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#which is one something i forgot to mention in my previous post
astarlightmonbebe · 4 months
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this is painful. ruyi is eviscerating this man.
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makeyoumine69 · 1 month
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Spit In My Face
— PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
— SUMMARY: Fashion Week is in full swing in New York City and Patrick Bateman doesn't miss the chance to show you the world of luxury and beauty. So, he invites you to attend the fashion show with him. Through the chain of events that unfold there, you will see a new side of Mr. Bateman that you never knew existed.
— CONTAINS: Angsty romance, smut, toxic behavior, gaslighting, cheating, misogyny, hurt/comfort, seduction, swearing, flirting, sensual kisses & touches, jealousy, implications of self harm & panic attacks, (almost) character death, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, rough sex, finger sucking, spanking, biting, manhandling, choking, orgasm control, dry humping, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, Daddy kink, Praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman being an asshole (again).
— WORDS: 21k (oops)
— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face
— A/N: Hey guys! It took me a year to finally finish this and I decided to post all the parts together since most of you probably forgot what happened in the previous ones (I'll delete the old posts). I did some extra editing before posting and I hope you like it and I'm happy to get back to writing and soon I'll be rebooting the Cupcake series as I've already started working on prequels. Love you all!
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST];[SERIES MASTERLIST].
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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.'
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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neteyamsoare · 4 months
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birthday present / spider socorro is now live. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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ಇ current game. it's spider birthday and you decide to pull a surprise on him.
ಇ game warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, aged up! spider, fem! human! reader, lingerie/stockings, mentioning of alcohol, drunk sex, dom! spider, dirty talk, spanking, slight oral (f receiving), slight fingering (f receiving), p in v, dirty talk, use of ‘ma’ + breeding kink. words. 1.1k.
ಇ things to note. finally finished it at 2:33 am, oh my god. it's always spider that gets me writing over my drabble limit, something about him but i’m happy to finally post it. thanks to my bestie, @inlovewithpandora, for reading it over for me and suggesting to add the breeding kink in it, love you bb!! : masterlist / kinkmas masterlist / previous fic / taglist
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It was Spider’s 22nd birthday and the two of you celebrated amongst your friends which you have been planning for a while now as a secret wanting to surprise Spider and catch him off guard. 
The two of you partied it up more than anyone else there. You played games, grinded on each other, and drank more than the rest which they had to lead you guys home. You loved seeing the smile on his face, his expression kept playing over and over in your head when you first removed the blindfold from his eyes and everyone yelled ‘surprise’. 
He was so happy since he thought everyone forgot his birthday, you had him think that so as not to give away any hints of the surprise party. Now that his special day is ending, you tell him to close his eyes for the final surprise you had for him, slurring over your words a bit. “No peeking!” you chastised him after catching one of his eyes slightly opened and he slightly chuckled, closing his eyes completely.
You squeal in excitement as you undress yourself from your loincloth and feather top. You planned this good, it was one of the reasons you spent so much time at work between planning the party and sowing a new piece that you knew he was going to love.
Once you were done putting them on, you stood right before him, smiling very hard, a bit nervous about what he might think. “You can open your eyes now,” you exclaimed as you watched Spider open his eyes, looking you up and down with a shocked expression. “Do you like it?” 
“Damn ma, if I knew that this was going to happen, I’d have left the party a long time ago!” Spider smirked as his eyes traveled down your body as he noticed how the bra accentuated your breasts to the way your panty hugged all your curves. He was drooling at the sight. “You look so sexy, only f’me,” he whispered, closing the distance between the two of you. 
“Only for you,” you repeated back as you leaned forward, smashing your lips on his, you opened your mouth slightly giving him total access to slide his tongue in, and his hands travels down the side of your body til they meet the swell of your ass, rubbing it a bit before squeezing it tight eliciting a moan from you as he deepened the kiss. 
Spider is the first to pull away as you both catch your breath, he pulls down your bra enough to release your breasts, cups your breast, kneads it softly, and rolls your nipples with his thumbs. Small moans come out of your mouth as your hands untie his loincloth making it drop to the floor and his cock springs up and hits against his abdomen, precum coming out of the slit, leaking down his shaft. 
“You want him so bad, don’t you?” Spider questioned as he brought his hand down to rub against the fabric to test the waters and as he expected, it was drenched with your slick. “Yes, you know I do.”
Spider walks over to your desk, clearing it with just a swipe of his hand, papers, pens, and pencils flying to the ground. “You gotta stop doing that,” you chastised him and he let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up after,” he slurred over his words as he brings you over to the desk, bending you over, your breasts laid on the desk while your back arched with your ass in the air exactly where he wants it. 
Spider pulls your panty to the side, your bare pussy on display for him, admiring how soaked it is just from making out and playing with your breasts a bit. He runs his finger between your folds before sticking a finger in your hole, slowly thrusting in and out as your cunt clenched around his finger. 
“Mmm fuck…” you cursed under your breath, he removed his finger and replaced it with his tongue, slurping up your sweet juices. “Spider… stop with the teasing…” you whined earning a deep chuckle from him. 
Spider straightens himself, rubbing his cock between your folds, letting your slick cover it before he lines up to your entrance, pushing it inch by inch till he bottoms out, grunting as he does. 
“Baby, y’so wet that I slid right in,” he groaned as you waited for him to move, so eager for him to blow your back out. He gives you slow sloppy strokes for a few before increasing the tempo. 
The sounds of skin slapping, your moans, and the desk hitting against the wall filled the air of the lab. You were so glad that it was only the two of you here, it kinda did excite you a bit of getting caught. 
The more he pumped in and out of you, the more you drenched his cock with your juices. “Shit…” you let out a pornographic moan as he relentlessly slammed in and out of you. 
“Y’feel s’good, baby,” Spider groans as he slaps your ass causing you to yelp, bringing your hand to place over the stinging area but he grabs a hold of it and places it on your lower back using it as leverage as he continues to fuck you into the desk. 
“Y’fuckin me so good,” you cried out as you felt your high build-up. Spider knew you were close just based on you starting clenching him even tighter, he knew he was close as well and he couldn’t help but imagine filling you up with his cum. 
You would look s’pretty if he got you pregnant, s’round as you waddled around the clan showing everyone just how much you were his made him so excited that it drove him crazy.
“Baby, I’m coming,” you moaned as your legs began to flutter around his cock, squirting all over his length, your juices dripping to the floor. “Mmm.. fuck…” you tried catching your breath as Spider sped up his pace as you were coming down from your high. 
“Don’t you think you’ll look s’good with my baby in you?” Spider questioned as he continued at his torture, loving the sweet sounds of your moans. “I think you’d look s’pretty,” he continued and you smiled at the thought as you felt his dick twitch inside you. “Please fill me up with your cum, no drop wasted.”
A smirk formed on his face when he heard you speak those words and there was no going back as he pumped into you one more time, releasing his load deep inside you before pulling out, watching as some of his come trickled out of you and he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you, you gasp at the feeling.
“I know baby, I’m done, let’s get you cleaned up then you can rest, okay?” he quired and in response, all you could manage was an ‘mmm’ and he chuckled. The two of you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for you, y’all were ready for just about anything.
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꒰ stream has ended. — all rights reserved © neteyamsoare 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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bulbabutt · 11 months
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ok i wanna talk about tmnt 2007 and the way i think this is the best version of a leo and raph conflict, and also leo as a character
for context i've been talking about tmnt things kinda chronologically, so i'm gonna mention an unconditional understanding in 03 i bring that up in a previous post about that show and the family dynamics in it here if u want context for what i mean
i think this movie can really be appreciated for the place it has between adaptations, and the way character-wise everyone is more or less the same as they've always been but with a more interpersonal relationship as the focus. the main villain of this movie doesn't really matter, the conflict, the fights, that's not where the strength is (although, it is reflected in the conflict and ill get into that)
so tmnt 07 is one movie that kind of combines the 90s movies, 03, and mirage all in one place, and tonally is is similar to the show that will come after it, 12. if the 90s movies give us conflict between leo and raph, and 03 gives us the unconditional understanding between the two, 07 takes these two aspects and creates a story out of it. (debate in your own mind if this movie is a literal sequel to the 90s ones or not, its not that important)
the set up of this movie is we are in a post killing the shredder world. leo has been told by splinter to go get training elsewhere, there isn't much context for what happened to cause this, but i would bet its a similar cause to 03, where he had ptsd and lashed out at his father to which splinter sends him to his grandfather to get better advice than he thinks he can give him. the difference here is there is no grandfather hes sent to, he's sent on a journey of self discovery around the world to learn about it and himself.
the thing about leo as a character, and this goes for all leos, he's has a very black and white way of thinking. leo thinks he's been sent away because he's failing his family, that he's not a good enough leader. so he stays away for longer because he doesn't feel good enough. he finds a place where he can help and he does that. leo always needs a bad guy to fight, or else he's fighting his own demons. so he stays there for a long time. finding a place he can help quietly, never letting anyone see him, and becoming a legend to the locals because no one knows what's really going down.
april manages to track him down and tell him about whats going on with his brothers, how they're holding up without him and without being a team, and i think thats a good reminder for him that they miss him. he doesn't tell april but he finds a way home only after hearing about this. when he arrives and speaks to splinter, he says "i was so caught up in my own world i forgot about everyone else, i'm sorry i failed" he still doesn't feel like he's done anything of worth.
