look around the room for her.

Ever since the bell rang in chemistry, I haven't stopped thinking about y/n. It was becoming a slight problem, but it seemed like all I wanted was to go to chemistry tomorrow and talk to her.

After school ended, the football team stayed after school since we had our first home game the same day.

Hours later, we were suited up and ready to go out and stretch.

When we ran out and took the field as the senior quarterback, I was naturally the one leading the pack, but my eyes drifted toward the sideline.

One of the cheerleaders was flipping while the others were in stunts, but when she landed her last trick and posed, I gasped lightly when I saw who it was.

y/n.

That's how Cassidy knew her name! She’s a cheerleader!

“Joe! Where are you going?” - Zach

The sound of my teammate yelling snapped me out of my daydream, and I realized that when the rest of the team stopped running to stretch, I kept going because all I was paying attention to was y/n.

“Oh.” - Joe

I turned around and ran to where I was supposed to be, but when I turned around, y/n was smiling at me. I smiled back.

——

We ended up winning the game, which is always amazing, but even better since it was our home opener.

After walking back into the locker room to hear what the coaches had to say, I showered and packed up to find my parents.

I wasn't at all surprised when most of the cheerleaders were standing outside waiting. Most of their boyfriends were players, so they'd wait after for them.

My eyes landed on my parents and brothers, but as I was walking in their direction, I heard a familiar voice calling for me.

“Joe!” - you

I turned in the direction of the voice to see y/n speedwalking over to me with a smile on her face.

“Hey, y/n.” - Joe smiled

“Hey, you did well! I knew you said you played football but I wasn't expecting that. You're super good.” - you

Is it hot out here all of a sudden? Why is my face heating up?

“Thanks. You're really good too. I know those flips are hard to do. You make it look effortless.” - Joe

“Thanks… sorry I distracted you though.” - you

“Not your fault, I just wasn't expecting to see you. You look uh… good, by the way.” - Joe

“You too.” - you giggled

Just as I was about to say something else, I heard my mom's voice calling for me.

“Sorry, that's my mom. I gotta go.” - Joe

“It's all good. See you in chem?” - you

“See you in chem.” - Joe

As I walked away from her, I felt something I'd never felt before.

Oh no.

——

Next Day

It was Friday and lunchtime.

All my teammates were feeling good after the win yesterday, and sure, I was too, but that wasn't what was on my mind.

This morning in chemistry, I found myself lost in a conversation with y/n again. The disappointment when the bell rang was insane. I never wanted to stop talking to her.

She was just different.

The attention she got from other guys was because of her looks, and she was pretty, gosh, she was pretty… but I didn't like being around her for that.

We had a lot in common and never ran out of things to talk about. She listened to what I had to say and gave great feedback. We talked about our futures and what we wanted to be when we graduated.

I told her about my hopes of going to the league, and what she replied with gave me a flutter in my stomach that I'd never felt before.

“If you make it to the NFL, you have to invite me to come see you.”

I’d known this girl for two days and I was already ready to make that promise.

My mind was so stuck on that altercation that I didn't hear Zach talking to me from across the table.

“Joe? Joe!” - Zach

I flinched slightly and looked up at him, all the guys at the table watching me with weird looks on their faces.

“Sorry… I spaced out.” - Joe

“Anyway, Cassidy told me that y/n was asking about you at their lunch.” - Zach

“What? What'd she ask?” - Joe

Should my heart be beating this fast?

“Asked if you had a girlfriend, I guess. Don't worry, though, Cas told her that you're focusing on football.” - Zach

“Oh. Okay.” - Joe

Is that really what I want?

“She’s so funny to tease.” - Chad

“Seriously, she's got cheerleader brain.” - Max

Why are they talking about her like that??

“I gotta go.” - Joe

I stood up from the lunch table, quickly finding a trashcan and throwing my stuff away before walking out of the lunch room.

“What’s his problem?” - Max

“I don't know, bro.” - Chad

Zach knew because he was right. What he told me yesterday was haunting me.

Romeo, this could be your Juliette.

——

My thoughts ran wild as I went to the office and asked to do some volunteer work.

The receptionist gave me the okay to go down to the middle school for the remainder of the lunch period.

I drove over to the middle school and went up to the office, clicking the button to signal the office worker that I was out there.

When the door unlocked I was able to open it. I did, and whose eyes I met surprised me.

“y/n?” - Joe

“Oh, hey Joe.” - you

“What are you doing here?” - Joe

“Gonna head to a class to volunteer, I have a free period right now. Aren't you supposed to be in lunch?” - you

“Well, yeah, but I had to get out of there.” - Joe

“Why’s that?” - you

Her brows were furrowed like she could hear the slight edge in my voice.

“Some of the guys were saying stuff about you, kinda pissed me off, so I left.” - Joe

“What? You left because of that? I’m used to it, Joe. I'm just a dumb cheerleader.” - you

“You're not, though, that's why I didn't want to listen to it. I've only known you for two days, but I look forward to every conversation we share. They don't know you as I do.” - Joe

y/n placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me. Her eyes gave off a grateful look.

“You're the first person who’s made attempts to get to know me, and I appreciate it.” - you

“Not even your teammates?” - Joe

“I love ‘em, but they're not the Star Wars type like you are.” - you

“Yeah… I'm pretty cool like that.” - Joe

“Oh, whatever!” - you rolled your eyes

We laughed with each other before the receptionist cleared her throat. Both y/n and I froze when we realized where we were.

“Oh, sorry!” - you

“You guys can both go to room 379 if you’d like, seems like you two have a spark.” - receptionist

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, but y/n smiled at the older lady and walked through the double doors into the building.

There weren't any words shared between us as we walked to the room, both of us were thinking about what the woman had said. Do we have a spark?

——

Ten minutes into hanging out with the sixth graders, the teacher sent y/n and me to the copy room.

“Hey, have you thought about formal?” - Joe

“What about it?” - you

Winter formal wasn't coming until December, obviously, but I felt the need to ask.

“Like are you going? Date ideas?” - Joe

“I figured I'd go, yeah. I don't know who I'm gonna go with, though. Might just go with friends, the guys here aren't the best.” - you

“Ouch.” - Joe

“Hey, I don't count you with them. You’re separate.” - you

“I think that's good.” - Joe

“It is. You're a jock, but a nice one, you know? I like you.” - you

My face dropped as I looked at her, feeling my cheeks flush and my stomach flop.

“Not in that way!” - you rushed to say

“Oh… okay.” - Joe

“Why do you act disappointed? I thought you weren't looking for anything and focusing on football.” - you

“I don't know. I thought I was, but you're making it hard to.” - Joe

“What does that mean?” - you

“I barely know you, but I can't stop thinking about you. You understand me in a way I didn't think was possible… you're just different.” - Joe

“I feel the same way about you. You're nerdy but athletic and have these quirks that I'm obsessed with. You're oddly the guy version of me.” - you

“Nah, you're the girl version of me.” - Joe

“Oh, whatever!” - you shoved his chest

I'm feeling a little bold after she told me she can't stop thinking about me either. Should I make a little move?

“You look cute when you do that. You roll your eyes at me but are smiling.” - Joe

“Oh, uh. Thanks.” - you blushed

“You're welcome.” - Joe smiled

——

October, 2014

That's as far as we went talking about it.

Nothing ever came from that one conversation we shared at the middle school. That's the closest thing we ever did that could come close to showing feelings for one another.

We just continued being really good friends who giggle in the back of the chemistry room, but the eye contact we make while I'm on the field and she’s on the sidelines tells me there's something there.

In the past two months, I've concluded that no matter how hard I try to deny it, I have a crush on y/n.

I just don't know how to act on it.

She still thinks that I don't want a relationship right now, so I need to start dropping hints.

The first step of my plan was to ask her to study with me after school, like at my house.

So, when I walked into chemistry this morning, I had that idea in the back of my head.

“Hey.” - Joe smiled

“Morning.” - you smiled back

I sat my stuff down and took my seat next to her.

“I need to ask you something.” - you

“Oh, what's that?” - Joe

“They haven't announced it yet, but I won junior attendant for homecoming.” - you

“Really?! That's awesome!” - Joe

“Yeah, thanks. We have to have a guy from the football team be our escort…” - you

“And you want me to ask someone for you?” - Joe

She looked at me with a “boy, please” look on her face that made me laugh.

“I'm just playing. I'd love to walk you.” - Joe

“Okay, good. Thanks, Joey.” - you

“Mhm. When will you find out who won Hoco Queen?” - Joe

“Not till the game, but if I win, you’ll get a little crown too.” - you

“I get a crown too?? Now you have to win.” - Joe

“I'll try my hardest. You have to help my campaign, though.” - you

“Sounds like a deal.” - Joe smiled

——

Later that week, I met up with y/n during my lunch period and her free period. I helped her campaign, and when she wasn't around, I convinced the football team to vote for her.

I wanted to make sure she'd win.

——

“Junior attendant, y/n y/l/n, escorted by Joey Burrow.”

The announcer’s voice beamed through the speakers as we walked down the middle of the football field. My arm was looped with y/n’s, and I shortened my strides with the length of her heals in mine.

I hadn't seen her till she walked out and looped her arm with mine, but she looked so beautiful.

“You look gorgeous.” - Joe whispered

“Thank you.” - you blushed

We smiled for the camera when we reached the end of the field, and y/n gently squeezed my arm when we walked over and stood in our directed spot.

“You don't look too bad yourself.” - you

Our conversation was drowning out the announcer’s voice, who was reading the short paragraph that y/n wrote a couple of days ago. She'd made me proofread it so many times that I had it practically memorized.

“y/n would like to thank her parents and friends, especially her best friend, who is escorting her tonight.”

That part was new.

My cheeks heated up when I looked down at y/n to see her already smiling at me. She'd never come out and said that I was her best friend, but I couldn't say it didn't make sense.

“Surprise.” - you nudged him

“I'm your best friend, huh?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you smiled

“You're mine too.” - Joe

“No way!” - you pushed Joe’s chest

“Don't tell Zach I said that, though.” - Joe

Her smile was infectious, and I felt my lips mirror y/n’s expression.

The announcer went on to introduce the senior attendant and read her little background story.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen. Your 2014 football homecoming queen is…”

I reached my other hand up to squeeze y/n’s that was wrapped around my bicep.

“y/n y/l/n!”

“You did it! Go get your crown!” - Joe

She let go of my arm and walked back to the middle of the field.

I watched with a proud smile on my face as y/n was handed a bouquet, a sash draped over her shoulder, and the crown on her head.

There was so much adoration in my heart for her, and when she turned around to look at me, my smile only widened.

“C’mere!” - you mouthed

I slowly walked over to her, and y/n re-looped our arms.

Bowing my head slightly, the crown was put on top of it. y/n laughed at the sight of the crown adorning my forehead.

“Lemme fix that. It's kinda sideways.” - you

She stepped on her tiptoes and fixed it, a blush forming on my cheeks when her fingers brushed down my face when she pulled away.

“You look cute.” - you smiled

“Thanks.” - Joe grinned

——

December, 2014

“Hey.” - Joe

“Oh, hey.” - you

I put my stuff down and sat down in my chair, the same routine since the first day of school. Hopefully, though, today some things will change.

Or at least be set in the right direction to change.

“I need to ask you a question.” - Joe

“Shoot.” - you

“Be my date too formal?” - Joe

I looked at her with hopefulness in my eyes. Please say yes.

“I'm already going with Chad… sorry, Joe.” - you

“Oh. It's okay, I just thought… nevermind.” - Joe

My shoulders slumped as I turned away from her and faced the board, biting the insides of my cheeks nervously.

The one time I shoot my shot with a girl, and I get rejected.

Guess that tells me what my priorities should be.

Focusing on football.

——

“What do you mean Joe’s here alone?” - you

“Yeah, Zach had to practically beg him to even come. Joe said there wasn't any point in going since he didn't have a date.” - Cassidy

“That makes me feel terrible…” - you

“Why?” - Cassidy

“Because he asked me, but I'd already said yes to Chad.” - you

“It's not your fault, how were you supposed to know that Joe was gonna ask you? I mean, he isn't looking for anything right now.” - Cassidy

“Yeah… do you know where he is?” - you

“No idea. Probably hiding in a corner.” - Cassidy

“Chad literally ditched me after pictures. Joe never would've done that…” - you

A few seconds of silence between the two girls went by before Cassidy had a lightbulb moment.

“Do you have a crush on Joe?!” - Cassidy

“What?! No!” - you

“You so do! y/n you should tell him! I honestly think he feels the same way…” - Cassidy

“No… he's focusing on football.” - you sighed

“So you do like him?” - Cassidy

“Maybe…” - you

When you admitted it out loud, it felt real. You like Joe.

Joey Burrow, the quarterback with the nerdy side that only you knew of, the one with the imperfect but adorable smile, the one that made you look forward to first period, your crush.

“I'm gonna go find him.” - you

You walked as fast as your heels allowed you and threw your half-drank cup of subpar punch in the trash can, pushing open the gym doors as Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE playing through the speakers served as a soundtrack.

Zach wasn't hard to find as a sea of letterman jackets was in the hallway.

“Where’s Joe?” - you

“Oh, hey, y/n! He said he was gonna go take a walk around.” - Zach shrugged

You nodded and walked away toward the academic wing of the school.

Only the generator lights were on, but there was enough lighting to make out that familiar tall frame looking into the trophy cases.

Carefully, so as to not scare him, you slowly walked up behind Joe and tapped his shoulder.

“Hi.” - you

“Hi.” - Joe

“Chad ditched me…” - you

“That sucks.” - Joe

He hadn't even looked up at you yet.

“I'm sorry. If I had known you were going to ask me, I wouldn't have said yes to him.” - you

“S’okay, probably for the better.” - Joe

“Why are you just walking around by yourself, Joe?” - you

“Nothing else to do. Kinda bored.” - Joe

“Wanna go see what teachers left their classrooms unlocked?” - you grinned

Joe’s eyes drifted away from the trophy case for the first time and found yours. A smile pulled at his lips as he nodded his head.

You held your hand out to him, and Joe gladly accepted, clasping his fingers with yours.

There were so many unspoken feelings shared between you two as you made your way down the hallways to find an open door.

“The chem room is open…” - Joe

You gently opened the door and pulled Joe in behind you, the lights being motion-activated turned on as you two walked in.

Joe flicked the light switch back off as the moonlight through the window lit up the room.

Making your way to your table, you and Joe sat down in your respective seats without sharing a word.

“Your dress is pretty.” - Joe

With a longing glance, you examined Joe’s hair, outfit, and shoes.

“Thanks. You look handsome.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smiled

A few seconds of silence went by before Joe cleared his throat, immediately getting your attention.

“Uhm… can I be honest with you?” - Joe

“Always.” - you

Here goes nothing.

“I think you're amazing. Talking to you every day makes me want to come to school, and I enjoy every word that's shared between us. You get to see a side of me that many people don't because I feel safe with you. I hope what I'm about to tell you doesn't ruin that, and you might just see me as a friend… but I like you.” - Joe

“In what way?” - you

In all honesty, you knew exactly what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“In the way that I find myself staring at you all the time because I think you're beautiful, In the way that you give me butterflies when you laugh or smile at me. You are incredible, y/n; gorgeous, smart, talented, crazy athletic, loyal, trustworthy.” - Joe

He paused for a second to scan your face for somewhat of a reaction.

“Now that I think about it, you're so out of my league.” - Joe laughed

“Go on, Joey.” - you giggled

“What I'm trying to say is… I have a crush on you, y/n.” - Joe

“Mr. ‘I'm focusing on football’ has a crush on me?!?” - you

Joe felt his stomach drop at your teasing. He'd just poured his heart out, and was thinking the worst.

“So you don't feel the same way?” - Joe

“What? I didn't say that!” - you

“So…?” - Joe

“I like you too, Joe. More than friends.” - you

“Really?” - Joe smiled

“Yeah.” - you grinned

You two sat there, no words shared, just tooth-rotting grins.

“I've never done this before… what happens next?” - Joe

“I think there's another question you need to ask me.” - you

“Oh, yeah! y/n…” - Joe

He took your hand in his, the size difference making your heart flutter for a second before you shifted your attention back to his beautiful blue eyes.

“Be my girlfriend?” - Joe finished

“I'd love to.” - you smiled

Somehow, your other hand found its way into his. Almost as if magnets were pulling your faces together, you both leaned in.

Your lips molded together so perfectly like you were each other’s missing piece.

Maybe because you guys were.

Joe would forever be grateful that he took the leap of faith and confessed to the girl that he swore was out of his league, for she would become his everything for the rest of his life.

That chemistry room is where you found your first real boyfriend, who would be your first kiss, and unbeknownst to you, you were Joe’s first real girlfriend and kiss as well.

In fact, you were each other’s first everything.

And you'd also be each other’s last.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: One of my favorite requests to write, it was so fun picturing the beginning of their relationship!

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Hiiii✨

I saw that you wanted requests for stranger things, so could you possibly make something with Steve x reader where he kind of protects her or something like that🪷🌺 preferably in season 4 but it’s not a must, ok thank u bye

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH! I am so sorry it took me SO long and I mixed this with two other requests 😊 I hope that's okay Requests - Anonymous asked: Hi lovely! A request where the reader gets hurt trying to save Steve from something? I’m thinking something like the scene in ST4 where they fought the “bats”. Thank you 🥰 - mychemicalimagines asked: Hi! you asked for prompts and i’m here to deliver!! "The closest thing to love at first sight I've ever experienced happened when I first laid eyes on you." with Steve pleaseeee? thank you! Warnings: reader gets hurt (she's attacked by bats) Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things 😊 gif isn’t mine��😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The Closest Thing

Everything happened too fast. In the blink of an eye. You had always wondered what death would feel like. Would it hurt? Would you even feel it? Would it feel like falling asleep? Would it be quick? It was definitely not quick. You could feel more bats coming towards you and start biting new, different spots on your body. And the only thing you could think about is, that this was the last time you ever saw Steve Harrington. 

You would never get to tell him how you felt. You would never get to be in his arms. You would never get lost again in his beautiful, chocolate brown, captivating eyes. You would never see his beautiful smile or hear him laugh again. All you had with you, was his face when you had been pulled back into the water. 

You were pretty sure you were losing it when you heard his voice. His beautiful voice calling your name. And then it got closer. And then, he was there, hitting the bats away from you. You were finally able to take a deep breath when the bat that was around your neck was pulled away from you and you sat up.

"Sweetheart, I'm here, okay?" Steve told you before he hit another bat away. You coughed a little seeing Nancy, Robin, and Eddie approaching too as they started fighting the bats away.

With the little strength that you had you managed to get up and keep fighting. This would not be the end. You at least had to tell Steve how you felt before you died.

Once everything died down, you felt Steve's arms pull you towards him as the five of you ran to the nearest safe place. Or well, less dangerous, really. Steve sat you down and felt tears in his eyes when he looked at all the blood and bruises on your body while you tried to smile weakly at him. Nancy ripped off the bottom of her shirt and handed it to him so he could wrap it around your stomach as the other three explored around.

"I told you it should have been me going inside the lake" he said with a stern voice.

“Wait, are you mad because I stole your thunder as the hero?” you smirked. 

“You’re seriously making jokes while you were almost eaten by bats?! Do you have any idea how dangerous it was for you to jump in the lake in the first place?!”

"It wouldn't have been any less dangerous if it was you" you frowned.

"I know, but I-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You would have been safe" he said, sadly.

"Steve we both know I would have jumped after you just like you did for me" you informed him.

"How can you be this stubborn? I don't-" he complained. "I don't want to lose you" he said with a few tears rolling down his cheeks which you quickly wiped away with your hand.

"You didn't" you assured him. "You saved me" you smiled, making a tiny smile appear on his lips as well.

"I love you" he blurted out, making you widen your eyes a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blurt that out just like that, or well, tell you in the UpsideDown, which is probably the worst place I could have done but... seeing you like that I just... I can't keep it any longer. You don't have to say anything, by the way. I don't expect you to feel the same way or-" you leaned in and cut him off by giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

"Steve" you said when you pulled away. "The closest thing to love at first sight I've ever experienced happened when I first laid eyes on you" you admitted. "I have... kind of been waiting for you to notice" you chuckled a little. "And I thought I wouldn't get a chance to-"

"Don't say that, sweetheart" he said, cupping your cheek. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I promise" he smiled, kissing you again. "And when all this is over, I'm taking you out on a proper date" he added.

"You got yourself a deal, Harrington" you smiled, kissing him again.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you liked it :D

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington drabble

[morlao]

Secret Admirer

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

■ friends to lovers

■ Isaac Garcia x fem!reader

Valentine's Day or in other words: that real fun time of the year where boys buy roses for their crush and (since most of them give the roses anonymously) girls try to find out who the rose is from. It was always really funny, especially when it involved one of your friends. Last year Kiley was the lucky one. She was invited on a date, a blind date, and she came home super excited, telling you and your friends that it was a guy from the Football team.

This year you are sure it would be Jackie. You and Skylar have a bet about who would make the first move. He says Cole, you say Alex. Your chances of winning are quite high since you and Kiley are telling Alex for weeks that this would be the perfect opportunity for him.

Jackie herself doesn't seem so sure about getting a rose at all. When you meet up with her in school she and Grace are talking about it. "No Grace, Cole is with Erin, he for sure won't get me a rose!" "Bullshit." "Grace!"

"Oh, come on Jackie," you sigh, joining Grace's side, "I'm pretty sure you'll get at least one rose today." The blush that starts to rise to Jackie's face makes your grin even wider. "And you know that too", you tease her.

Jackie clears her throat, grabs her backpack and stands up. "Okay, time for class, we can talk later" You know exactly that she is just trying to avoid this topic but nevertheless you nod. "Yeah, classes", you murmur with absolutely no motivation.

Slowly you start walking into class. Of course there are already a bunch of roses lying on some of the desks. The girls stand around them and whisper excitedly, while sometimes stealing glances towards the boys. You walk to your place and... Wait, there is a rose on YOUR desk. For a moment you stand there, confused and in disbelief. You have never received a rose before. You also have no idea who might have put it there. Maybe the boy put it on the wrong desk by accident. It for sure isn't meant for you. You would have noticed if someone had a crush on you, wouldn't you? At least if the boy showed it as obvious as Cole and Alex did concering Jackie.

When you are finally able to break free of your paralysis you slowly start walking towards it. Only then do you notice the little note that was attached to it. Your heart starts to race as you see that your name is written on it. It is no accident, the rose is really for you! You take a look around, searching for any suspicious behaviour, but nobody seems to act strange. With your fingers trembling you unfold the paper and stare at the few lines that were written there by computer.

"Y/N, I've been in love with you for quite a while now. I hope you like the rose."

Of course you couldn't wait for the lessons to end. As soon as the bell rings, you storm out of the classroom, nearly bumping into one of your classmates, and run to the cafeteria to meet up with your friends.

"Guys, I got a rose and a note!"

Immediately they all gather around you, almost ripping the note out of your hands as each one of them wants to read it. "Do you have any idea who it could be?" Jackie sounds super excited. "Nope, sadly not. Could be anyone." You try to think about whether someone acted strange around you. Nothing unusual.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Isaac walks up behind you and tries to get a look at the note. Hastily you try to cover it with your hands. Yes, he was one of your closest friends and yes you trusted him with your life but you also knew that he could be a real pain in the ass especially when it came to boys.

The last time you mentioned that Cole was cute he complained so loudly that all the girls were crazy about Cole that the whole cafeteria heard it. You had never felt so embarrassed in your whole life. Also the next week Cole kept walking up to you with his arrogant grin, asking if you would like to come to his place that night. It took several weeks for him to stop.

Quickly you snatch the note away from him. "Nothing, just..." "You got a love letter!" "No that's not..." You sigh as you don't know what else to call it. It is right, it is a love letter. "Okay, yes I got a love letter and I also got a rose. Don't ask who it is, I don't know." Isaac looks at you, his dark eyes sparkeling as he teases you. "Who do you want it to be?"

You feel all your friends' eyes on you. A very good question. Who did you want it to be? A year ago you would have immediately answered Cole. But now... of course you still think that he is very attractive - nobody would deny that - but his behaviour and the rumors about him making out with numerous girls even though he seems to be with Erin, made you change your mind. You wouldn't want to be with someone who plays you like a toy and gives you mixed feelings or even a roller coaster of emotions.

If you were completely honest, lately you catch yourself often thinking about Isaac. Why didn't you notice before how handsome he actually is? Maybe because you knew him practically since kindergarten. He had always been one of your best friends, it would be weird to see him as more. Or wouldn't it?

You blush as you notice that your friends are still staring at you, waiting for your answer. What should you say? Your eyes dart across the room and the first one you see is... "Er... Dylan. Yeah... I think I might have a crush on Dylan."

Isaac's shoulders tense. "Dylan?!" He almost spits out the name, then he rolls his eyes murmuring something about bad taste in men before walking away.

Kiley looks at you, ignoring him completely. "Do you think the note could maybe be from Dylan?" You shrug, as you didn't really care if it was him or not. "That's the worst about it... I have absolutely no idea who it could be."

The following days you all do your best to find out more about your secret admirer but it seems to be impossible. He really did his best to stay anonymous. Isaac still seems to be upset. You don't really get it, because as far as you knew you did nothing to piss him off. Nevertheless he still avoids you during break and sometimes you catch him glaring at you or your friends from across the room.

On top of that you slowly start to regret calling Dylan your crush as Kiley tries her best to be a good friend and gives him little hints in order to find out if he likes you too. All you could do is watch and act like you were excited about it when in reality you couldn't care less.