i'm gonna jump in here and say, you know how we all love rise raph? cuz hes the big brother and some traits that come from that are like being overprotective and taking on everyone else's problems and trying to handle emotions alone? well that's a trait thats usually leo's. but the difference with leo is sometimes that concept doesn't make you as likeable. sometimes it means you come off like a nagging mother hen who thinks they know best but in an arrogant way. sometimes it makes you mirror being a parent when no one asked you to be. leo's less of a passionate character than raph, hes more analytical and full of himself. he takes splinters lessons more seriously, and hes always trying to do whats best for everyone so they don't have to worry. this is something evident with 03 and 12, but its so specifically noticeable here because these traits make up the main conflict. i just want to bring that up so we start seeing leo as no different than some of our other favourite iterations.
splinter responds to his apology by saying "you owe me no apology, but perhaps you should talk to raphael, your absence has been particularly difficult for him, though he'll never admit it" but when leo greets him raph is brushing him off.
on raph's end, this is him being angry that leo left, and angry that hes back and everyone wants to pretend that he wasn't gone at all. as if the time he was gone didn't happen. hes lashing out because he too cant handle talking about these emotions. and hes lashing out by becoming a vigilante in his own right.
i see a lot of people misunderstand what raph is doing here, that "this is what the turtles always do" or "this is the same as what leo was doing how could he be mad" when that is not true. that's what casey does. its true that both leo and raph have been fighting bad guys on their own (as a way of dealing with their issues) but raphael has made himself a costume to disguise himself which means hes prepared to be seen. hes riding a motorcycle around, which is loud. this isn't stealthy, this is aggressive. his vigilante name is in the news. the turtles are ninjas, they silently help where they can and fade into the night and, very specifically, they work as a team. these turtles live in a dangerous world, what if something happened to him while no one else was around? they would never know because he never told anyone.
so raph is lashing out, and leo doesn't have a good way of dealing with it. he tries to slide back into being leader, doing what splinter says but he forgets how his brothers are, and with raph egging them on they get into fights they shouldn't. which leo specifically gets in trouble for, as the oldest brother, and as their leader. leo tries to be this better leader hes supposed to have learned to be, but it doesn't work and raph ends up back out there in his vigilante get up. leo tracks down said vigilante, and in his peak "leo knows best" moment, lectures him, not knowing its his brother. there's a scuffle, and the mask comes off. let me point out that casey knew this vigilante was raph but his own brother didn't, because leo has been gone that long.
so lets get into what this fight is really about. on the surface, its "wow you've been going out at night alone putting yourself in dangerous situations with no backup" and "so what you're just mad that i can do it without you" which leo would be right about. and this is the analytical leo, he really thinks that's all that's going on here. what hes missing is that raphael has missed him as a brother, and hes hurt that leonardo left and just came back no big deal. that he wants everything to be normal. raphael is always a character with big emotions and the only outlet he knows to express them is violence.
leo, who as we've established, went away to learn to be better for his family is angry that raph doesn't see that. he's mad raph doesn't appreciate the effort he went to, and he thinks he's just angry because he's not in charge. each brother sees the other as being arrogant.
this leads them to the big fight. no one can disagree that this is the best part of the movie (seriously watch the movie for this scene if you haven't seen it before) , but the real best part of it is that raphael wins. raph proves hes just as capable of a fighter as his brother, if not more-so. he uses those sais as they're supposed to be used, catching leo's swords and in a fit of rage he fucking breaks them, leaving leo defenceless and completely vulnerable to attack. you'd think he'd be smug that leo lost but he pauses, going through a lot of emotions in a moment, questioning what he's doing, why hes doing it. and leo finally looks his brother in the eye and sees raph going through something he didn't before, realizing raph hasn't been angry that he's back, but that he's angry that he ever left. they don't have a conversation, because raph cant handle all these emotions and he runs away, crying as he does. leo just watches him, taking it all in and realizing the error of his ways.
hearing leo scream turns raph around, but he's too late to help him, and this is where raph regrets his own actions because right then, leo is also proven right in his argument. because he gets kidnapped. if leo hadn't chased raph down, there is a very good chance that would have been raph being kidnapped. with no backup, with no one knowing what happened to him. that's why its important that the turtles are a team.
raph goes home full of guilt, and there's a good moment of showing how he cannot open up emotionally here, because he grunts, punches the wall, knocks over some weights and forces splinter to ask him what happened, because that's how raphael is. he laments to his father that he finally understands why leo is the better son, proving that to raph none of this was about their team, but about their family. conflating the two ideas in his head. splinter gives him a talk that mirrors what he said to leo when he returned earlier in the movie, encouraging him that he is a good son and brother. this shows that these brothers have very similar insecurities about their value to their family.
the rest of the movie plays out as you expect, they go save leo, they stop the bad guy, they reconcile and behave as the team they're supposed to be. but i just want to point out that the villains plot is mirrored in leo and raph's conflict. the 'villain' here is a brother who has been cursed to be immortal without his own siblings. for 3000 years he lived to regret his actions and decided to undo his curse, but he used the cursed stone versions of his siblings to do so. no communication, just thinking he knew better (which maybe he did) and lying about it. that caused them to lie to him right back, and try to overthrow him and destroy the world. this is just one family whose inner turmoil could have destroyed the world. you might say, oh that's not a very interesting turtles villain, but its not supposed to be. its not the focus.
this movie is all about the complicated relationship between a family, and i see so many people talk about it by trying to ask who's right and who's wrong. that's not how it works. life is more complicated than that, people are more complicated than that. its boring to look at this movie and just say "leo is wrong and raph is right" because that's not even how the characters see it. this movie is about leo and raph being mirrors of each other in their arrogance, in their insecurities, and in their stubborn pig-headed refusal to let the other know how they feel. splinter says as much at the start of the movie. this whole movie shows that without each other, they need to be fighting something so they don't get swept up by their own emotions, which they are both bad at processing. they are SUCH brothers. they are so similar emotionally, yet they have such a hard time understanding each other.
personally 07 leo is my favourite leo for his complexity, his flaws his strength, his growth. its sad we never got those sequel movies to get into the other brothers heads as much as we got into leo and raphs heads.
also nolan north and james arnold taylor gave the best vocal performances in this movie and they deserve all the credit for it.
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hereforhalstead · 9 months
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CPD Gala
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*GIF NOT MINE, full credit to the owner*
Requested?: Nope! Wanted to get something posted now I'm back :)
• Warnings: N/A
• Summary: Jay reminds you of the annual CPD gala but knows it's not your idea of fun
Words: 1,321
• A/N : I’m not gonna apologise again for being gone as god knows how many of these I post with that intro but I’m hoping to be back in the swing of things as I have a tonne of requests to get through and I don’t want anyone thinking their request is being ignored as I promise it isn’t!
Meh I don’t love it as I defo need to get back into the comforts of my writing (its gone so downhill lmao) but here we are..
Hope you enjoy🥰
****
Jay knew you weren’t the biggest fan of social occasions, so when you happily agreed to attend the annual CPD gala he had invited you along to, he was beyond surprised.
“I mean, I’ll ask her but don’t get your hopes up” he had joked with Kim a few days prior, following endless begging from her after finding out Hailey wouldn’t be there and wanting a familiar female face there.
“Tell her I’ll by her drinks all night” she quickly exclaims as Jay chuckles, eyes still firmly on the road as they drive back to the district.
“You do realise it’s a free bar?”
“Oh” she huffs, “more reason for her not to say no then” she happily shrugs, sinking back into her seat with a look of confidence.
As much as Jay could go on for hours about how he knew you better than anyone, least of all Kim who you had only met on a few occasions it was like talking to a brick wall sometimes and he didn’t have the patience.
You and Jay were homebodies and this suited you perfectly, he would come home after long shifts and you would still more than likely be sat in the same spot he left you at that morning. Countless half empty mugs filled with coffee that was now ice cold, papers scattered all over the table and floor with your eyes pinned firmly on the screen in front of you.
He would convince you to call it a night, you’d either order in food or you’d wander into the kitchen together to whip up dinner whilst he told you about his day. Depends on what you had, you’d either quickly tidy up the table as best you could or you both just slumped on the sofa with the pizza box balanced on your laps as you watched some trash TV.
You would always fall asleep before Jay, he would get too into the show you had put on and then couldn’t finish until he had got to the end whereas you probably wasn’t paying too much attention in the first place so would easily doze off to only be awoken with a light kiss to your head when Jay has turned the TV off.
It worked like clockwork, some may say boring but it just worked for you and you couldn’t picture it any other way. You were each others comfort, the feeling of home.
***
Jay had bought up the idea of going with him to the gala the previous year but you had only been dating for a few months and hasn’t told many people so you decided against it in mutual agreement.
The truth was it hadn’t left you mind since that exact day he casually asked you over dinner last year
“would be fun you know? “ he raised his eyebrows as he took a sip from his drink “having you on my arm all nice and dressed up” he teased
No Jay, it wouldn’t be fun.