Almost two weeks have passed and you still have no idea who your secret admirer is. Valentine's Day was over so no more notes and no more roses. What if he disappeared until Valentine's Day next year? You would have to wait the whole goddamn year and that only for another anonymous note? And what if he didn't like you anymore next year? You would probably never find out who it was!

Frustrated you bang your head against the kitchen table. Jackie had invited you to the Walters' house for a girls night. Probably she wants to distract you from racking your brains over who it could be. But as she is just as curious as you, the topic comes up again and again.

"I asked my classmates. Nobody saw who left the rose", you tell her. "Do you think it's someone you know? Maybe someone you're friends with?", Jackie asks. "Why do you think that?" "Well, it was written by computer. Maybe the person feared you would recognize the handwriting." Your eyes widen. Why didn't you think of that?

A quiet laughter makes you turn around. Isaac has entered the room. He grabs a glass of water and grins at you. "Are you still trying to find your secret lover?"

"Yes, I do and I won't stop until I know who it is." Your voice sounds determined even though you have no idea what else you could do.

"He could have at least left a hint", Jackie sighed, "Why send someone a rose without the intention to maybe go on a date together?" Isaac shrugs. "Maybe it was just a joke."

You glare at him across the table. "Thank you so much for encouraging me, idiot!" Again he shrugs and walks out of the kitchen again, murmuring just as loudly so you could hear it "Well, if you are into popular Football guys, you should get used to being played."

You don't know what to say. Why is he being such an idiot? Jackie takes your hand, smiling softly. "Hey, forget about him. Maybe he's just stressed." You nod and smile at her even though you don't think that being stressed gives him the right to let it out on others.

A few days later as you walk up to your locker with Jackie you see another note stuck there. Again it had your name written on it. Jackie squeaks excitedly as you take it and unfold it.

"Meet me at 8 on the Football field."

Your heart skips a beat. He wants to meet you! That is your chance of finding out who it is. But as you continue to think about it, also a feeling of nervousness starts to appear. Do you really want to know who it is? What if it is someone you don't like or aren't attracted to? Maybe it would be better not to destroy the illusion of your secret admirer.

Jacky looks at you in disbelief as you tell her your doubt. "No way, you're going!" Her voice allows no contradiction. "You were trying to find out who it is for weeks and now you don't want to take this opportunity? You go there, otherwise I'll drag you there! Your choice."

Okay, sounds like you had no other option. You will go there.

You can't wait for your classes to end. Your eyes are fixed upon the clock and you tap your foot nervously. When finally the bell rings, you are upon the first to storm out of the classroom.

Your friends are there to comfort you during waiting for it to finally be 8 o'clock. Grace lists tons and tons of names who she thinks it is, not noticing that she makes you even more nervous by doing so.

At 7:55 you stand up, gather all your courage and make your way to the football field. It's already getting dark and nobody's there. You stand there waiting, your eyes darting around in search of someone.

Times goes by, it's 8:05 then 8:10, 8:15. Your nervousness fades and instead you start to doubt. Are you maybe really getting fooled? What if it was really just a joke? You are just thinking about leaving when you finally notice a figure walking towards you. Your heart starts racing and as he comes closer you finally see who it is. You stand there in disbelief. "Isaac?!"

The boy smiles shyly at you. "Hi, Y/N." "You... are you... no that's not possible!" You don't know what to say. It seems like all the words had just disappeared from inside your head. Was this a joke? Isaac rubs the back of his neck nervously. He can barely look you in the eye. "Are you disappointed that it's me?"

You had never seen him this shy or nervous before. He always seemed so... relaxed and cool with everything. It had to be a joke, it had to be a joke! Every second that you remain silent is pure torture for the poor boy standing in front of you. He clearly seems to take your silence as a "yes". "I know I'm not the hot and charming Cole Walter or fucking Dylan!" His voice cracks and he tries desperately not to show how hurt he is.

You finally manage to get out more than just a stutter. "It was you? The rose was from you? This is not a joke?" Isaac looks at you, torn between sadness and confusion. "Why should this be a joke?" Your face burns with embarrassment. "You're one of my best friends... I never thought that you'd have feelings for me."

Isaac lowers his head and his dark hair falls into his eyes, covering them almost completely. "You're amazing, you're smart, beautiful and the best friend someone could wish for. How could I not fall in love with you?"

Would it feel weird to kiss him since you had known him for so long? You had thought about it before, never seriously though, he was only a friend after all. But now... the thought of it doesn't sound as weird as you thought it would. Slowly you walk towards him. "Why did you never tell me?"

Isaac bites his lip. "I wanted to, I really did, but then you stood there in front of me and I panicked. Also I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

With a small smile you grab his hand and he looks at you, clearly surprised. "I want to tell you a secret", you whisper and lean towards him, your heart racing in your chest. Just before his lips touch yours you confess: "I lied when I told you I hoped it was Dylan. Actually I hoped that it was you."

You can see from the look on his face that he didn't expect that. "Really?" "Really." A huge smile crosses his lips. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you towards him, smashing his lips onto yours. His kiss is passionate and warm, sending a tingling sensation through your body.

As you pull away from each other he looks at you with the brightest smile possible. "If I had known that, I would have confessed years ago!" You roll your eyes laughing and pull him in for another kiss.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#my life with the walter boys #isaac garcia #secret admirer #isaac garcia x reader #walter boys

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Prompt Angst “fuck I didn’t mean that” Ethan or Jack whichever is fine. Y/n finds him dming other girls or following other girls and they get into an argument

Let me just say I love getting these prompts and seeing the different stories you guys make behind them!!!!

On the Other Side

Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list

Summary: Ethan has been texting someone from his econ class behind your back, you shortly find out after he lets you borrow his phone. It then leads to a fight and a broken heart.

warning: arguring, angst, cursing, cheating,

word count: 1.5k

did not proofread.

It's been about six months since you started dating Ethan, and everything was great. From the dates to the sex, and to the little moments. It was great! but you couldn't understand why he became so distant; it started off small. First, it was the random bailing on you when it was date night, and that never happened. So, you didn't think much of it. but then bailing once turned into four times, it was four weeks he had bailed on you.

After the fourth time, you started to keep an eye on him, with how he was acting towards you, first, it was the cold shoulder, then it was the random nonstop love towards you, and finally, anytime you were with the group and went to hold his hand or rest on him, slowly but surely, he would push you off. It broke you, you felt like you were losing him.

Everyone was at Mindy and Anika's apartment; it was movie night with the entire group. everyone but Ethan, no one knew where he was and they assumed you knew, so when you showed up alone you just said he was at a study group and would show up later. That satisfied everyone enough to move on. About an hour in with dinner and drinking Ethan walked through the front door.

"Hey, hi, so sorry I'm late class ran later than expected" Chad, Tara, and Sam didn't pay much attention to what he had said but you and Mindy had caught that he said class.

Ethan gave everyone hugs and shook Chad and Danny's hands. Once he reached you, he saw your eyebrows furrowed, leaning down he kissed the top of your head. "what's wrong?" he backed up a little but was still hovering above you as you sat on the bar stool.

"You said class, I thought your class gets out at four, it's seven you said you had study group. That's what you told me "He chuckled lightly and shook his head. lightly his hand soothed over your arm.

"No, y/n you must have heard me wrong. I was in class, maybe you've had too much to drink" he took the wine glass out of your hand. Everyone was deep in conversation, Mindy on the other hand was listening to yours.

"No Ethan, you told me study group. Are you lying?" your voice rose towards the end causing the others to now turn to you both. "And I've had barely anything to drink because I didn't know where you were, so I was worried" Ethan stepped back rolling his eyes, his hand ran over his face. frustration was written all over it.

"You guys, okay?" Chad spoke up leaning forward in his chair. The tension in the room was thick everyone could see that.

"Not here y/n" Ethan's voice was low and threating.

You pushed him off of you, "No. No Ethan I'm done. You've been lying to me for weeks and I'm just done" You grabbed your bag and keys and stormed out of the apartment.

Ethan stood there for a second pinching his nose, anger filling his body at how embarrassing it was for you to make a scene like that. "Lying for weeks? Ethan, what is y/n talking about?" Tara's voice broke the silence.

"Um I don't know she's been acting really weird recently" Ethan grabbed his hoodie and backpack, waving his arms as he came up with excuses. Running through the front door it slammed behind him, everyone sat there confused. Their thoughts leading them into places that were bad.

"I hope whatever is happening isn't bad" Mindy sadly sat next to Anika with her food and drink.

Ethan was a few feet behind you, out of breath from running to catch up and from calling your name. "y/n please would you just stop for a minute!" He grabbed your arm pulling you back.

"No Ethan I'm done with the lies! And don't you even think about lying to me right now! I saw the texts between you and that girl from your econ class!" you voice rose as your spoke, all the emotions that have been building up for weeks finally spilling out.

"y/n please not here" he waved his arms around making you take in the environment. You were in Mindy's apartment lobby, some bystanders side-eying you as they grabbed their mail. "Can I at least take you back to my apartment, so we have privacy?" His voice was soft it seemed like he really cared for a second.

"Fine but don't think I'm going to stay for long." you rolled your eyes as you looked at him. This feeling in your gut started to form, you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

Ethan and you walked to the car in silence, no words, no music, nothing. it was dead.

Arriving at his apartment, you both were still quiet walking in. You sat at the dining room table while he went straight to the fridge and pulled out a drink. He stood behind you at the counter, just looking at you and thinking about how he fucked this all up.

You were facing the other way thinking about why he would do such a thing.

"y/n listen-" he was toying with the button on his jacket as he spoke, but he was cut off by the sound of your chair scrapping on the floor.

"Why?" you turned your body to him, your eyes flooding with tears.

"y/n please don't cry" he ran to you, on his knees looking up at you. "Look- I-" his voice breaking as he spoke. He was crying.

"Don't make an excuse Ethan. I can't handle them anymore" You rolled your eyes pushing his hands off of your legs. He stood up, looking down at you, and something about his eyes changed.

"Okay well then what the fuck do you want me to say! huh? I'm sorry, please forgive me?!" he was angry. What could he possibly be mad about he was the one cheating on you.

"I don't know maybe explain to me why you let things go on for so long! Why stay with me if you were messing around with other women!" you were both shouting and throwing your hands around.

"Oh, please like I'm the bad guy here what about the asshole from your class? Huh? What about him? Don't think I didn't notice how you flirt with him all the time!" he felt his entire body become tense as the agreement kept going.

"I never flirted with him! He was the one who did all of that! And unlike you I was loyal! Because I loved you!" tears were streaming down your face as you yelled at him. That feeling in your gut finally snapped, and the emotions started to pour out. "I put everything into this relationship, and you never put in a cent. I love you so much. And yet you run around with different women behind my back- but- why? why do it?"

His hand was resting on his hip as the other one pinched his nose. you stood not even a foot away from him, broken and confused, your arms holding yourself in a way of comfort.

"Because y/n being with you is suffocating!!" his voice was rough and stern. His eyes were emotionless for a split second but realizing what he had said his eyes softened. Looking at you he realized he fucked up.

Seeing the way your mouth twitched into a frown, the way your body jumped at his words. The sound of your feet scrapping on the floor as you stepped back. "Fuck-" he rubbed his face with both of his hands, "-fuck- I- I didn't mean that" He took a step towards you reaching for your hands.

Shaking your head, the tears flooded down your cheeks even more. "No. Don't fucking touch me!" you pushed him away. wiping the tears away you turned grabbing your purse. "I'm done, I'm done with you and all of this. I don't want to see you again. And I mean it Ethan."

"y/n no, please can't we fix this, I'll be better please" he ran after you to the door. Stumbling over his words, he knew nothing who convince you to stay, but he still wanted to try.

"No, I mean it. I gave you so many chances, I waited for you to come clean, and you never did. Like I said I loved you, you can't fix anything" You stood there in the doorway, you saw his eyes becoming red as he refused to let the tears out.

Your heart was beating so fast, burning at the rush of anger and sadness. Once you leave there's no coming back. You shook your head at Ethan, a sob escaped your lips as you said goodbye. The door clicked behind you, leaving Ethan standing there alone. Tears now finally rolled down his cheeks, and as he looked at the door, he questioned everything he had done.

He stood there regretting his words, and his actions. All he wanted was for you to come back.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #spider socorro #avatar spider #spiderman

[lovelyiida]

THINKING ABOUT HOW MUCH KIRISHIMA WOULD WANT YOU TO MATCH WITH HIM FOR HALLOWEEN, imagining the lengths he would go through to find that perfect outfit and show it to you, just for you to deny it.

"How about this one?"

"No."

"What about this one? I'm the plug and you're the socket!"

"Corny."

"How about I'll be a pirate and you can be a mermaid!"

"Mm... I feel like you're saying that because you want to be the mermaid."

A sigh escapes the redhead's mouth as he crashes on your bed in defeat. It's been several hours since he brought up the idea that both of you should match for the holiday, but you wouldn't budge. Either the ideas he gave were too corny or just painfully bad, and it was starting to hurt his feelings.

Both of you were invited to the annual UA Halloween bash; the whole school was attending, and everyone usually had on the best costumes. You didn't want to be rude, but you didn't want to be the peanut butter to his jelly, sadly.

Certainly, here's the improved version of the passage with corrected grammar and sentence structure:

"Hey, do you even want to match with me?" he says, shuffling closer to you. His face pressed against your stomach, he lets out a whine. Rolling your eyes, you then sigh.

"I don't know. I think this is the first time I've ever been able to dress up without someone else's opinion. I just want to be something really unique, not a basic couple's costume."

You run your fingers through Kirishima's red locks. You can tell he's upset by the visible silence that casts over the room.

"Kiri," you say. With a sigh, he turns around and looks into your eyes. "Hm?" he says, his tone flat and a little bit irritated.

"Don't be upset with me, babe," you say with a defeated smile. "You know I hate it when you're upset with me. Please say something," you add softly.

Kirishima lets out another drama-filled sigh and sits himself up. "I just thought that since this was the first party we would go to as a couple, you'd want to match. But I guess I was wrong." A frown visible on his lips soon disappears and forms into an understanding smirk.

"I bet I'll still have a better costume than you," he says with a mischievous smirk. The pressure from the previous conversation lifts, and a laugh escapes from you. "Yeah, okay. Wanna make a bet?" you say. Soon, the redhead climbs on top of you with a simple hum as a response.

"If I win, you're all mine for the next day, and you have to do everything I say," Kirishima says, but he cuts himself off by kissing your lips. "And! You have to match with me for the next party."

Giving him a nod, you then kiss him back with another peck. With a smug smirk you speak.

"If you lose, then it's vice versa... and I get to pick the stupidest costume there is known to mankind."

"The night of the party, it was hard to find your boyfriend. It felt like the whole entire school was there. Going through the area, seeing so many faces but none you could recognize, you finally spot a familiar face.

"Bakugo!"

The blonde soon turns around and looks you up and down, a smug smile plastered over his lips.

"Hey, looking for your boy-toy angel?" he says, all pun intended. You came to the party in an all-white costume with the cutest angel wings and a halo to match.

Rolling your eyes, your gaze lingers.

"Where is he?" you yell, the music blaring over your voice, making it hard to hear his response.

Grabbing your arm, Bakugo points over to the front of the room. With a nod, you venture over to the front of the room.

A crowd is still present, and you fight your way to the front. People thrashing their bodies and screaming to the lyrics make it even worse. Yelling out your boyfriends name, you look all around for him but he’s no where in sight.

Growing anxious from the blaring music and the suggestive stares you’ve been getting from multiple people you’ve passed; you grew anxious. Turning every which way to find him, you were about to break off into a jog until a strong hand grips you.

“Y/n!”

Turning around, you smile at the sight before you.

“Kiri!” You yelled in relief, throwing yourself onto Kirishima, you pull him into a tight embrace. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You laughed.

Pulling away, your eyes linger down to his body, seeing the costume he had on made your stomach drop.

“A devil” you say, voice filled with humorous disappointment. Looking back up, you watch your boyfriends’ shit-eating-grin grow wide.

“I told you we’d match!” He chuckled.

Rolling your eyes you reach your arms around his neck. The redhead pulls you in close, “let’s call a truce?” You say, looking into his auburn eyes. Kirishima lets out a groan, but looking back at you he couldn’t help but to smile.

“Truce.”

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @urdecentartist09 , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner, @snxwycloud , @skylardarling

#mha headcanons #mha #lovelyiida #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #kirishima headcanon #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima x reader

[storydays]

We'll Keep This Love in a Photograph John Dory X Fem Reader

Laughter filled the clearing, as BroZone and the Pop sisters sat around the camp fire. Turns out sitting around and roasting marshmallows was fun. In order to build their relationships strong, BroZone decided to have monthly get togethers, and each sibling got to choose where they hung out, and this monthly is was John Dory's turn.

"Hey, JD! I found this photo book while I was looking for more hot chocolate, which I found by the way, but who are these Trolls?" Poppy asked, coming out with a picture book in her hands.

John Dory froze seeing the book, face falling into a sad smile as he gently took the book from the Pop Queen. "John? You okay?" Floyd asked, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Y-yeah..." The oldest Troll trailed off, clearly not in the moment anymore. Floyd shared a look with Bruce, and looked at the now open book that changed John Dory's mood.

The first picture of a much younger John Dory holding the camera , and a female Troll both grinning wildly at the camera, and they were both dressed in winter clothes, covered in snow, the female holding a pair of ski poles in her hand.

"This, uh, is another part of why I've been gone so long. This photo book is all that's left of them."

He took a few pictures out with gentle hands, and passed them around the group.

"This is...sorry, was (Y/N)...she was my wife. She used to run a ski lodge in the Nerverglade Trails with her family." He chuckled fondly, thinking of the wild adrenaline junkie Troll. "She taught me how to ski, and I taught her how to make Grandma's flavorberry pie. She had the biggest sweet tooth ever, even bigger than you two, Poppyseed and Viva."

The others looked between the pictures and John Dory, feeling the happy energy coming from the oldest Troll, as he looked back on these fond memories.

"We dated for about 3 years, before she proposed." "Wait, she proposed?" Bruce asked, tilting his head, clearly invested in the story...he was the Heartthrob for a reason, he'd always been sucker for a good love story and happy endings.

John Dory laughed loudly, making his brothers smile. "Yeah, Sweet Tooth wasn't very patient. She did what she wanted whenever she wanted, and took everyone on the ride along with her."

Branch then showed Poppy a a photo booth style picture of John Dory and (Y/N) in their wedding clothes: JD holding (Y/N) bridal style, grinning , switching their wedding clothes, both making silly faces, and finally the two sharing a kiss, holding each other close.

"Once we were married, we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves, so it wasn't a surprise when she told me she was pregnant." John showed Clay a picture of an polka dotted egg on a pillow with (second favorite color), fluffy bangs poking out, with smirking (Y/N) holding up a onesie that said, "You can stop asking now❤️." and John Dory clearly excited, frozen in time looking at the egg in awe.

Clay and Viva were both looking at a picture of John Dory sleeping on the couch with the tiny infant resting on his chest, (Y/N) looking like she was trying hard not to squeal.

Floyd smiled at the little toddler now making a face as she wore her father's goggles and a diaper, (Y/N) holding her stomach clearly laughing. "She was a wild child, wasn't she?" the second youngest BroZone member asked.

"Took after her mama, that's for sure. Her name was Cara. My little Cara Beara." Rhonda squealed excitedly, remembering the little Trolling. Bruce smiled at the little nickname before frowning. "Wait, was? John, what happened?"'

John Dory scowled at his hands, before looking sadly at the final photo that made its way into his hands. It was the last picture they'd taken before it happened. Cara was a big girl, now at the age of 8 years old, resting on her dad's back, and her mom's hand on her shoulder. (Y/N), holding 2 pairs of ice skates, but she was also wearing a pair of compression socks on her feet. John Dory was holding the camera on a stick, to do a group selfie.

"Cara wanted to learn to ice skate, and (Y/N)'s been skating since she was a kid, so obviously she was the best choice. It was going to be below freezing later that night, and we wanted to get Cara out in nature before hen. So while they were skating, I wanted to surprise them with a hot chocolate movie night snack bar. I came back to Rhonda, and I noticed it started to get darker."

JD exhaled softly, tearing up. "I went to go get them, still skating, and having fun. So I went to get them, when I saw a fox creeping towards my girls. I yelled out to them, and started running, hoping to get to them in time." John Dory flinched, as if he was relieving the moment again. "I was too far to get to them, and by the time (Y/N) realized I was saying, the fox ate them both in one bite."

John Dory pushed the palm of his hands into his eyes fighting the tears, threatening to spill, losing the battle and letting out a sob, as he continued to berate himself.

"It was my fault! If I'd been out there and skating, instead of inside with Rhonda, we would've gotten out and home safely! I'd promise to protect them, and I turned my back on them! If they didn't get eaten,(Y/N) would've taken Cara and left me because I--" John was cut off by his brothers hugging him tightly, Floyd sniffling softly.

"JD, we've seen the pictures...there was so much love between you, (Y/N), and even more so when Cara was born. You did what you could, and they're with you now, even if you can't see them." Bruce sniffed, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Brandy had 2 miscarriages before they got pregnant. "You've carried this burden that wasn't yours, for so long. It was an accident." Floyd whispered.

JD gripped on to his brothers, sobbing quietly, letting them take on some of his pain.

Poppy and Viva placed a supporting hand on one of JD's shoulders, in silent support. Viva noticed a slight glow out of the corner of the eye. She nudged Poppy, who gasped, catching the brothers' attention.

Standing a few feet away, petting Rhonda was a ghost version of (Y/N) and Cara, both of their smiles brightening when they saw the group looking at them.

"It was never your fault, Daredevil. It was an accident. But we're okay now, John." "Yeah! Now we can watch out for you, just like you did for us Daddy!" Cara yelled excitedly, before going over to hug her dad. John Dory gasped, feeling her hold on to him, before hugging her tightly back. (Y/N) came over to join the family hug. The rest of BroZone smiled softly, seeing the family together.

"Enjoy your brothers, go on adventures do you can tell us all about it." (Y/N) cooed, as she and Cara backed away and began to fade away. "Bye Daddy! We love you!" "Goodbye, my love. We'll wait for you to come home." promised (Y/N), as they faded away completely, John sobbing harder in his brothers' arm, holding that last picture in his hands.

"We keep this love in a photograph."

Wow that one got away from me lol

Let me know what you guys think!

@vacayisland

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch #clay trolls #john dory #broppy #trolls branch #trolls poppy #branch x poppy #john dory trolls #john dory x reader #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #storydays #trolls 3 #trolls fandom #ed sheeran

[funbirdnest]

Blackbird (Translation)

I worked in the translation of the story for the past week and I have been unable to shut up about until now. This translation work was done in collaboration of @spectralpooch who worked as English proofreader and provided a lot of insight of the english grammar and composition. I was also helped by Yuko and Asher who helped with wording.

I hope you get to enjoy, even if just a little, the love we all put in this story that we have been waiting seven years for. 

Blackbird

The fantasy is burning.

—At the end of the day, love always prevails.

—Hard work and good intentions are always rewarded.

—As long as you wish for it with all your might, your dreams will always come true.

Such are the nonsensical, gibberish words that everyone recognizes as downright lies once they reach adulthood. And burning within a bonfire is the pile of papers—the representation of the very innocence of a young boy who earnestly believed in those lies.

The embers of dreams and hopes are stirred by the updraft caused by the hot air.

Ashes and soot soar up, miserably staining the clear skies.

“Aah, what a terrible shame.”

Hibiki Wataru looked up at the sky and, in sharp contrast to his words, trembled with pleasure.

He is a beautiful man.

Long, silver-white hair that resembles moonlight incarnate. A physique blessed with a perfect golden ratio.

He is wearing his elegantly designed uniform in quite an incomprehensible way.

His facial expressions and gestures are refined and effusively charming, and it feels as though wing scales and fluorescent lights should flutter around him with every step he takes.

But it is precisely because he is too beautiful that he can stand out in any town.

Every person who passes by throws him a strange look and either turns away or flees the scene as if having just encountered a monster. It is the most appropriate reaction when confronted with a monstrosity, but—

He wants them to at least scream.

To curse, spit, and throw stones at him.

It hurts the most to be ignored.

As if to convey this point, Wataru gestures towards them in invitation to do so—but the only one willing to approach him is a slightly dirtied pigeon.

"Aah, Gil! Poor you, Gilles de Rais¹! Your feathers are completely sullied!" 

Wataru laments while rubbing his cheek against the pigeon perched on his shoulder.

"When you are covered in soot like this, you look more like a crow than a pigeon! Crows are really smart, and they can become great ‘entertainers’ when trained, but people often hate them for no reason—it's troublesome, isn't it?"

At the sight of Wataru having a conversation with a pigeon as though it were completely normal, the people around him begin to back further away.

"... But right now, I have the feeling that such an individual would be the most suitable companion for me."

As Wataru mutters sadly to himself, the soot-covered pigeon pulls his hair with its beak.

“That hurts?! It was just a joke, Gil! Are you jealous? I've raised and looked after you since you were an egg, so there's no way I could ever discard you and look for another partner! Please cheer up—oya?”

As the pigeon goes all out on him, something falls down from the crevice of its beak. 

Cinders.

The wreckage of a dream that had been carried by the wind from afar.

“That's splendid! This will solve the problem of my ink running out!”

Wataru exclaims with pleasure and mashes the cinders with his fingertips.

Then, with fingers stained in black, he writes his name in the bundle of documents that he had been holding.

“—With this, it’s finished.”

Embracing the bundle of documents as though it were his most prized possession, Wataru trembles again.

“I wonder if he will be happy with this.”

***

There was a war.

A tragic conflict in which boys hurt and killed each other for the sake of their own dreams and ideals—for the sake of love.