Social outings weren’t your thing, you had a close family and the relationship you had with Jay and that was more than enough. An evening spent in Molly’s was something you had to build yourself up to, let alone a huge party with tonnes of people you had never met before.
Every week the thought would re-enter your mind on whether or not he would ask again this year, secretly hoping he would’ve forgot or they had a case on which meant they couldn’t go. You knew it was in August as Kim had mentioned it one night at Molly’s so as the month got closer, the more it played on your mind.
You even forced yourself one weekend to go dress shopping for the occasion to try and get yourself in the right mindset of being there to support Jay, after all you were beyond honoured he would want you by his side but sometimes the voice in your head would have a way of getting through.
“You know the CPD gala is this weekend?” Jay broke the silence, still chewing on his pizza as he flicked through the channels.
Shit
“I know it’s not your thing so I’m thinking of just third wheeling Kim and Adam, do you think they’ll mind?” he joked but you could tell there was something in his voice that had a twinge of disappointment.
“I’ll come with you”
Before you could register your voice to your brain, the words came out of your mouth.
“Baby, you do-“ he began but you were quick to cut him off in reassurance, placing a finger onto his lips as you smiled
“It doesn’t matter, you want me to be there so I’ll be there”
You placed a light kiss to his lips, the confusion plastered across his face but the light behind his eyes showing through in a gleam.
“Just promise me you will think about it first, don’t do this for me. You know I’d rather stay at home with you anyway but there isn’t many of us going to Voight wants us to make our presence known bla bla bla”
“I’ve already bought a dress” you lied, knowing it would be the thing to distract him
The chewing on his mouthful slowed, scanning your face with a slight narrow to his eyes as he tilted his head “what does it look like?”
“It’s just a little black dress, that alright with you?” you suggested, playful tone as he pouted his lips and nodded with a sign of approval “how comes I haven’t seen this dress?”
You lifted the pizza box from his lap whilst you began to tidy, scanning down to see him lift his hips to get more comfortable, slinging one arm to rest on the top of his head whilst the other clutched at the bottle of beer.
The gaze that was piercing into your back felt like it could burn a hole, the extra swing in your hips and swish of your ponytail was giving you the confidence you needed.
Placing the pizza box down on the side you turned to see Jay towering over you, one arm resting against the door frame with the other resting low in his sweatpant pocket.
“Seriously, let me see this dress”
You tried to keep your composure, acting like you couldn’t see the smile he was trying to hide despite the corners of his lips already turning up with his every word.
His eyes were pinned to you as you picked off a piece off fluff from his tshirt, following each move as you let your hand rest onto his chest.
Gazing up at him, innocence in your eyes as you could feel his heart pounding beneath your touch amongst the silence.
“You’re not allowed to see it until the Gala”
He huffed, rolling his eyes whilst running a hand across his forehead in stress
“but the guy in the store said I looked like a million bucks”
His eyes widened, smirk spreading across his lips as you felt his hand drop to your hip as he cleared his throat “did he now?”
You nodded, feeling his grip tighten as he let out a huff in laughter which you knew he didn’t mean in amusement.
Before you could think of what to come back with, his arm was slung over your waist, picking you up like you were a piece of paper and tossing you onto his shoulder. Marching towards the bedroom, not letting the fists you were prodding into his back stopping him.
“Jay?! What are you doing!” you exclaimed, being laid on the bed as he pinned his arms either side of your head to stop you from getting away from him. Dark glint in his eyes as he roamed about your body, taking in every inch as he admired.
“I think you need to show me this dress baby”
***
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tia-222 · 8 months
Note
also can you tell me how people are entering the void state through sleep paralysis
Sleep paralysis posts on Tumblr , you can read <3 :
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sleep paralysis and instant Manifestation cr prettymindset111
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sleep paralysis guide cr lovetd
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Rem sleep and sleep paralysis method
How to get into sleep paralysis :
( Link to the original post )
I found a method to induce Sleep Paralysis!
" First a bit of context. I'm one of those guys who absolutely cannot fall asleep unless I'm actually tired. I can stay in bed for hours and never fall asleep. So maybe this method is going to work better for people like me. "
" Basically, you need to follow a typical sleep paralysis inducing method. You lay on your back, stay completely immobile until your body falls asleep, but keeping your mind awake. If you're like me, this method just won't work. I can lay still for more than an hour but nothing will happen. I'll just start to get more and more physically uncomfortable until I just quit the practice. And this is exactly what happened yesterday. I layed still for about 50 minutes until I was too unconfortable, so I decided I was going to quit. I also needed to go to the bathroom. "
" But then, as I had plenty of free time, I decided to immediately start practicing again (something that I never do). So I went back to bed, but this time, I decided to find a comfortable position that I could fall asleep, which in my case is on my side. And that's when the interesting stuff started to happen. I forgot to mention that I also did a big, pleasant stretch in bed before starting the practice again. And I think this was a pretty important step, as it made me feel much more relaxed and comfortable, and also released the tension I had built up in the previous 50 minutes of laying still on my back. "
" Then I just remained pleasantly on my side, with the body relaxed. I started to naturally get on a more expanded mental awareness state, like when you're in deep meditation. At one point, I got a slight roll over signal (that annoying feeling of having to move in bed). But it was surprisingly weak, so I could perfectly ignore it and remain still. In this state of physical relaxation and mental awareness, I started to focus on that hum you hear when it's completely silent. Actually, this felt like a completely different hum from the usual one, but I'm not getting into detail because it's just too personal and abstract to explain. So I continued listening to this hum, until suddenly, about 25 minutes into the practice, it began. The Sleep paralysis kicked in, and it felt like a tremor in the whole body. The best part is that I was completely aware of the process. Finally, I managed to let my body fall asleep while my mind remained completely awake. I finally induced a Sleep paralysis. It took me around 1 hour 30 minutes of practice in total. "
" TL,DR: Lay on your back for about 45-60 minutes while remaining completely still. You're probably going to feel progressively more uncomfortable. When you feel like you absolutely need to move to release the tension, get out of bed and walk for about 30 seconds. Maybe you need to go to the bathroom like me. It is important that you move as slowly as possible, as you don't want to lose the relaxation state. Then you go back to bed, do a big, pleasant stretching to release all that tension from being still (this step is important), and you find a comfortable position in which you could fall asleep. I suggest laying on your side, with your legs slightly bent. Then you focus on the humming sound of your ear, while remaining completely still. You keep focused on the hum until Boom, suddenly the sleep paralysis process will begin right out of nowhere."
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emo-trash88 · 24 days
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Hello dearie!
How's your day?
Yes,yes,I'm back already,I know!
It's just that I just love your writing,and you said that you'd let me ask whenever so,here I am!
You already know me,so let's just get to the ask!
May I have any Hazbin hotel character (only Hazbin,but any character you want to write for! Only preference is Alastor- If you could write multiple that'd be great,but that's up to you,honey!) with a Platonic!GN!Friend!Reader that gets talked a lot behind their back (maybe by fake friends or just random people),but they know about it,and when the characters ask about it,they just say "It doesn't matter" or something along those lines? Would they stop the people talking behind their backs? Would they get angry? That's up to you!
That's all for me! I hope you enjoy writing this as much as my last one!!
Stay proud, don't forget to take care of yourself!!
-Nina <33
OMG YIPPEE YOUR BACKK!!! You can always spend time in my requests, because I love writing them! But definitely, and I absolutely love this concept!
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Angel Dust, Alastor, and Lucifer x Bullied! Reader
!Platonic relationship!
Pronouns: Second person, gender neutral
Tw: Shitty friends, Alastor in general
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Angel Dust -
- This man gets it to absolutely no degree.
- Like he absolutely has had friends who were untrustworthy and just garbage human beings.
- That being said, this would likely become a conversation after you get him to hang out with your other group of friends. Y'all probably clubbing or going to a bar.
- After awhile you go to use the restroom which leaves him with your garbage other friends.
- Then they start talking to him, trying to get him to agree that you're annoying and whatever other bullshit they try to spout.
- Angel (being the loyal puppy he is) immediately starts to tear your friends a new one for being such asshats. He continues yelling at them until you get out of the bathroom.
- He immediately starts telling you what they said, still glaring at them aggressively. And he is hardcore shocked when you just respond with "It's fine"
- Cause like bitch, no it's not.
- He is definitely very appalled, and ends up dragging you out of there and giving you a slightly aggressive pep talk on your self worth and being worth more than shitty friends.
- in all, he tries to love and support you, but sometimes he's really sure you were dropped on your head as a baby.
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Alastor -
- I am being as honest as possible when I say this man most likely has no experience when it comes to this.
- Like he deals with annoying assholes by just plain killing them. There, problem solved.
- You probably brought your friends to the hotel to try and introduce them to everyone, and during this time they seemed sweet as peach cobbler. But Alastor definitely picked up on their hidden intentions.
- After you walk away (Charlie definitely dragged you away to help with something), he sneaks up on them and makes them his newest addition to his radio station. After all, he can't be having people hurting his little pet (I swear this man is a literal red flag, run.)
- When you return he doesn't even really mention it to you, he just tells you your friends "Went home early"
- Safe to say you never saw those friends again.
- In all, probably the most efficient when it came to his approach.
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Lucifer -
- As I mentioned in a previous post, Lucifer is definitely a people pleaser. He tries to constantly help people and make excuses for them.
- However, when he sees his loved ones (*cough* you *cough*) being used it's another situation entirely.
- He most likely meets your friends by accident, just walking through the streets of hell with you when you run into them (spending time without you).
- Y'all actually have a really good conversation before you realize you forgot something in the last store you were in and run to go grab it.
- After you leave one of your friends makes a really ill intended joke about you being forgetful, and lets just say that Lucifer did not take that kindly.
- He immediately yells at them for a good couple of minutes, and then leaves to go find you after deciding they were not worth anyone's time.
- He brings up their comments to you and after you just brush them off he doesn't get mad per-say, just really sad that it's happened so much it doesn't even affect you.
- In all, he tries to just keep you busy and away from them as much as possible, because at least you have someone who thinks you're amazing.
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This was really relatable while I was writing it, and I just wanted to say if any of y'all are being treated like this by anyone just cut them off. They are not worth your energy and time.
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k-slla · 5 months
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Hello, goodbye.
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A/N: This is my second post for @jacklesversebingo / All mistakes are mine
Square filled: Break-Up
Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol, language, cheating, hurt, tiny bit of fluff/comfort
Word count: ~3.5k
My Masterlist
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Staring at the bottom of your almost empty tea cup, you waited for Jensen to come home. You grabbed your phone again from the table to send him another text but ended up throwing it on the couch because your previous messages, sent yesterday around noon were left on read by him.
"Hey, babe! I know you're going to board the plane soon, but call me when you land. Miss you!❤️"
Few hours later followed by next one.
"Hey, you haven't called yet:( I know you should be home by now..I'll finish up work in a minute, see you soon!"
And before these were even more calls and messages. More "I miss you's", "Can't wait to see you's" & "Love you's". All went to voicemail or were just left on read. He's just busy, you had tried to reason this silence on his part so far. But when you got home yesterday evening, he was not there. Probably his flight got delayed or phone battery ran out you had thought but as the hours passed, you felt that it was something else. Never has he ignored you or been radio silent for this long. Another full day had passed, without him contacting you. And now you were getting more anxious by the minute. Jared should probably know where Jensen is, right? You wanted to call him but it was already past midnight so you settled on sending him a text. Maybe they went for a drinks and he forgot to tell you. Unlikely, but still a possibility.
You dragged yourself to the kitchen to make another tea, so you could try to get some sleep. While waiting for the kettle, you sent another text to him.
"Jensen, where are you? I'm worried. Call me."
You let out a frustrated sigh and cursed yourself for being such a nervous mess. You decided to ditch the tea and go straight to bed instead. You were certain that his flight was just delayed, which wouldn't exactly explain him ignoring your messages but you were probably just overthinking about everything as always.
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You had no idea how long you had been asleep but when you woke up hearing the front door closing, light was dimly shining in through the blinds. Confused, you sat up in bed and looked for your phone. Almost 10am. Jared had sent two messages.
"Sorry, he's not with me:( trying to call now"
"Couldn't reach him, please let me know when he's home"
You could hear Jensen's heavy footsteps downstairs but decided to stay in bed. Mostly to see if he'd come upstairs to wake you. But he didn't, so you threw on a pair of fluffy slippers and a sweater and went downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee hit you as soon you opened the bedroom door.
You tried to stay mad at him longer, for making you worry but when you heard him humming in the kitchen, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. He sat at the island with his back towards you, so that gave you a perfect chance to sneak up on him. You hugged him from behind and he flinched.
"Jesus!" He quietly muttered under his breath. "Nope, just me. I missed you!" You whispered into his ear and kissed his stubbly cheek. "You scared me. I thought you were working today. Didn't see your car out." He sounded almost disappointed.
"Sorry." You smiled apologetically. " Didn't I told you that I'm taking the weekend off? We can spend it together before you have to go back." You turned around to pour yourself some coffee. "Did you your flight got delayed? I thought you were coming home on Thursday."
While you were searching for creamer from the fridge, you didn't notice Jensen tensing up at your question. You grabbed your cup and sat down across from him, looking at him questionably. 
"No, it's just- I-" he started evasively. " I just needed some time alone." You stared at him in disbelief. "What?" You asked laughing half-heartedly. "Jensen, we haven't seen each other for two months and you needed more time alone?"
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"Did I do or say something?" You asked after a minute of trying to process what he told you. "You've been almost completely ignoring me for the past weeks. Actually it seems like few months even. I feel like-" You reached for his hand across the table but he pulled back. "I feel like I'm losing you."  He took a deep breath in and leaned back in his chair. "I thought- hoped actually- that you were working today, so I could figure it out how to tell you." Your breathing quickened. "Tell me what?"
Jensen looked straight into your eyes. "I'm going to file for a divorce." The coldness in his gaze and tone cut deep. You got confused for a second and squared you shoulders, forcing back tears, that were threatening to spill. You did not expect that. "But what- I mean why? Because I started talking more about having kids?" You had hoped the timing was right for the two of you to start trying at least. You had been together for over five years, married close to two now. Of course you wanted to have kids with him one day.
"I wanted to start family too but- " he stopped, looking for the right words. "I guess people change."
You scoffed. People change. People do change, but it doesn't happen almost overnight like this.
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Your thoughts started to run now in one direction only. You were kicking and cursing yourself internally for allowing you even think this. "Is there someone else?" You asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Jensen's face turned stoic. "Does it matter? It's not gonna change anything." He shrugged. Anger was already slowly boiling inside you and that was the last straw.
"Of course it fucking matters, Jensen! If you're cheating on me, the least you could do is to man up and tell the truth." You snapped poisonously, got up from the chair and turned around to leave the kitchen.
"Fuck me." He muttered quietly and called after you bit louder. "Okay. Yes, I cheated on you. There. Do you feel better now?" He asked, sarcasm in his voice unmissable.
You immediately felt sick to your stomach. You turned around to face him again. "Do I feel better? Are you serious?" You were truly astounded and didn't even know how to react to his confession. You couldn't stay there anymore. You walked out of the room and tears finally broke loose. Jensen got up from his chair to follow.
"No! Just leave me alone. Please. I can't do this right now. I'll get out of here and-" you let out a sharp breath "-go to, I don't know, to Elaine's or something. "
"Of course.." he whispered. "Y/N, come on. Don't act like you're without blame here. You-" You cut into his sentence.
"How could you even say that? What did I do for you to go and cheat on me?" You hissed back at him and entered your bedroom. Jensen followed and sat on the bed, as he stared after you walking into the closet and pulling out a suitcase. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Come sit down." You ignored him and started to pack your clothes. "I'll get rest of my stuff next week." You sniffled. "When you're back at work or something."
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You folded your clothes sloppily and refused to look at him when he joined you in there. This was not the weekend you had imagined when he said he'll be coming back home. You were excited to finally see him again and just be together and do nothing. You had missed your husband for a long time. Apparently, he did not miss you. You quickly wiped the tears away, when Jensen came to stand behind you and put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around. "Please, Y/N. I want to talk about this. To explain."
Trying to calm yourself down, you looked straight into his eyes. "Okay. Talk."
"No. Come sit down." He nodded to the bed. He tried to guide you towards the bed but you shrugged off his hand and sat down on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, you pulled your knees to your chest. Two of you sat there for few minutes before Jensen started talking. "I really don't know how else to say it. And I don't expect you to believe but I didn't mean to hurt you this way. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet.
"I'm sorry I was such an asshole before. You just caught me off guard and I didn't know how to react."
You still couldn't wrap your mind around it. What went wrong with the two of you? "You're right. I don't believe you. You do not sleep with someone by accident. I'd try to understand- "
"Y/N, I-" You raised one hand to stop him. "No, Jensen, let me talk please. I'd try to understand you if it was just about having kids. I'd try to somehow accept it. But cheating? This was something you chose to do. And this probably wasn't a one time thing either, right?" His silence gave you the answer to your question. You nodded knowingly. "That's what I thought. You did this over and over. While I waited for you at home. Alone. Do you really think your apology will make me feel better?" You took a deep breath, silent tears were rolling down your cheeks again. Last few months had been especially hard without him. Work had gotten crazy with your boss demanding more and more from you. Yes, you had your friends and sister you kept in contact with regularly, but still at nights you felt alone.
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 "Is that why you're leaving me? To move on with someone new?" You noticed Jensen tearing up. But still he didn't answer. "Jensen, please. Why can't you just tell me?" He said nothing so you got back up to finish packing. You didn't see the need to sit there and wait for him to answer. "Fine. You say you want to talk, but still won't talk to me, so I'll just go." You threw few more items from the closet into the suitcase and closed it up.
"Y/N, this is your home. You don't have to leave." He finally spoke up. "Well, I can't stay here either." You walked to the bathroom to pack some toiletries. This time Jensen didn't follow you. You closed the door and sat down on the floor. You felt a pressuring pain on the back of your head, but tried to think through it, to figure out your next steps. Of course you didn't want to actually leave, but staying in the house you and Jensen worked hard on to turn into home, would've been even harder. So you chose the easier of the two.