Of course, although it has now become a gloomy and sorrowful memory, it was not actually a battle where people fought with guns and blades and bathed in each other's blood.

All of them were idols.

Standing on the stage, singing and dancing, their top priority was to bring people happiness.

However, at that time, their place of residence, Yumenosaki Private Academy, was not an environment in which idols could properly live as idols. Everything was decayed, stagnant and rotten.

There were those who stood up in order to change the situation at hand.

There were also those who tried to fight back in anger and sorrow after everything they held dear had been mangled in the name of the "revolution" the others had raised.

They turned the things that were supposed to make people happy into weapons, abused them, and imposed their own resentment and misery onto others.

As a result, this vast and boundless world was changed only slightly.

But the price that had been paid was extremely high.

—Yumenosaki 's era of conflict.

—The first revolution.

—The beginning of the end.

Regret consumes everyone whenever they remember the tragedy of that time.

***

A hospital room.

The brand new hospital in the vicinity of Yumenosaki Academy had been built with a sole purpose: to provide an immediate response on the occasion that a single person's physical condition changed for the worse.

Leading-edge medical equipment and top-notch doctors had been assembled in order to forcibly prolong his existence—sometimes even diverting attention from other, more urgent patients.

He is one of the world's most distinguished billionaires, the scion of the Tenshouin conglomerate, Tenshouin Eichi.

He is the leading actor in the conflict that unfolded in Yumenosaki.

He loved idols more than anyone else.

However, as a result of the kingcraft instilled in him from an early age by his private corporate tutor, the clear mind he has naturally possessed since birth, and his cold heart, he came to massacre the very thing he loved with his own hands.

The many sins he committed in this ironic twist of fate tormented him and made him sick.

“...”

Tenshouin Eichi is lying down on the floor of a very spacious hospital room.

He is also a beautiful man, but there is a crack distorting his beauty.

Seemingly because he hasn’t been eating, he has become emaciated, and his blond hair, which resembles sunlight incarnate², is disheveled and dull. His hospital clothes, composed of high-quality material, are completely wrinkled and dirtied.

Like a baby bird that fell from its nest.

He had ripped off the intravenous drips and other pieces of medical equipment designed to keep him alive and smashed them to pieces.

There were doctors who genuinely cared for Eichi's well-being and those whose interest in treating him stemmed only from professional duty—Eichi shunned them all equally with curses and threats.

—I don’t want to live anymore.

—So, please, don’t treat me.

—Someone like me doesn’t deserve to live.

“No.”

Eichi, withering and on the verge of death, hears a voice reply to the soliloquy he hadn't expected anyone to hear.

There is only a single small window in the room. No matter how hard one might try to contort their body, it would be impossible to enter through—regardless, it was from that very window that Hibiki Wataru's towering silhouette soundlessly entered. 

It is like a dream.

As if it were a magic trick, he suddenly materializes.

“—It's you. Hibiki Wataru of The Five Eccentrics.”

"That story has already concluded, so will you please stop referring to me that way?"

As he casually replies to Eichi, who had spoken as though in a trance, Wataru strides across the hospital room.

He steps over the countless broken pieces of wreckage scattered across the floor, but never breaks anything.

“Let's readjust our mindset! Now, while we still have the chance to bask in the success of our stage performances, let's sit back and recharge our batteries! That is our duty, Tenshouin Eichi-kun!"

“Just what the hell are you doing here?”

Eichi mutters reproachfully, glaring up at Wataru with cruel eyes.

“Did you come to mock me because I thought I was victorious but wound up losing everything?”

Presumably too prideful to continue behaving in an undignified manner, Eichi staggers to his feet and then takes a seat on the mattress.

Having refused even the cleaning staff, this dirty hospital bed is now his only throne.

“Or do you intend to seek vengeance on behalf of your fellow Five Eccentrics?”

“No, not at all? Although there were some underwhelming parts, you still persevered and accomplished great things atop the stage! You have my praises. I have no reason to make fun of you!”

Wataru continues, his tone cheerful. Scattered, multicolored petals surround a broken flower vase—he gathers them up, grasps them in one hand, and opens his palm to reveal a single perfect flower.

"Besides, my beloved friends, The Five Eccentrics, were not actually killed. They're not that fragile, so I ask that you do not disparage them."

Though his eyes flash with hostility for a single instant, Wataru hides it with the ease of putting on a mask.

“Shu is slowly recovering his strength in the comfort of his dolls and the mutual love they share. Kanata, too, is embarking on a new life together with the inexperienced hero who saved his heart. And, of course, Our Majesty, the Demon King, Rei, too—indeed, someone like him will never die, even if he's killed.”

As he mentions each of the remarkable members of The Five Eccentrics, Wataru smiles.

“And the youngest sibling whom we risked our lives to protect, Natsume-kun, doesn't have a single scar. He quickly found the bluebird you set free, and is venturing forth into his life—not as a member of The Five Eccentrics, but as a human and idol.”

"...They're so strong. Everyone, all of them, are strong and splendid human beings worthy of respect—unlike me. Hiyori-kun and Nagisa-kun, too. It appears that they’ve already begun to move on to their next stage."

Looking somewhat astonished, Eichi hangs his head like a confused lost child.

“Am I really the only one who can’t move? At the end of Yumenosaki's conflict, or the saga chronicling the subjugation of The Five Eccentrics, am I truly the only loser?”

“No, no. I feel the same way. It's embarrassing to admit, but—I don't know what I should do next.”

With a dumbfounded expression that mirrors Eichi's, Wataru fidgets with the flower with his black-stained fingers.

“I'm quite satisfied with how things concluded on that most wonderful stage, even though we had to settle for the second-best result—but I'm at a bit of a loss, as I have no further plans for the future.”

"I see. Would you like me to apologize? By casting you in the role of the villain, a symbol deserving of ridicule and disdain, I turned you into the target of everyone's malice."

“Yes. Thanks to you, no one trusts me enough to work with me, so all of my future plans are now uncertain. I suppose I could arrange a stage and enact a story of my own choosing, but… A one-man show would be a little lonely, wouldn't it?”

"I thought that you would always be happy to stand onstage no matter what—even alone."

“Regrettably, I'm an entertainer whose only purpose is to make others happy. If I were to stand onstage all by myself, I would lose all motivation.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Wataru quietly offers Eichi the flower.

”And so, I thought I would ask you, the organizer of the most satisfying stage I have ever stood upon, for another commission. That's the reason I came today. Of course, I am also here to visit the sick."

“Was that sarcasm? I humiliated and denigrated you and your beloved friends. I trampled on and killed all of you for the sake of my own dream.”

“No one is dead, Eichi-kun. Everything that took place is just a story.”

”Are you really going to behave like a sore loser and pretend like you all weren't actually hurt?”

"No. If I were to hold a grudge and get angry at you, it would be an insult to my friends' extraordinary performance in their roles as villains. That's why I won't give you the pleasure of my vengeance.”

“I don’t understand your reasoning.”

“It’s a mystery to me too. This is the first time in my life that I have ever felt this alive. It's as though something I cannot quite comprehend is stirring inside me.”

Wataru speaks with an innocent, puzzled expression on his face, as though he were a child who had just tripped for the very first time in his life.

***

“Oops. I went off on a tangent just now, but I meant to give you this gift earlier.”

Suddenly coming to his senses, Wataru quietly hands Eichi the flower in his hand.

The instant that the flower touches Eichi's fingertips, it transforms into a bundle of documents.

It’s just like magic.

“... Oh, my goodness. As always, your magic tricks are beyond comparison, Hibiki-kun.”

“You and I are not particularly close, so don't blurt out things like that as if you know me.”

“I’ve always been watching you.”

Eichi speaks honestly, seemingly too tired to maintain a strong front. He proceeds to look over the bundle of papers.

His expression dawns with astonishment.

“This is—”

“Fufufu. This is the pipe dream³ written by our beloved younger brother and only son, Natsume-kun. He poured all of his heart and soul into it.”

Wataru explains, satisfied with the surprised expression on Eichi's face.

“This is a scenario envisioning a way in which we, The Five Eccentrics, could have achieved victory over you in our final battle the other day.”

“Oh, that's right, just before the decisive battle, you and the other Five Eccentrics had some kind of exchange. I was preoccupied with other matters at the time, so I didn't pay much attention to what all of you were up to.”

Deeply immersed in reading, Eichi flips through the stack of documents carefully. A grin slowly begins to form on his lips.

“Fufu. So cute; it’s really like a fantasy story. ‘I don't want my beloved Five Eccentrics to lose. I want us to have a happy ending where no one has to be sacrificed—’”

"Indeed. He filled the pages with such impossible fantasies and impractical delusions."

“... It was only by defeating you on that stage that we somehow managed to settle things in a conclusive way. If the five of you had won that day, we would still be enmeshed in the middle of an unending conflict.”

"Exactly. I anticipated as much, which is why I was unable to accept this. This present, packed with that child's—with Natsume-kun's—dreams, expectations, and love.”

“And, because we followed the premeditated arrangement, everything went smoothly.”

“That's true. But, just as one would expect from a story desperately written by our beloved child... It's very compelling, isn't it? It'd be heartless to ignore it altogether and just throw it away.”

Wataru gently caresses the pile of documents as if consoling a little baby.

“And that's why I quickly examined the contents, committed them to memory, and secretly copied them. Only moments ago, Natsume-kun burned the original copy himself, so—that child's fantasy should, by all accounts, have been completely erased from this earth.”

Wataru laughs like a naughty child who just successfully carried out a prank.

“Everyone will assume so. And even though this is an imitation, the contents are extremely close to the real thing. No, rather, the contents are only the things that I chose to resurrect in accordance with my own preferences.”

“Hmph. But there's no way you can actually use this, right? It's just a bunch of delusions with no grounding in reality. In other words: worthless garbage. It's nothing more than a work of fiction that fabricates convenient plots for foolish readers who yearn to avert their eyes from this harsh reality.”

Eichi drops the pile of documents onto the dirty bed and sneers at it.

“It has no bearing on the real world. Those kinds of stories only exist in the minds of idealistic writers. It's not the real thing. It's not reality.”

“Right. And so, I'd like to ask you, with your firm grasp on reality, to please rework it.”

“...?”

“You're hospitalized, so you have a lot of free time, correct?”

Wataru smiles, carefully gathering up the documents Eichi dropped one by one.

“Please use that spare time to improve upon this document. And adapt it into a new story in which The Five Eccentrics, your opponents, achieve victory.”

“What would be the point of doing such a thing?”

“You must be prepared for anything the future decides to throw your way, no matter how incredibly low the chances of it actually occurring may be. You know this better than anyone, but you were born with a fragile constitution, so—you could die at any time.”

“...You're right. And now that I've lost my will to live, I'm even refusing treatment.”

“And if you, the main character of this story, were to die and abruptly, nonsensically disappear from the narrative, the entire plot would collapse.”

“.....”

"Do you understand what I mean, Eichi-kun?"

“I understand, Hibiki-kun.”

Eichi's eyes, as cloudy as a corpse's, begin to sparkle.

“I have a responsibility. A responsibility as a protagonist—as an author. I have to be prepared for when my character dies and vanishes from this world—from the story.”

"Yes. However, you don't strike me as an expert storyteller, so I thought it'd be convenient to use something as a basis—for the story. This pipe dream written by Natsume-kun is quite suitable in terms of both content and quality, right?”

“That's right. It's the story that the child prodigy, the youngest member of The Five Eccentrics, wove out of his own life force.”

This time, Eichi doesn’t sneer sarcastically. As he praises his enemy, an honest smile appears on his face.

“Thank you, Hibiki-kun. Since this is a story founded on the premise of my imminent death, I can't let Keito, who hates the thought of me dying more than anyone else, write it.”

Eichi's eyes widen, surprised at the deep affection with which he spoke these words.

He'd assumed he'd lost everything. And yet—is he only now remembering that there are still things worth loving?

“I'll write it. To ensure the story will continue after I'm gone.”

Growing more and more energetic, Eichi stains his fingers with the filth splattered across his bed and begins to scrawl on the back of the stack of documents. His handwriting is so sluggish and messy that no one besides him could possibly read it.

“First of all, let's ensure that I get defeated while I'm still alive. After bringing down The Five Eccentrics and seizing control of everything, I become a power-crazed tyrant. And so, a new generation of heroes stands up to defeat me. It could be Natsume-kun, the surviving member of The Five Eccentrics, or someone else.”

“Yes ♪ And then? What will happen next in this story?”

“It's not enough to merely change the person in power. The masses themselves should mobilize and take action into their own hands to improve the world. Yes, the next step is the people's revolution. That's why... errr... aaahh—”

Eichi is so absorbed in the moment that he scatters the documents. He clutches his head with both hands.

“I can’t work through my thoughts! I'm not a genius, so this is really hard for me! Aah, this is pathetic, and I have no right to ask this of you, but—Can you help me come up with more ideas, Hibiki-kun?”