With a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and dialed your sister's number. She has always been very protective over you, so you knew, if you'd tell her about Jensen on the phone, she'd be over in a heartbeat to kick his ass. And he wasn't worth troubling her that much. "Hey, El. Are you busy this weekend?" You tried to sound cheerful, but you couldn't even convince yourself so she'd definitely see through it. "Hey! Not too busy. Why?" She sounded worried already. "I got an awesome idea, involving you, me, bottle of rosé and probably us passing out on your couch. How's that sound?"
She laughed at your proposal. "Definitely have time for that! What's up? Boy troubles?" You sighed and tried to compose yourself. "You could say that." She groaned loudly.
For some reason Jensen and Elaine always had some kind of beef between them. They managed to remain somewhat civil around you but when you were alone with either of them, they just couldn't hold back on straight on bitching about the other. Which was the main cause of your headaches for the past years and made the family gatherings rather uncomfortable. Well, two less things for you to worry about now.
"Do I have come over and kick his ass? Because you know I would."  She said this jokingly, but you knew that there was some truth hidden there. "No! I'll be over soon. See you!"
"Oh, he really messed up this time, huh?" She asked and followed it up quickly. "Well, bring snacks then!"  There was a short pause on the line. "And more wine. Maybe some cake? I'll do the counseling, I think I'll deserve some afterwards."
"Of course. Thank you. Alright, see you soon." You said quietly.
You ended the call and reality pulled you back in. Talking with Elaine always calmed you down. Made you forget your problems, even if just for a moment. You sighed deeply and got up to now actually pack up some necessities.
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Few minutes later you stood at the bathroom door, staring at Jensen, sitting on the bed, head down in his hands. You wanted nothing more right now than to just get out of the house. But there was still one question that needed to be answered. You sat down next to him and took one of his hand into yours. "Please look at me." You turned his face gently towards you.
You wanted to stay mad at him.
Scream at him.
Punch him for hurting you this way.
But looking at him, you just couldn't. "It'd be probably better for me not to ask but I need to know this, Jensen. How long were you having the affair for, before you told me?" You looked into his eyes and waited for the band-aid to be ripped. But nothing could've prepared you for this.
 "I'm really really sorry, Y/N. I realize that it doesn't have any worth to you anymore but still I hope you know that I am." He said turning his body towards you. You remained silent and waited for him to continue. "But I- it started just after New Years." You pulled away your hands. You knew you should've let it go. "So almost for a year you came home to me like nothing was wrong?" You asked shakily and let out a sharp breath. Your ears started ringing. He really is an amazing actor, you thought to yourself.
You didn't know whether to cry or be relieved that the truth was out. Now there was nothing holding you back from leaving. You stood up and so was up again the wall around you. The wall that took Jensen forever to break down in the first place. "Ahem, so, uh-" you had trouble finding the words. "I think I've heard what I needed to- you know..move on, I guess." A forced smile grew on your face that didn't reach your eyes. "You can send whatever the papers you need me to sign to my workplace." You took your things and walked out of the room.
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Looking around in the living room, you realized how much you're actually going to miss this house. All the memories of the late night trips to the hardware stores during fixing up the house came back to you. You were definitely more of a distraction than help for Jensen at that time. But the arguments over the tone of the flooring and style of the kitchen cabinets resulted usually in hot make up sex in the shower. Which you felt was really your only purpose of picking those fights with him. These memories brought a sad smile onto your lips. Now you refused to call this home, because your home was Jensen. And you didn't have him anymore.
"Are you sure you're not staying here? I'm leaving in two days. You can have the house." He had followed you so quietly, you almost didn't notice him standing behind you.
"No, the house is not what I want." You laughed unhumorously and turned around to face him. Jensen pulled you into a tight hug and just held you close. And you let him do just that.
Everything still seemed as you were in a bad dream. All you wished right now was to wake up. But there was nothing to wake up from. As the realization dawned on you, you almost broke down again. Pushing your face into his chest, you desperately tried to hold yourself together. Leaving him is be the hardest thing you've had to do.
Focus, Y/N, you can cry when you're out of here, you tried to talk yourself down. Put on a brave face in front him, so he wouldn't see how broken you actually are.
"I'm sorry." He whispered and kissed the top of your head.
You took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too." After giving him a last hug, you pulled away from him. "I want to hate you right now, Jensen. So much." You laughed lightly through your words. "But I don't think I'll be able to, not before I stop loving you." He gave you a sympathetic look, and you saw that he was hurting too. You stroked his cheek gently. "And I will always love you." You stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss on his lips for the last time. With a heavy sigh you turned away to grab your purse, coat and car keys. "I want the best for you. Truly." You said standing on the door. With a one last look at him, you smiled and stepped out of the house.
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Before going to Elaine's, you did a quick stop at a grocery store. Today you felt like not giving a damn, you will get drunk with your sister this afternoon. You picked up more wine and sweet and savory snacks, cake and some fruit. Definitely too much food for the two of you.
"Someone's having a party, huh?" Cashier asked you with a smile on her face.
"Oh, yeah, mhmm, big party tonight."
After packing up your groceries, you dialed El's number again.
"Hey, just got out of store. Be there in 10."
"Alrighty, should I find some glasses for us?" What a dumb question.
"Don't ask stupid questions and come outside to help me with things."
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Little while later, two of you were sitting on the couch. "So. Talk to me, Y/N." She snuggled in closer to you. You swirled wine around in the glass and stared into nothing. "Jensen and I are divorcing." You didn't want to look at her and she waited silently for you to continue. "But hey- it's a well known fact that half of marriages end in divorce so-" You tried to lighten your mood but failed miserably at that. "I guess we were just on the wrong side of that equation."
She took the wine glass from you and put both on the table.
"Come here, sweetie." She pulled you into tight embrace as both of you laid on the couch. "I know that's yet another stupid question from me but how are you feeling? Honest answers only."
"Hurt. Disappointed. Sad. I just want to be angry with him, but I can't." You sat up. "He- he found someone new, you know? Well.. He didn't exactly say that but I guess so." Elaine huffed angrily. "He cheated on you?" You nodded silently and topped up your glasses. You could only imagine what was going through her head in that moment. Certainly she'd want to say "I told you so". You waited for any kind of reaction from her, so you sat there in a silence for a while, until she spoke again. "That lying piece of sh-" You interrupted your sisters swearing. "Stop. No, he's really not that." You said smiling sorrowfully.
"Why are you so calm about this? I'd be livid right now. Hell, I am! He betrayed you."
"If he feels like he's happier with someone other than me, then I won't stand in his way." You said quietly. "It hurts like hell, but I won't be some petty ass bitch to him because of that. I just don't have it in me." She laughed at you. "Yeah, you don't. I'd probably be keying his car right now."
You sighed, feeling the light buzz from the wine starting to take over you. "I thought getting drunk with you would make me feel better but what I really want right now, is to sleep. For a week at least. I just can't think of anything else right now."
She got up from the couch, reaching her hand out to you. "Come."
"What? Where?" Your brows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless you got up.
"You want to sleep, so let's go to sleep." Elaine said so matter-of-factly.
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"But didn't you have any plans today?" She pulled you into a tight hug. "Yeah, I did, but you are more important."
Read part 2 here!
Taglist is always open / Send me a DM if you wish to be added/removed :)
@jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94
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maniculum · 4 months
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Bestiaryposting Results: Raggfong
This week's beast was the Raggfong, much to the dismay of everyone who is sick of birds. Again, sorry, there are a bunch... and the random distribution put a clump of them in December/January, so it's going to get worse before it gets better. If it helps, imagine it's some kind of ritual to empower the birds currently eating the Gävle goat. Or maybe a "Twelve Days of Christmas" sort of thing -- we've already had the partridge.
Also again please forgive me if I fail to string sentences together properly -- still sick. Covid, actually, turns out. The brain fog is difficult; almost forgot I was supposed to do this today.
Anyway, here is the link to the entry that our artists are working from:
(Why did I redact the Greek and Latin names for the coot? I'm not making any effort to hide its identity... baffling choice on the part of Past Me.)
And if you have no idea what this is about, you should take a look at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting for an explanation and previous entries.
As usual, art will appear in roughly chronological order under the cut.
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@elodieunderglass (link to post here) responded days before anyone else with this image, which successfully conveys a lot of emotion in my opinion. Those are some very communicative facial expressions on the birds. I particularly like the coot, and how it's positioned to shield the chick from the sun. The real gem here, however, is the text of the post linked above, which I would describe as a prose poem about the bird depicted. I'm genuinely a bit blown away by it -- go click the link and read it for yourself.
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@embervoices (link to post here) has got some kind of effect going on here that I don't know enough about art to describe, but I like the way it looks. Her post mentions the phoenix connection, which I think comes through pretty clearly in the design and pose. The linked post explains some design decisions, including which real-world birds were the inspiration for this one.
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@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) helpfully specifies that this Raggfong is resting on a bed of sea kale. The design of this bird is very good, I think, conveying a certain gravity one does not always associate with seabirds. I also like the effect created by the background; it kind of looks like it's the cover for something, you know? The linked post explains the various birds from which the artist borrowed features and why, and also discusses the evocative nature of the entry this is based on -- I'm glad people are enjoying that aspect.
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@rautavaara (link to post here) has made the executive decision that this bird is actually a frog, and the drawing is frankly too pretty for me to have any kind of problem with that. Look at that border. And the wonderful color palette. Also there's a flying frog, which is very cool.
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@cheapsweets (link to post here) notes an emerging theme in these entries that birds (except coots) are jerks. I honestly can't remember how consistent that theme is across all the birds... I know there are some the author likes, but there are also definitely going to be additional Birds That Are Jerks in future. I like the crown-like crest on the Raggfong, and I'm impressed by the dedication involved in doing all those little body feathers with a fountain pen. Also, if you look closely, you'll see that one of those chicks the adult Raggfong is carrying has been shown staring off in the same direction as its parent, while the other has its head turned and its eyes closed, meaning we can expect it to join the coots off to the right... and there's already a young Raggfong there, too. The linked post contains a detailed explanation of design decisions, which you should go check out. (Also, thanks again for providing alt text.)
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@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has employed her usual medieval stylization to depict a Raggfong inspired by an albatross (on the grounds that they are a seabird with "judgy" eyes... you know, I can see it). I am absolutely delighted by the scrungliness of the chick being shown here, which does indeed have the "muppet made from dryer lint" quality of a real albatross chick. They have also included a series of pictures that show the whole life cycle, which I've decided (after substantial back-and-forth) to not copy over here as there's a certain color-of-the-sky quality there, but which I strongly encourage you to click on the link and look at for yourself. I particularly like that the coot in the "life cycle" picture appears to have a couple Ilyechams in her flock in addition to the new Raggfong.
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@moustawott (link to post here) describes their Raggfong as a gannet mixed with an eagle, and it looks pretty majestic, honestly. The background really enhances that effect, and I think it makes a much more entertaining contrast with the two little chicks being carried below. There's a certain severity to the design that I think is fitting.
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@pomrania (link to post here) has ditched the whole "coot" thing for a more direct interpretation of the Raggfong's "common counterpart", which they deem the "Ritchfong". I kind of like the idea of two related species of bird that the human observer has interpreted to have class divisions. The crest on the Raggfong is also a very appropriate touch, I think. The linked post contains additional detail on design decisions, and links to some process images, so go check that out.
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@treesurface (link to post here) has decided that the Raggfong should actually be a sort of insect that people mistake for a bird, which I think is quite clever. They explain their reasoning for that a bit more in the linked post, along with some other notes on design and execution that I think are worth reading. I really like the concept that the "unmoving wings" are elytra, and the kind of glittering quality that they suggest here. (I also appreciate that they provide their own alt text.)
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@karthara (link to post here) has drawn a Raggfong in several scenarios to express the behavior described in the entry. I really like the overall design here, with the feathery tufts on its head. Also charming is that one flying up near the sun -- it looks so happy to be on fire. The linked post explains the design decisions and the real-world birds from which karthara has taken inspiration. They also mention they included the coot chicks after looking them up and seeing how colorful they are, so I did a quick google and found this great headline:
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(Tl:dr coot parents show preference for more colorful chicks, so the later the chick hatches, the more colorful it is, allowing it to compete with its larger, older siblings for food and attention.)
And finally, the Aberdeen Bestiary depiction:
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The one diving into the basin just looks so goofy to me, sorry. Anyway, as I'm sure everyone has guessed, this is the eagle.
Yeah. I know. The whole "fiery rebirth" thing sounds like it should be the phoenix, but this bestiary has an entry for "Phoenix" and it's not this one.
Regular listeners to the Maniculum Podcast may recall this particular eagle behavior coming up before, in the quiz-show episode we did for the second part of "Sidrak & Bokkus". I still don't really know where this idea comes from, but there you go. Eagles.
I feel like there's some kind of comment that could be made over the lack of compassion shown by the medieval eagle here and, you know...
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... but I can't quite formulate it, so you'll have to write your own.
Anyway, see y'all next week for our next beaſt.
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nitrokiraru · 5 months
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madatowa drama cd notes as someone who has very limited jp knowledge. i am simply using my 4 yrs of high school japanese, google translate, and a dream. just posting this for fun so it’s not like an official translation or anything it’s just basically me describing what’s happening to the best of my ability and also being insane about them
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major events that happened that i could make out as like a tldr
-mada reunited with someone he knew when he was little
-towa learns abt mada’s past, mainly around a guy named “kurahashi”
-mayu eiji and kotarou appearance :D being sillies as always
-two yowie moments. first one in an alleyway second one presumably in their home. both are freak nasty as usual madatowa shenanigans
notes:
track 1
-LOTS of fighting noises in this
-towa and mada have a coffee and say it tastes like shinkoumi. some dudes come up to em and try to fight
track 2+3
-somebody notices them and gives them a job. presumably to fight people
-towa fights some people and it riles him up
-this part has already been translated but i just wanna scream abt it here bc!!!!!! towa brings him and mada into like an alleyway or something and he goes “hit me. it has to be you.” and mada says something like “you really are a lost cause/what am i going to do with you, huh?” hits him n his mouth fills with blood and towa kisses mada to make him taste it dnnsjdjd ❤️
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-they have a quickie in the third track in said alleyway like the freaks they are
track 4
-a character (acquaintance of mada) called him “kei” which was kinda crazy to me since nobody called him that in the vn
-theyre in south america i believe? it’s funny in drama cds when they go to a country outside of japan and still speak japanese
-this character knew mada when he was little??? omg
-KAGA MENTION
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-somebody came up to towa and madarame and said “forget everything you saw/heard today”?!
-there’s a VA in here that lowkey sounds like koujaku dmmd but idk how to check
track 5
-it’s funny how some tracks in here are like 2 minutes and the next one is 20
-dude i forgot how good nitroplus’ like sound effects are these mfs sound like they’re in my ROOM
-towa n mada having a convo abt the previous day. i think they may be arguing slightly? tone feels passive aggressive
-birds chirpin’ and towa’s breathing. he just woke up
-he just said madarame in the softest voice ever… 💔💔
-i think he woke up on their bed and mada left before he did
-towa: where did you go?😕 *track ends*
track 6
-footsteps. towa in a coffee shop once again
-MADA FIGHTING THAT DUDE HE KNEW
-cut back to towa. beep beep boop. towa calling somebody? ITS MAYU KOTAROU AND I THINK EIJI OMGGGGG T__T I MISSED EM
-i missed mayus silly voice
-they keep talking about somebody named “kurahashi” related to mada and kaga
-sasaki and toono mention?
-mayu: did something happen between you and madarame? did you two fight? (in the most teasing lil shit voice ever)
towa: *exhales smoke probably abt to hang up the phone* i’m done. -__-
eiji: HE WAs JUST KIDDIN-
-eiji: mata!! (see you!)
kotarou: mata na.
mayu: mata ne~ ^__^
the difference in tones was cute
-towa walks out of da shop. the dude from before comes up to him and asks if he wants to know what he and mada have been doing
-he like grabs him?? menacing music playing
-ok towa said let me go i think he pushed him up against a wall or something
-this dude is asking towa if he knows abt mada before he joined the takasatogumi. some massive lore bits goin on here (i understand about 20% of it)
-from what i got: madarame and kaga had a promise. lots of talk abt this promise. lots of talk abt madarame’s history with his siblings and takasatogumi. this entire bit is probably really interesting lore wise but i can’t understand most of it…💔 apologies
- enter madarame from the distance to save towa from this dude’s grasp
-he walks away.
-madarame: that guy…what happened?
towa: nothin. we just talked
madarame: really?
towa: yea. (he lyin)
track 7
-they go back home (i think) and enter.
towa sighssss. towa and mada talk time it seems ^__^
-madarame’s voice is so soft when he’s w him…cries
-towa: mentions something abt kurahashi
music: gets Suspenseful
-towa talks abt the stuff that dude told him
-towa ran away into a room?! (once again this would make me more sense if i even understood the weight of that dudes words and the lore of what happened)
track 8 (pretty sure this is the beginning of disc 2? however i’m listening from dlsite so it just shows up as track 8)
-this track is 20 minutes oh god pray for me as i try to even figure out what the hell is happening
-towa goes to see kurahashi and some dude tells him he needs an appt lawl… he lets him in tho
-“you came after all, towa” *suspense music starts*
-there’s a new takasatogumi?¿
-the dude who calls madarame “kei” is here telling him this. actually i think this is kurahashi i’ve just been calling him “the dude” this whole time but maybe it is kurahashi LMFAO i’ll just call him that
-wait the interrogation/euphoria music is playing? they’re still doing this segment in the drama cds omg
-towas voice still remaining the sexiest shit ever god
-IS HE TRYING TO SEDUCE INFORMATION OUT OF HIM or is it just his voice. maybe both
-more lore bits abt mada that i can only get bits n pieces from
-towa provoking da hell out of this mf.
-literally what the HELL is happening some other dude came in i hear clothes rustling and towa said Unhand Me
-HELLO GLASS JUST BROKE THAT SCARED ME WHY ARE NITROPLUS’ SOUND EFFECTS SO REALISTIC
-ITS MADA LMFAKOOK HE BROKE IN AND ASAID “towa. u in here?”