“Yes, with pleasure ♪ I also have some time to spare, after all!”

Wataru sits on the bed and happily gazes at Eichi, who has become entirely absorbed in the act of weaving⁴ the beginnings of a new story.

“I look forward to seeing what sort of stage I'll stand on next. Aah, in both my past and present, this has always been my only source of happiness.”

“I'm out of paper! I also want something to write with! Hibiki-kun, isn't there somewhere nearby where you could buy some?”

“Yes, yes. Aren't you supposed to be my fan? Are you sure you should be bossing me around like this?”

With a smile that seems to say, Well, it doesn't really matter, Wataru shifts like a bird about to take flight.

“Come on, let's celebrate, let's weave, let's create—a story! In this second iteration, the tragedy will become a comedy! Yes, I'm certain that this next work will be a very enjoyable story!”

“Enough, enough! Stop saying unnecessary things and just hurry up! Before life leaves my body!”

“Yes, yes. You really know how to put people to work, Mr. Author... ♪”

………

And so, Hibiki Wataru chose to assist Tenshouin Eichi in the creation of his story.

Together, they supported one another, engaged in heated debates, and envisioned the future.

It was at the end of that gloomy winter when the two of them, now fine, the rulers of Yumenosaki Academy, were defeated by the revolutionaries of Trickstar.

It was a season when the seeds carried by dirty, exhausted birds finally bloomed into flowers.

1. Gilles de Rais was a leader of the French army and participated in the Hundred Years’ War alongside Jeanne d’Arc as a companion of arms. Later in his life he went on to become a serial killer of children and was condemned to death and hanged. 

In the story “Cinderella on the Stake's Stage,” it’s revealed that Wataru also has a pigeon called “Jeanne d’Arc.”

2. Akira describes Eichi’s hair as “陽光を固めたような” = “As if sunlight has taken physical shape”. Likewise this is also the way he describes Wataru’s hair “月光を固めたような” = “As if moonlight has taken physical shape”.

3. We chose to interchange the words pipe dream and fantasy through the story but they often refer to the same script Natsume wrote.

4. Weaving reads as “Tsumugi” here.

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars!! #enstars #enstars translation #translation #eichi tenshouin #wataru hibiki #ensemble stars! #Blackbird

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: M •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: You've met your Dad's best friend before.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: This one was so difficult.

Warnings: Implied sexy times, Reader has a sort of family backstory, Reader's Dad had Reader very young, Reader has a good relationship with their Dad, Jake being a flirt, swearing, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 776

“And this is Jake.” 

Your smile freezes on your face as your Dad gestures to his aforementioned best friend. If it wasn’t for the grounding warmth of his hand on your arm you were sure you would have had an out of body experience. 

Him. 

Oh fuck.

How could it be him?

“Nice to finally meet you Jake.” You nod and shake his hand when he holds his out to you.

“Likewise.” His own smile is polite, tailored to a mask of neutrality that you can see through. He’s shitting himself just as much as you are. 

Your Dad laughs, thankfully oblivious to the sudden tension in air. “I’m glad you two could finally meet.” 

If it wasn’t for social norms you’d turn on your heels and just march right out of there. Maybe you could hide somewhere in the crowd. 

Your Father and Step-Mother were renewing their vows, and were throwing an ‘engagement’ party of sorts. 

They’d long ago moved out of the town you’d grown up in, as had you and sadly your new home was further away from them than you’d have liked. So you didn’t get to see them in person as much as you wanted to. 

Jake had met your Dad about four years ago, the two becoming fast friends. From what your Dad had told you Jake travelled a lot, but when they did meet up they always got on like a house on fire. He was, as well, a little camera shy. Covering his face or ducking out of the way in group photos, so the most you’d ever seen of him was the arm of his leather jacket, a blurred cap, or the scruff of curls poking just into frame. 

It had become a running joke that this ‘Jake’ was either imaginary, or a spy.

Your Dad had had you young, an accident that he always called ‘his greatest achievement’. Despite his youth and the barely sixteen years between you, he had been and was a wonderful father. 

Someone calls your Dad’s name and he excuses himself quickly, darting off before you even have a chance to protest. 

You look after him forlornly, your shoulders slumping. 

Maybe running away wasn’t such a break of social norms. 

“Hi.” Jake says softly, having taken a step closer. 

You turn back to him. He’s shoved his hands in his pocket, looking down before giving you an uncertain smile.

You return the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry-” You blurt out.

“I didn’t know you-” He starts at the same time.

You both laugh. 

“What are the odds?” He says with a shrug. 

“Well, I guess a fondness for you runs in the family?” 

Jake pulls a face and you laugh. 

“Don’t say that.” He grins. 

You try and fail to hide your smile. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “Maybe… if I’d told you my name?” 

“Well,” you shift your weight, relaxing a little. “I didn’t tell you mine either.”

“We were a little preoccupied.” 

“Hmm.” You nod and close your eyes for a second to let the wave of embarrassment pass. “The first time yeah… but I think by the sixth we probably should have.” 

He laughs again. It’s a musical sound, deep and rich. Calming in its certainty. “What did you save my number as?” 

Heat burns a little under your skin. “Pretty guy.” 

“Pretty guy?” His eyebrows raise, but not in upset, just surprise. 

“Yeah, well,” you pull a face. “You’re pretty and a guy, so…”

He puffs his chest out a little, leaning a fraction closer. “You think I’m pretty.” He teases. 

You give him a sincere look. “I think you’re beautiful.” 

The honesty gives him pause for just a beat before he quickly recovers. “Says you.” 

“Says me?” 

“Yeah, says you. You’re stunning.” He lightly touches your forearm, his fingertips just ghosting over your skin.

You swallow, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Shut up. What do you have me saved as then?” 

He grins, not breaking eye contact for a moment before he pulls out his phone and shows you your contact information. There’s a single red heart emoji listed as your name. 

“I didn’t take you as a romantic.” You tease.

He chuckles, leaning close and whispering in your ear. “Haven’t been treating you right then, have I?” He softly brushes the tip of his nose along your ear and you shiver. “Let me show you just how romantic I can be?” 

He leans back just enough for you to see his expression, the question in his dark eyes as he nods his head towards the venue doors. 

You grin. “Let’s get out of here.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[blockgamepirate]

By the way if you're waiting for the new season of Hermitcraft and can't bear it any longer, can I interest you in checking out ZloyXP (or SloyXP, honestly I never know which name to use ahdhgjjg)

Yes, he's the main writer/editor of Hermitcraft Recap, that guy. He's also a Minecraft YouTuber himself

I've been really enjoying his Create Mod series:

Seriously, check out the first episode at least, it's so fun watching him get excited over the pretty blocks and immediately testing if he can crush himself with the mechanical press (sadly no) or if he can chop down ALL the trees at once with the mechanical saw (yes)

Also Zloy and Ly messing around with mods is one of my favourite kinds of series (I still remember Skytekia so fondly, just the goofiest nonsense, playing a mod that's very much not intended for Skyblock in Skyblock)

#zloyxp #sloyxp

[urdepressedslut]

You could never hurt me

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of choking

It was fair to say that shit had hit the fan, the sliver of calm that was held before… ripped away.

Somehow Bucky was triggered into The Winter Soldier, allowing many to see how he was in action up close. Much to Bucky's dismay, nobody trusted him even more now. Besides his close friends that is, which sadly wasn't many.

The trio, Sam, Steve and (Y/n) had tried their best to subdue the soldier, but were easily outmatched.

Sam walked away with a sore back, some bruises here and there, while Steve was able to come out of the tussle without many marks himself. (Y/n) on the other hand, had some pretty bad bruising circling her neck. She felt fine physically, having taken worse damage at some other time in her life. Though emotionally she felt torn, knowing that Bucky wasn't in control, but she knew that wouldn't stop him from punishing himself.

Able to seclude them four away from prying eyes, the trio waited for Bucky to wake. Steve and (Y/n) was hoping that it would be their Bucky that would eventually stir, and not the soldier.

"How you doing?" Steve asked her from her sitting spot, a good distance away from Bucky's hunched over form.

"Not too bad... I've had worse." She answered, wincing at the discomfort from speaking.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked with a 'Really?' look.

"Guess not. Sorry... I just..." She paused, exhaling painfully, "He's been through so much, he can't seem to catch a break."

"I know." He said solemnly, focusing his gaze to a spot on the floor by her shoes.

"With everyone looking for him, now we got Tony added into the search squad."

"You really think he won't help us out?" Steve asked, making (Y/n) scoff from her spot on the floor.

"It feels unfair to ask him for help... Knowing what you know." She told him, giving him a disappointed look.

Steve looked into her eyes now surprised, having not known that she was aware. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find an appropriate response.

"Its not fair Rogers... After everything he's done for us? It's not your choice, he deserves to know." She stated, giving Steve a look of disapproval.

"I know, okay?" Steve finally spoke, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"Hey Cap!" Sam shouted from his spot near Bucky, grabbing both him and hers attention, halting their current conversation.

Both making their way over, she stood behind the boys, watching Bucky cautiously.

Bucky let out a groan of discomfort, trying to sit upright, noticing his metal armed pinned. He glances around taking in the weary looks on the men's faces, while he notices (Y/n) hiding.

"Steve?"

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, not willing to take any chances.

Bucky thought hard for a moment before speaking.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," He pauses, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." He lightly chuckles, causing Steve to smile in relief.

"You can't read that in a museum." Steve stated.

"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked him.

"Sam..." (Y/n) warned, slowly stepping out from behind Steve.

"What? A guy can't be too careful." Sam told her, receiving a glare.

"Enough Sam..." She locked eyes with Bucky, "It wasn't him."

Bucky suddenly focused his gaze on her neck, wincing at the apparent hand-shaped bruise forming.

"I did that." He stated, not needing anyone to confirm for him, he was a monster.

"Buck, it wasn't you. That doctor triggered you." She told him, trying to convince him.

"But I still did it." He retorted, watching the frown form on her face.

"No, because I know you... Bucky would never hurt me." She told him.

"Doll I..." Bucky started, but stopped himself from giving her a lousy apology.

"Can you guys release his arm and give us a minute?" She asked the two.

"(Y/n) I don't think tha—"

"Please." She begged, keeping her eyes locked with Bucky's shame filled orbs.

The two nodded in agreement, releasing his arm and giving them privacy.

"Your heads bleeding, let me see." She told him.

Bucky knew he didn't deserve her kindness, but he couldn't find it in him to push her away, he craved her touch.

"Really, I'm okay." He tried to convince her, even though he was far from it.

"You've never been able to lie to me... So don't try it now." She spoke, her voice shaking just barely.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I..." He choked up, "I never wanted this to happen, my worst nightmare has come true."

Her hands held the sides of his face, smearing away the escaping tear. Rubbing her thumbs up and down, she watched the quiver in his lip slow.

"The only way you could ever hurt me, is if you left me." She cooed, feeling both his arms wrap around her sides, pulling her slightly closer in need of comfort.

"I'm supposed to protect you. I can't protect you from myself. We can't... You shouldn't be with me." His voice went to a whisper by the end, the words feeling bitter rolling off is tongue.

"I'm sorry Buck, but you're not allowed to make that decision for me. I'm always gonna stay." She spoke strongly, no more shakiness in her voice.

He went to respond, but choked on a sob. He truly didn't deserve her, and he still couldn't comprehend that after everything, she still wanted him. Leaning forward he snuggled his face in the crook of her neck. Taking in her comforting scent, he was home.

"I love you baby... I love you so much." She promised, hearing his sobs die down, his breathing slowing.

Lifting his face so that his was inches from hers, he gazed into her eyes adoringly. His eyes danced down to her lips, then met her orbs again.

"I love you (Y/n)... I don't deserve you." He whispered.

He closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a devoted kiss. He let his metal arm pull her onto his lap, letting his flesh fingers tangle themselves into her hair. They could taste their shared breath, feeling the light thump of their heartbeats against each others lips.

Pulling away from him for air, she held his face in front of hers, letting their foreheads connect. Bucky closed his eyes in content, letting their breaths warm each other.

"You deserve everything." She whispered.

A/N: im so protective of bucky, he deserves to be happy 🥺 pls feel free to send in requests 🤍

[blue-sadie]

Truly Broken

Ascended Astarion x Reader

Summary: with the new power he's gained he doesn't realize the things he's lost in till its to late

Warning: reader death dn = daughters name

Based off this post by @wilsonsmadshow

Yn/3rd person

It was all done the mission was a success and astarion became ascended but something started to tug at your heart, you didn't know what it ment and you dreaded that.

The days following you've said goodbye to your other companions and stuck with astarion who's been acting weird not his usual flirty self.

Instead he was becoming more arrogant and snappy when I ask him something even his affection was turning cold.

"Are you coming to bed astarion" I asked as I rubbed my eyes tiredly and leaned against the wooden doorframe.

He just stared blankly at the wall ignoring my existences "astarion" I murmured a bit louder as I slowly walked to him lifting up my hand to touch him.

My hand wavered I pulled back, this was the first time I ever was nervous to touch astarion I took a step back and cleared my throat to get his attention.

He sighed with annoyance "what is it" he snapped his piercing eyes turning to stare deep into mine, his gaze was different it wasn't filled with affection and love instead it looked like dispar and hatred.

"I-I asked if you wanted to come to bed" I said changing my stance out of nervousness under his gaze.

He rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the wall "no I don't think I will" he muttered my heart clenched he's never directed his hatred to me maybe somethings bothering him.

"What's wrong astarion" I asked and slowly got closer to him "what's on that mind of yours" I slowly sat of the edge of the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

"Nothings bothering me tav" he snapped and brought one of his hands up to his face and rubbing his eyes.

"I can tell,something is" I whispered and gently lifted a hand to place on his shoulder, he jerked away from me and pushed me to the floor harshly.

I squeaked in pain as I hit the floor "don't you know when to fucking stop" he yelled standing up over me, my body began shaking in fear.

"I told you to leave it and you kept annoying me" he growled stepping towards me making me crawl away with each step.

"Maybe the reason I don't want to go to bed is because your there" he muttered "you repulse me with every fiber of your being" he spat making my heart break.

"You don't mean that" I whispered making him laugh like a mad man "oh trust me darling I do, I've finished my use of you so you can leave" he mocked and pointed at door.

"W-what" my eyes filled with tears "do I need to speak clearer get the fuck out" he shouted, the tears started to fall as I nodded slowly and got to my feet shakily.

"I-if that's what you want" I snuffed and slowly making my way out the room only for a stopping for a brief second hoping he would change his mind.... but he didn't.

I only packed the essentials in a bag before quickly making my way out not daring to look at him once.

my tears blurring my vision even though he hates me I still live him and want him happy If he wants me gone then do be it.

I looked down at my slightly bulging stomach and layed a gentle hand on it, at least a small part of the old him is still with me.

-Time skip-

I raised my hand to my daughters face slowly wiping away her fallen tears "d-dont go" she cried her long grey hair falling into her face.

I smiled sadly "you remind me of your father" I coughed as I felt my time running out "of how we were when we first me" I thought back to all the great memories we had together.

"I love you dn" I whispered with my last remaining energy and slowly closed my eyes as I felt myself slip away.

Dn caught your hand as it feel and kept denying your death as her sobs grew louder "please no" she cried and brought your frail body up to hers "please mom" she sobbed.

Her cries caught the attention of the vampire her mother waited for everyday, astarion peered around a tree.

He bored his teeth already to pounce when he paused catching a wif of a familiar scent his mind whirled trying to figure out who it was.

"Are you ok" he asked stepping out from around the tree into the light, dn jumped at the sound and scurried to wipe her face.

Astarion froze as he saw your body and he felt the pain he felt all those years ago when he left you.

"Y-yn" he fell to his knees "who are you" dn asked stepping infront of you blocking his gaze and he finally looked at her and gasped at the resemblance he saw.

"A-astarion" he whispered dn looked astonished her sadness turning anger, she knew who he was you never kept the knowledge of her father from her.

The only thing you left out was why he left you "you have no right to be here" she muttered shoving him back.

"You were never here so don't think you can mourn her now" she shouted and kept pushing him back in till he was up against the tree.

"She waited for you and you never came" she anger started to turn back to sadness.

Astarion watched and his heart broke as he started to remember the words he said to you and he watched as dn went back to your side turning her back to him.

He chose to leave you and now he's getting the karma he deserves.

"Karmas a bitch"

Tag.List

@neteyamyawne

@sweetirilly

@greekgods15

#astarion x reader angst #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader angst #bg3 angst #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion #astarion angst #game characters x reader

[pommetarte]

♡ Liebling ♡

michael kaiser x reader highschool au fluff a bit of romance, the start of a relationship Strangers to friends to lovers

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"Hey, come back!" A voice called out, "You didn't give me your number yet!"

Queue to you running in the hallways away from a certain German who's been bothering you after his match just finished.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?"

You could hear him screaming out to you, but you just ignored the noises and continued running.

Prior to this predicament, it was just you and your friend who "invited" (she actually just dragged you to watch the match between your school and another local high school for a sports cup). The players of your school have been doing well so far, already making it to the finals, which was today. The crowd goes wild for every goal achieved; everyone was hyped.

Everyone had their gaze focused on a single player, though. Who else but Michael Kaiser, the German prodigy of your high school? The ace, the sole star, is God's chosen emperor. Anyone should be grateful to be in his presence; the cheers grew louder with each passing moment, much to your dismay.

You had a small scowl plastered on your face from how overwhelming the entire match was. Sports are just not your thing.

The hype did not die down; in fact, it grew tenfold. There was loud cheering and chanting as the break finished and it was time to resume.

Time flew by fast, as now the trophy is in the hands of your school. Clapping erupted in the field as people whistled and chattered. Your school won the cup yet again. It was no surprise after all.

When the match was over, you quickly took your chance to escape. Sadly, your escape didn't go unnoticed by a certain someone as a larger figure began sprinting towards you.

' What could this idiot want?' you thought to yourself.

A hand was placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn your head around and face whoever was reaching out to you. To your surprise, it was Michael Kaiser. With a wide grin on his face and a confident demeanor, he strode towards you, flaunting himself.

"Hey, what's your name, Liebling?" he says, trying to strike up a conversation with you amidst the crowd swarming him.

It was just not your day. Exhausted and drained, you only sighed and turned around, continuing your way back to the classrooms to pick up your belongings and leave, hopefully back home.

Kaiser did not appreciate that; he continued to follow you, determined to not give up, as he shooed the crowd away. Seeing your pace increase instantly made him pick up his, and soon enough, it became a chase amidst the hallway, with him occasionally yelling for you to stop.

That's basically what led to you being trapped in a corner with him pestering you about your number and other details. Why would he want to know your class, schedule, and even subjects? It was so out of character.

Exasperated, you responded, telling him your name with a deadpan look. You looked so gorgeous even when irritated, he thought to himself.

He then looks at you with a genuine smile adorning his handsome face.

"Wow. You look so cool in that outfit. I almost want to say you're wearing that with love, but I guess I'll just call it curiosity. Oh my, how I've been missing out. I've never been with someone who made me feel this much joy." He muses loudly, proud of what he just said.

Your face had the most shocked look, as you could not believe what you heard. You could feel a blush slowly creeping onto your face as you averted your gaze.

"We can't just suddenly become friends; we barely even know each other. I only know you as a football  player."You protested, trying to cover your face.

"so? Is that even a problem?" he asked nonchalantly.

'Yes, of course it is; you don't just suddenly befriend strangers!"

"Well, I do if it's you," he winks.

You don't know whether to hit him or feel flattered.

"Anyways, can I please have your number? I really think you're cute. I've seen you around for a while, and you're always so pleasant and caring. I'd like to be friends, or maybe even more," he smiles, holding out his phone to you.

'Fine, just don't bother me too much, ok?" you say. You won't lie to yourself, but in fact, being in his attention made you feel all flustered. You feel your face heating up and the temperature rising.

Kaiser took note of it and slipped in a comment, earning a small smack from you before you typed in your number.

After you just walked away, Kaiser didn't stop you, only smiling as he looked down on the name he saved on his phone.

"Liebling ♡"

He whispers as he saves the number, his eyes resting on your figure as you leave.

And this was the beginning of what you'd like to call a very close 'friendship', although it was nothing like that at all.

Well, it blossomed into something more than that. 

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #writing #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #bllk headcanons #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #bllk x you #kaiser x you #kaiser michael #kaiser fluff #bluelock #ブルーロック #bllk fluff #bllk fanfic #michael kaiser x reader

[pearbunny]

Itty Bitty

Or Stray Kids' reactions to their significant other being insecure about their small chest size.

paring: ot8 (separately) x reader. genre: Domesticated fluff, humor, comfort, but also contains a tad bit of explicit content [minors do not interact]. warnings: obviously talks about reader's insecurity (having a flatter chest than what they would like), boobies, cursing, playful teasing, sarcasm, pet names: baby, kitten, love, angel baby/babe, bubs/bubby, baby love. (sappy I know sorry) suggestive themes/explicit content... kind of? Idk Chan grabs some ass and Han gropes some titty. [again, minors do not interact]. word count: each member ranges from 300 - 600 words. a/n: First of these I've done so seeing this as a writing exercise but also something to hold over since ch 8 of TBL has been postponed lmao. Also, sorry for the excessive pet names, I just think its fun to imagine what they would call their s/o.

Bang Christopher Chan

The water pressure from the shower head above subsides as you turn it off. You grab the towel you had prepared for yourself on top of the sliding door, patting yourself dry before wrapping it around your frame. You tuck the end of the towel between your breasts and slide the shower door open, landing your feet on the fluffy bath mat. 

“Chris,” you call to your boyfriend just feet away from you at the bathroom sink. 

“Yes, baby?” He looks at you through the reflection of the mirror, bent forward over the sink to examine his shaving work on his face. 

“Mmm,” You pause and look for the towel you typically use to dry your hair. The Australian man hands you the microfiber towel that was on your side of the double vanity sink to which you take it with a smile. “Thanks.”

Chan leans back over the sink, this time washing his face to get rid of the shaving cream. You observe the muscles of his exposed back flex and tense under his tanned skin, momentarily forgetting everything on your mind. With his face patted dry, he turns around to you and reaches his hand to gently take your wrist, pulling you close to him. 

You chuckle sadly at yourself, a little embarrassed to even be speaking the words out loud. “Do you think my boobs could be bigger?” 

A beat passes before Chan tugs you closer to him and positions you in front of the mirror. "Come here." He grabs your leave-in conditioner off the vanity and applies it into your hair. You’ve talked to him about the importance of hair care enough times that he’s taken the initiative to pay attention to your hair care routine. He works it through your hair and you can’t help but close your eyes at the gentle massage he gives your scalp in the process. “Baby, where in the world is this coming from?”

You shrug your shoulders and hold onto your towel, feeling it slip a little. “Shower thoughts, I guess?”

Chan points at the wide tooth comb over your shoulder and you hand it to him. He gently runs it through your hair, starting at the bottom. “Well I think you’re beautiful no matter what, but if that’s something you want to look into, I support you.” 

You think about the possibility and turn to him, placing your hands on his chest, fingers grazing gently over his skin. “Even if I want to get them done?”

Chan nods once and looks down at you, warmth in his eyes. “Of course.” 

You give him a silly pout. You’ve never considered it seriously, but it was nice to know he supported you. “But what if it's expensive?”

He places his hands on your waist, rubbing gentle curls against the fabric of your bath towel with his thumbs. “Then we save up.”

You thank whatever higher being allowed you to live in the same lifetime as this man. “Really?”

“Of course, babe. It’s whatever you want.” 

You melt into his arms and place a chaste kiss on his lips. 

The corners of Chan’s eyes crinkle as he grins widely, his hands sneaking to the curve of your ass, giving it a rough squeeze. “More of an ass man anyway.” 

Lee Minho

“Kitten.” Minho attempts to grab your attention as he stirs the curry sauce in the pan in front of him, preparing dinner.  “Hmm?” You slant your head over in his direction, looking up from your research paper on the laptop in front of you. 

“Why would you want bigger boobs?” He’s not even looking in your direction, instead focusing on his multiple cooking tasks. He goes back to making sure the chicken breast is thoroughly coated with panko bread crumbs.

“Wh-what?” You stuttered, slightly taken aback. You’re not sure where he's coming from.

“You were talking with your friend earlier and I overheard you saying that sometimes you wished you had bigger boobs.” Again, he’s not looking at you. Instead, he puts oil into a pan and heats it up until it’s sizzling to put in the coated chicken. 

“Oh, yeah.” You laugh a bit, closing your laptop before joining him at the stove. You do your best to keep out of the way whenever Minho’s cooking in the kitchen, instead delegating yourself the task of clean up. “Well, it’s just sometimes I think having bigger boobs would be fun.”  He stays quiet and you know from being with Minho long enough that his silence means he wants you to continue that thought. 

“Like bikinis for example or dresses.  Or how I could put stuff in my bra whenever I don’t have pockets and I don’t wanna carry a purse.” You give a very relaxed shrug of your shoulders. Your chest size is an insecurity of yours, sure, but it’s never really in the forefront of your thoughts. 

“Well then,” He takes the chicken breast in a pair of tongs and drops it into the oil. “I want a bigger dick.” 

“Minho, what?” You look at him incredulously. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you want a bigger dick?”

As the chicken breast sizzles, he stirs again at his curry sauce. “You wouldn’t like me if I had a bigger dick?”

You don’t even have to think about the answer, “I think your dick is perfect.” 

Minho takes the fried chicken katsu out of the oil and places it on a plate with a napkin on it, draining it of the excess oil. “You like my dick the way it is, then?”

You nod at him and take a taste of the curry in the ladle that he holds up to your lips. “Yes. I like your dick the way it is.” The curry is perfect, just the way you like it and it’s just then you realize what he’s done. 