-the guy who sounds like koujaku is back apparently w him. they saved towa :D
-OK WHERE DID EIJI MAYU AND KOTAROU COME FROM I MISSED SOMETHING. i did.
track 9
-more kotarou eiji and mayuuuu. looks like they’re with towa and madarame now
-ok they left lawl
-everything’s all chill now i think that last track was the drama. i can’t wait until somebody translates the whole thing so i can actually understand what da hell happened
-once again their voices when they speak to each other alone are just 💔💔..
-it got a bit intimate at the end there i think i’m abt to hear a secks scene ngl
track 10
-YUP THE JAZZ MUSIC PLAYIN AND THERES KISSIN
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-blood and knife(?) mention oh it’s abt to get real crazy in here
-mada: want me to cut you (non-verbatim ish)
towa: yes…..!!
-i’m punching the air.
-*cut sfx* mada: did that hurt?
towa:… feels good
-towa is such a fucking freak (affectionate) my god
-i think mada is licking the blood up oh my goodnes i’m abt to pass out and i’m only 2 min in
-oh he’s . towas whimpering . i’m normal (yes they’re fucking now)
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-towa: cut me more. i want it to hurt
-mada keeps cutting him and towa keeps doing that little whimper FAWKKKK I CANR
-after they finished
towa: you’re covered in blood.
mada: whose fault is that?
towa: yours, isn’t it?
-ok that just changed me and i am very glad i bought this CD so i can now listen to it for the rest of time.
track 11 (last one!! ;_;)
-outside ambience. towa talking abt da sky
-at the coffee shop again talking w da waiter
-melancholy music playing.. why am i feeling emotional
-if i heard this correctly mada and kaga had coffee together that tasted like what they’re having rn?¿ madarame talking more abt his past but like. fondly i guess
-madarame said something that kind of gagged towa but IDK WHAT IT WASSSS HE SAID “who knows”
ARKTA song once again for the ending! AND IM DONEEE
ok so. i’m not gonna give a full review since i didn’t understand all of what they were saying but i saw on twt some people are going to start translating it? so perhaps i’ll relisten once a translation is out and give my full thoughts but as of now i loved it regardless. i missed towa and madarame a lot i love their dynamic 💔 just a bunch of freaks fighting mfs occasionally and going anywhere but still sticking beside one other. im rly glad i actually bought it because i get to listen to it whenever AND it’ll probably feel like the first time once i finally listen to it along with an eng translation so i actually know wtf is GOING ON
anyways hi and thank u if u read this whole thing. ’m gonna buy the rest of them soon and also make a review post but probably not as long. the reason is because god i MISSED TOWAS VOICE SO MUCH LOL i must hear it again. that is all
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jebewonmorelike · 11 months
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Marshmallow Beach
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wc: 3.3k pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: fairly angsty for most of it but i ended it pretty funny so there's something for everyone lmao, drowning but it's not real, mentions of financial struggle, probably an inaccurate description of cpr idk we never really learned it in school which is kind of bad lol summary: coworkerwithsomehistory!gyuvin decides to pull the meanest prank in the world on overbearingheadlifeguard!reader after an incredibly tense summer at the beach ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ i literally wrote most of this AT the beach, which was so fun. i was watching some of the lifeguards goof off together and i was like-- imagine zb1 as lifeguards. i feel like, with summer almost in full swing where i am, i will most definitely have to make more lifeguard!zb1 fics bc it's such a cute scenario. lmk if that sounds good to you. also the ending is so funny, i can picture gyuvin and the other boys perfectly in that scene UGH also i accidentally made gyuvin say his catchphrase in this, i wrote it and then i was like oh my god what... comment if you spot it
“It’s not that cold.”
You stare at the boy standing knee-deep in the ocean in front of you— his skin beginning to turn the same color as the water as his teeth chatter audibly over the crashing waves and the wind that’s suddenly picking up.
“Gyuvin, that’s enough—,” you start to scold, but the tall teenager continues to wade further into the sea. The waves are growing bigger and the sun has almost completely dipped past the horizon line.
“Hyung-ah, wait for me!” The youngest of the lifeguards calls, pulling his grey hoodie over his head and running off into the ocean after him.
“Gunwook-ah! I really don’t think you guys should be—.”
“Why are you always such a narc, (Y/N)?” Gyuvin shouts back at you, grabbing the younger boy and dunking him under the water as soon as he reaches him.
You sigh annoyedly. This was your fourth summer as a lifeguard at Village Beach; you’d been a fairly diligent and dedicated employee the past three years and at the beginning of this summer you’d been promoted to Head Lifeguard.
Your friend Taerae had been hired at the same time as you; Ricky and Gyuvin joining the team the year after. The previous summers you’d loved hanging out with your fellow lifeguard friends, goofing around on breaks, and, most importantly, being able to help beach-goers however you can. This summer, however, has been anything but enjoyable.
You’d needed the extra money before your junior year at college, so you didn’t think twice about taking the position as Head Lifeguard. But, boy… You should have. Now nearly every responsibility of the beach fell on your shoulders. There had been no time for fun, no time for friends and no time for…
“Gyuvin-ah, please,” you yell, watching as both Ricky and Taerae follow the two younger boys into the ocean until the water is up to their chests. “Are you kidding me!?”
“Can you lighten up for once!?” Gyuvin shouts back, rolling his eyes. “Oh sorry, I forgot: you’re a massive killjoy now!”
You see Taerae wince, but he doesn’t say anything. Of course that’s what they all thought of you now. You’d probably hate yourself, too. Yelling at the other lifeguards when they weren’t paying attention, handing out citations when they clocked in late, reporting back to your boss about any ways they had been lacking, blowing your whistle whenever one of them left their post unscheduled...
Everyone’s favorite co-worker had become the boss’s pet. Sure, it got you a few extra dollars on the hour, but was it really worth losing your friends? The nervous looks the new kid Gunwook gave you whenever you entered the break lounge? The multiple occasions where you’d walked into a restaurant after a shift to see all of your friends eating dinner without you?
The boy you’d had a crush on for three summers now calling you a narc; a killjoy?
You know you could’ve been a little easier on them. They were all great lifeguards; showed up and worked hard during early morning training and were (almost) always alert. But you’d only been trying to do your best and keep your position. The truth was, you desperately needed that extra money. It was the only way you were going to be able to buy your books next semester. And when your boss was always such a hardass, threatening to give the position to someone else if you couldn’t keep up...
But now all these boys only see you as a tyrant. A snitch. And undoubtedly a bad friend.
It’s a cool August evening; a party for the lifeguards before your last week of work. You were positive that you were the last person any of the boys wanted here, but Ricky had accidentally let the plan slip in front of you. Your longest friend, Taerae, had laughed awkwardly in an attempt to cover it up, walking over to you and telling you the details-- ensuring that they had just forgotten to let you know.
Though you knew the invitation was disingenuous, you’d showed up anyway. After all, it was right after your shift ended and on the beach where you work. Maybe you were just curious as to what they’d get up to. Maybe you were so starved for fun by now that you were willing to insert yourself in what had to be one of the most awkward bonfires you’d ever attended (because of your presence, of course).
And they probably wouldn’t believe you but maybe you really missed them.
“I finally got that girl’s number today,” Ricky says, taking a bite of the marshmallow on his roasting stick. “Before dinner break. She came up to me and started asking about sharks and I--.”
“Told her to stop bothering you while you were working?” You mumble to yourself before a scan around the now silent group informs you it had been audible. You look back down at your own gooey marshmallow, picking a piece off and popping it into your mouth. You knew exactly the girl Ricky was talking about. He’d admired her from afar since last summer, gushing to you, Taerae, and Gyuvin about everything she did each Friday that she came to the beach.
You should be congratulating him, but your brain has been so acutely re-hardwired this summer that all you could do was scold him for not doing his job.
“Hey, remember when you used to be nice?” Gyuvin asks suddenly, taking a sip from his can while his eyes remain locked on you.
“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just--.”
“Just doing your job, we know. It’s one of your ten pre-programmed phrases,” he interrupts sarcastically. “Don’t say too much, Ricky. (Y/N)’s just gonna report it back to the boss anyway.”
“No, I’m not,” you reply, rolling your eyes. Much more quietly, you add, “I’m happy for Ricky.”
“Are you? Are you even friends with Ricky anymore?” Gyuvin continues his criticism. “Are you friends with any of us? You barely even know Gunwook! You yelled at him for jumping off his post instead of using the ladder before you even officially met him.”
You just stare back at him, well aware that everything he’s saying is valid. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. The disdain in Gyuvin’s eyes now is palpable. It’s hard to imagine that almost a year ago to the date, you’d sat together on the shore in the moonlight-- letting the waves crash over your feet as you told him how you wished that summer would never end. How he’d leaned over to you so that your right shoulder touched his left, his large hand finding its way on top of yours innocently. How, rather than annoyance in his eyes, he’d instead looked at you like he wanted to...
“Too good for us, huh? Go ahead, ignore me,” Gyuvin scoffs, shaking his head and taking another sip of his drink. You’d zoned out-- he was right. But if he only knew the actual reason... “See if I care. Why are you even here anyway?”
You let a moment pass in silence. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you mumble to no one in particular; trying your best to hold in the flood of emotions that’s boiling beneath the surface. Taerae taps your arm as you walk past him, but you just nod passively in response-- continuing up the sand.