“Oh… I see what you did there.” You give him a small shy smile. 

Minho gives you a toothless smile, his lips very akin to how you think a cat would smile. He takes the apron off from around his waist and prepares your plate, placing it in front of you. 

“Good.” As you take a bite, he gently pats the top of your head.

Seo Changbin

Changbin comes through the door at 8am on a Sunday morning, dropping his gym bag by the door next to his shoes. He shuffles on over to your form in the kitchen, hugging you from behind. “Good morning.” He presses a kiss on your temple. You hand him his post workout protein shake and he simply sets it aside, opting to hold you instead. “It was so hard to leave you in the morning.”  He does a little dance behind you, one he did whenever he was extremely excited to see you.

You smile gently and turn around in his hold, trapping yourself between him and the counter. “And yet you still did.” 

“I never skip chest day, you know that.” He gives you a small smirk.  

“Hey, Binnie. This is random but do you like my boobs?” 

Changbin stares at you with a very serious look. “Yes.” 

“Even if they’re small?” Lately, you've been noticing other people around you with a bigger bust size. The fact that you're noticing it at all was a sure sign to you that you were a tad bit jealous of their features. You've even noticed the work that Changbin has been putting into his pecs paying off.

“Yes.” Changbin places his hands on your boobs suddenly. “I’d like them if they were any size at all.” 

You roll your eyes, “You have to say that. You love me.” 

“I do love you.” He squeezes his arms around you tight and lifts you into the air momentarily, earning him a laugh from you. “But I mean it.” He brings you on top of the counter and settles himself between your legs. 

“Good.” You wrap your arms around his neck loosely and bring him closer to you to press your lips on his. 

Changbin is eager to kiss you back. He pulls away from you and gently pokes at your sides. “And I’ll love you when we’re old, happy and saggy.” 

Your eye twitches slightly in annoyance at his last added adjective. You quickly take one of your hands and gently jab at his pecs, knowing he would be sore. He pulls back, yelping in pain. He rubs at his chest, soothing the assaulted area. “What was that for?”

“Saggy is not a word I want to hear when talking about my boobs, big or small… But also for having bigger boobs than me.” You stick your tongue out at him playfully. 

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin sits on the floor across from where you are laying on bed, head propped up in your palm as you stare off blankly. The soft hum of an orchestral piece playing over the Bluetooth speaker accompanies Hyunjin’s pencil sketching against the parchment paper of his Moleskine sketchbook. 

You adjust the thin bed sheet over your naked form, suddenly a little insecure. Realistically, you know that it’s a little silly. Hyunjin had drawn you multiple times, in the nude, totally covered up, everything in between, but you couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts from being well.. Intrusive. You look down at your form, the small vein on your forehead prominently showing as your insecurity grows with the passing seconds. 

Your boyfriend glances up at you quickly before his eyes dart back to his sketch, but he pulls his eyes back up to you when he notices that vein. “Hey, love. What’s on your mind?”

You sigh through your nose, hugging the sheets closer to you. “Sometimes I wonder if I’d look better with bigger boobs.”

Hyunjin, with his flare of dramatics, crawls over to you with a highly raised brow. He places his elbows on the bed, his hand at your shoulder. “You look perfect.” He’s staring into your eyes and it sends shivers down your spine. He still has that effect on you even after years of dating. It’s the way it seems like he’s looking straight into your soul. 

He twists to grab his sketchbook off the floor then gets up to sit on the bed with you. He leans against the bed frame and motions for you to sit against him. You do so and he wraps one arm around you to cradle you between his arms, opening his drawing book to show you all the sketches he’s done. 

“You’re perfect. And I mean that. Here.” He flips to a page that depicts you in the moonlight, washes of gouache paint for shadows and highlights. His finger traces your body on the paper. “This is my favorite curve.” It's the curve of your backside as you lay on your stomach. He turns the page past paintings and drawings of vases, streets, sunsets. “Ooh, this one is good.” It was a sketch of you in a dress from the waist up, looking over your shoulder with a large sun hat on your head. 

Hyunjin shows you all his sketches of you. He’s depicted you in numerous poses in multiple mediums. He turns back to the page he was drawing on moments before. You focus on the sketch noticing your messy bun, the details of your shoulder and collar bone and the small dimple on your cheek. He closes the book and places it on the nightstand. 

"You make me look so beautiful, Hyun." You crane your head back up at him, smiling softly. It’s a wonder to you how he is able to pull you out of your insecure thoughts. It’s clear that he’s so in love with you, enough to never be bored drawing you. 

He cups your cheek and brings your lips close to his. He whispers to you and he hopes you understand everything he says. “You are beautiful. I love every single curve, slope, line of your body. You might not love it, but I hope that I can love you enough to make up for it.” Hyunjin’s lips press against yours and you melt into his touch. “My perfect, perfect muse.”

Han Jisung

“Bubs.” You hold the phone to your ear, thankful that your boyfriend had picked up. 

“Baby love?” Han talks to you through the phone. 

“I’m coming over. We’re going on a date and you’re going to be okay with what I’m wearing.” You’re already in the elevator up to his apartment. You start to pace back and forth, waiting for the bell to ding to signify you reached the 8th floor. 

Han laughs over the receiver, his voice a little unsure. “Okay?” 

You walk down the hall and adjust your bag on your shoulder. “I’m outside.” 

Han opens the door to find you with a pout on your lips, a little bit sulky. Your shoulders droop as you walk through his door, enveloping you in a hug before shutting the door. “What’s wrong?” 

You place your bag on the kitchen counter and turn to his full length mirror above his small shoe rack next to the front door. “I was going to try to surprise you with a really cute date and I wanted to look really cute when you opened the door but instead I look like this.” You’re wearing a brown unzipped hoodie, black baggy cargo pants and a cropped tank top. 

Han leans against the counter of his kitchen, biting his lower lip as he looks you up and down. “I mean, you still look cute to me.” 

You sigh and turn around, crossing your arms over your stomach as if to hide your torso. “But I look like a small boy in this outfit.” 

“No, you definitely do not.” 

You sigh again, but this time louder, more dramatically, in frustration. He didn't seem like he understood where you were coming from. “Han Jisung! I have no titties.” You uncross your arms, showing him your lack of cleavage. 

Han scoffs and pulls you against him, slipping his hand into your back pocket. “You have titties, baby love. Do I need to remind you?” 

No answer comes to your lips, simply watching as he tugs the low scoop neckline of your tank top down past your boobs. He takes your left breast in his hand and squeezes it gently. A small sound moves past your lips and Han chuckles low. You push him away, tugging your top back over your boobs. All the insecurity you felt about your body image at that moment leaves you and is replaced with a giddiness in your stomach. 

“We’re supposed to go out today.” 

Han groans and buries his face into your neck, breathing you in. “Or we can stay in and I can remind you over and over again.” 

You purse your lips, his fingers slip under the fabric of your cotton top, his feather-like touch building a knot within you. He places a kiss on your neck and you can’t help the shaky breath you exhale through your slightly parted lips. 

Han can feel your body relax and that’s all he needs to pull your tank top over your head as you shrug your hoodie off your shoulders and onto the floor. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist as he takes you towards his bedroom. When he sits the both of you down, he places you in his lap and brushes your hair away from your face. “Now don’t you ever make fun of my baby love’s titties. I love them.” 

“Okay, bubby.” You whimper as he shows you just how much he truly loves them.

Lee Felix

You had bought a new dress online and tried it on as soon as you received the package, excited to wear it out on a date with your boyfriend. You stare are your reflection, a small frown set on your lips. A knock comes through the door. 

It’s Felix.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He strides on over to you, immediately wrapping his arms around the small of your waist. You turn into him and embrace him back. 

“I just bought a new dress.” The crease in between your brows deepens and that is enough to cause concern for Felix. 

He takes a step back, his fingers still latching onto your own. “You look great.” He gives you a genuine smile and you can’t help but let your frown up, even just a little. 

“Thanks, but...” You look back towards the mirror and reach behind you to cinch the dress so the loose fabric gathered around your chest sits tighter on your body, the way you’d like it to. “It would look better if I had bigger boobs.”

Felix clicks his tongue at you and takes hands off your dress. The fabric falls slack against you again as it was originally. His arms snake around your form again as he rests his chin over your shoulder. “Angel baby,” His voice is low as it tickles your ear. “Look at yourself.” 

You look directly at your self-diagnosed problem area in the reflection of the mirror. 

Felix nudges his head against yours. “No, look at yourself.”

With a defeated sigh, you comply and look at yourself. Not just your chest, but the length of your legs, your thighs, Felix’s arms around your waist, your exposed shoulders, and your face, which Felix presses a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “You’re beautiful, you got that?”

You turn in his arms, resting your head on his chest as you hum a reply. 

“I mean it. You are more than just your beauty though.:” He leans back and presses a kiss on your face again, this time on your forehead. “You’re brilliant,” He pauses to peck at the lid of your left eye. “You’re funny.” Another on your nose. “You’re kind.” On your lips. This time, you attempt to chase the kiss, but he expertly dodges your request and puts his lips on your jaw. “And you’re all mine.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. You lean against him and he gladly supports your weight before he starts to sway your bodies to the imaginary music playing in your heads. 

Kim Seungmin 

Seungmin walks out of the bathroom to join you at your dining table for breakfast after his shower. He rubs the towel in his hair, attempting to get as much water as he can out of it. You’re sitting at the table, cross legged in the small chair with a large pout on your lips. 

Seungmin rolls his eyes, sighing. It’s a bit mean, but you know he’s just being dramatic. Plus, if it really bothered you, he would stop. No questions asked. “What is it now?”

You send a glare at him. Again, it was how you showed your affection towards each other. “I have small boobs.” 

Seugmin simply stares at you, deadpanning. The statement was so random and yet he would not expect anything less from you. Things like this would happen often. You would let him know what insecurity ailed you that day and he would tell you how silly you were being. Had it been any other two people in a relationship, you don’t think that the way you and Kim Seungmin communicated would be considered romantic. But the two of you understand each other the way no one else does. 

Hey ugly really means I miss you. You’re here again? means I’m happy to see you. I’m hanging up now means it’s late and you need to sleep for work tomorrow. You’re stupid means You’re perfect and I can't possibly be more in love with you than I am this second. 

“They’re fine.” 

That wasn’t very convincing.

Seungmin drapes his towel over his shoulder, sitting down on one of the dining chairs. He places his hands out in front of him, staring at his palms. 

You stand up and make your way over to him at the other end of the table, confused. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at you and shifts his whole body towards you, hands still out, palms up. “Your boobs are small, but they fit in my hands so I don’t see the problem.” 

Before you can walk back to your seat in a huff, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap, showering your face and neck with kisses. 

Your laughter, loud in his ears, brings a huge grin on his lips. “Now stop being so stupid.” 

Yang Jeongin

You lay on your back in bed, holding your phone above you while Jeongin rests his head on your chest, scrolling on his own phone. Your routine on Sunday evenings consisted of doing exactly what you were doing now, winding down by watching and sharing Tiktoks. 

Jeongin laughs and it vibrates your chest. You take a peek to look at his phone and jealousy springs up on you, noticing that the woman in the Tiktok had a low cut shirt, showcasing her cleavage. Lately, you’ve been noticing things like that everywhere you go, how clothes seem to just look better on people with a larger chest size, or that maybe people would stop assuming that you were a 12 year old because of your flatter-than-average chest size. 

You huff loudly, causing Jeongin to tilt his head in your direction, though his eyes were still on his phone. “What?”

You shrug your shoulders, pretending to scroll on through your own FYP. 

Jeongin tosses his phone aside on the bed and sits up, bringing you with him. You sit across from each other, your small hands in his much larger ones. You can’t look him in the eyes, ashamed. 

“What is it?” He ducks his head low, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes. 

“Myboobsaresmall.” You blurt out quickly. 

Jeongin raises a brow. “Sorry, again?”

“My boobs are small.” You give a heavy sigh, your shoulders sagging in the process. 

It’s quiet for a while until Jeongin gives a chuckle, gently flicking your forehead. 

“Ow, what the heck?” You rub at the reddening spot. 

“You’re so dumb.” He places his arm across your stomach and pulls you back down onto the bed with him. 

“You’re calling me dumb after I tell you what’s been bothering me?!”

Jeongin moves his head in a nod then rests his head back on your chest. “I like them.”

“You do?” Your brows furrow together. 

“Yeah. They’re cute.” The way he says it is so matter-of-fact that it’s a little endearing. 

“Plus, if I wanted to date someone with bigger boobs I would.”

You roll your eyes and give him his own flick to his forehead which he happily takes, laughter from his whole chest filling your small room. Jeongin leans up to place a kiss on your lips, one that has you chasing after him once he pulls away.

a/n: idk just something quick. didn't wanna think about it too much but honestly, these are a lil difficult for me to do without sounding redundant. likes, reblogs, comments always appreciated!

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