You take your time in the bathroom, staring in the mirror and willing yourself not to cry. When you return to the bonfire, there’s been a small but noticeable shift in the wind-- and the ocean is responding accordingly. That’s why you’re so shocked when Gyuvin suddenly pulls his sweatshirt over his head and runs towards the water with a devilish grin on his face.
And now that all four of your fellow lifeguards are up to their chests in cold, rising night waves, you’re more than a little pissed at Gyuvin. And the fear rising in your chest is becoming overwhelming.
“Binnie, I--,” you shout over the roar of the waves crashing at your feet but you know he can’t hear you. You can barely see him now; he’s under the water for at least ten seconds at a time as the waves grow even higher in the wind. “I promise I’m not trying to nag you, but you’re scaring me!”
The other boys look back at you from a bit closer to shore, weird looks on their faces. They turn to each other, now appearing wary but not really of Gyuvin’s safety. Taerae and Ricky keep looking back at you-- concern suddenly tangible in their eyes as they whisper to each other intensely.
Over the waves, you can faintly hear Gunwook calling to Gyuvin, “Hyung-ah, maybe this is--.”
Gyuvin shakes his head dismissively, stepping out further into the nearly black ocean-- a large wave rising in front of him. He turns around; smiling back towards the shore and giving a thumbs up.
“BIN-AH!” You cry as the giant wave collapses behind Gyuvin, hurtling towards the tall boy at rapid speed. If he was paying attention, the wave would be fairly easy for him to swim through. But he’s not. “BEHIND YOU!”
Before he can turn around, the wave overtakes Gyuvin-- submerging him under the water. You watch the surface, horrified as the wave knocks the other three boys off their feet before finally hitting your ankles in a soft foam. Seconds pass; the other boys eventually scramble to their feet, but...
Gyuvin doesn’t.
It’s twenty seconds. Twenty-five. Thirty.
You’re frozen in place. You’re a lifeguard-- you should be running into the water to find him. But you find yourself unable to move. Unable to breathe as if you’re the one underwater.
Luckily, the other three boys are swimming out to where Gyuvin is-- all three diving under the water before Ricky surfaces with something on his back. All three of them help carry the weight of the tallest boy between them, pulling him to shore laboredly.
When the water is finally below their knees, your body snaps out of its frightened paralysis as you finally get a good look at a seemingly unconscious Gyuvin. Running over to the boys and wrapping your hands around one of Gyuvin’s biceps to help support him, you help to drag him onto the sand.
Lying him down flat on his back, you kneel down over Gyuvin’s stomach-- a knee on either side of his chest. Placing an ear over his mouth, you check to see if he’s breathing. He’s not. Your panicked paralysis has now done a 180-degree flip; you’re so scared that any common sense has completely left your brain and you’re propelled into frantic action. You don’t even register that his heart is still beating strongly-- that you don’t have to be doing chest compressions or pinching his nose and connecting your lips to his to administer a rescue breath like you are right now...
Gyuvin’s eyes shoot open so quickly that the surprise jolts you off of him. You sit back upright on your knees over his stomach, watching as he blinks back at you wide-eyed.
The lack of salt water dripping from Gyuvin’s mouth suddenly stifles you. Something isn’t right about this.
Finally, he forces a laugh and his tone that follows is anything but frightened, relieved, pained, or any other emotions that someone who just nearly drowned might be exhibiting. “Really? Chest compressions? A rescue breath? Are you sure you’re Head Lifeguard? You seriously couldn’t tell I wasn’t actually drowning?”
You stare at him for a moment before glancing back at the other boys behind you. They look more uncomfortable than anything. Turning back to look at Gyuvin’s smirking face, which is albeit a little blue still from the water temperature, you realize you’re the only one currently experiencing any fear.
“What?” You whisper breathlessly.
“Gotcha,” Gyuvin says with a grin, lifting up on his elbows to look at the boys behind you. “I think that prank was a success.”
“You--... You weren’t drowning?” You ask, the reality of the situation sinking in. After this summer-- after what you’d said at the bonfire-- Gyuvin had decided to play this horrific prank on you to... what? Teach you a lesson? Get revenge? Traumatize you?
You turn to look at the other boys. “And you knew?”
All three of them already look regretful, heads hung slightly in shame. Now you realize that they’d been wary about this since you’d called to Gyuvin that he was scaring you. They’d turned to each other concernedly-- Gunwook had even tried to ask him to reconsider tricking you like this.
“What the FUCK is wrong with you!?” You shout, hitting Gyuvin’s chest with your hands as all of the tension spills out of you. “I thought you were gonna die! I thought you--... I thought you--...”
“What? Gonna tell the boss? Gonna write us up?” Gyuvin asks, far too sardonically. “Gonna--... Hey, wait, are you crying?”
Water is dripping onto Gyuvin’s abs and it’s not coming from the sky. The wind has lulled and the air is warm again-- the black night above the ocean dusted in thousands of clustered stars.
“Why would you do this? Do you hate me that much? All of you?” You ask, eyes fixed on the water. “I know I was the absolute worst all summer and I don’t think anyone is more upset about it than me! You think I don’t miss having fun with you guys!? This summer has been a literal nightmare.”
There’s cautious silence except the slow crashing of the waves.
“The truth is I really needed the extra money. I wouldn’t have been able to go to college next semester without it, so I’ve just had to tolerate being a miserable narc to my boss who keeps threatening to replace me-- all while having no friends during what used to be my favorite part of the year,” you confess, your dignified tears only growing more haggard. “I’m really sorry. I’m so, so sorry for everything, but why--... Why would you make me think that you--... ”
Your eyes are boring into Gyuvin’s now; his are wide and unnerved staring back at you. “I missed you so much,” you say softly, nearly inaudible over the murmuring of the ocean beside you. You know he heard you, though, from the way his body tenses under you. “But don’t worry: you’ve made it clear now you don’t feel the same.”
Your whole body is still a bit shaky from the adrenaline, but you manage to stand up-- stepping over Gyuvin and walking towards the other boys.
“(Y/N), we--,” Taerae starts an attempt at an explanation, but you’re less than interested.
Walking through him and Ricky, shoulders brushing unceremoniously as you head back up toward the recreation building, you mutter under your breath: “Jerks.”
~
You’re in the break lounge for at least ten minutes before the sound of the doors bursting open grabs your attention. It’s Gyuvin standing in the doorway, wearing his red and white hoodie again and a pair of grey sweatpants. He doesn’t say anything.
“Go away,” you threaten half-heartedly; even the energy to be rightfully mad at him has been sucked out of you.
“No,” he replies, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He leans his back up against it cautiously, obviously not wanting to upset you further by invading your space more than necessary.
You sigh deeply; it’s not angry or mocking. Just tired. “Do you need water? I know you weren’t actually drowning, but that had to hurt your throat-- holding your breath like that.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t be nice to me after I was just so mean to you,” the tall boy replies, shaking his head. “And I could’ve held my breath for five more minutes if I had to. State record holder: remember?”
You do remember. Gyuvin had told you about his swimming achievement two summers ago-- when he was just a newbie lifeguard at the beach. He’d bought you an ice cream sandwich out of the vending machine when you’d said you really wanted one. He bought you one every time after that that he’d caught you staring longingly at the machine.
“I’m really sorry.”
You both say it at the same time. It’s simultaneously painfully awkward and the greatest relief.
“I’m sorry for being so terrible all summer,” you say quickly, not wanting to have a back-and-forth over who’s gonna apologize first. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like I think I’m too good for you now or that I was purposefully ignoring you... and everything in between. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. And I’m really sad that I can’t.”
“I completely understand that you needed the money. You deserve to go to school more than anyone I know. I just wish you would’ve told me,” he says, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t’ve judged you. And then I would’ve known why you’d started acting all... you know.”
You nod. “I know. I’m really sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” Gyuvin says after a moment; a sheepish smile creeps onto his face. “My turn, I guess.”
“Mmhmm,” you agree, narrowing your eyes at him. “Better be good, too.”
“First off, I’m incredibly sorry. I went way too far and it wasn’t cool at all. I really didn’t mean to scare you like that-- I kind of thought you’d just be a regular amount of worried or that you’d catch on that it was a prank faster but--.”
“Are you blaming this on me being too stupid to figure it out or...?” You ask, an eyebrow raising at him.
“NO! No, I didn’t mean that. I just... I was really upset, honestly. I’ve been upset this whole summer about you. And then on the one night you’re actually hanging out with us again, you were still acting the same way,” he explains, a hand raising to scratch his arm. “I just thought that if you didn’t care about me anymore then... maybe I could make you care about me again.”
“By... pretending to drown in front of me? A little toxic of you-- I hate to admit.”
“Definitely not the best idea I’ve ever had,” he laughs awkwardly, hand reaching for the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). Are you okay?”
You nod, looking down at your hands in your lap. “Was really shitty of you, Binnie.”
“Really, really shitty of Binnie, I know,” Gyuvin says, a small pout on his lips. “That guy’s the worst.”
“He really is,” you agree, a smile threatening to peek through. “But you didn’t need to make me care about you again. I never stopped.”
He looks at you, eyebrows raising with surprise.
“I feel like I missed everything this summer. Ricky’s pining over that girl that eventually paid off, Taerae trying to throw Cheez-its from his post all the way to mine, our post-work lifeguard dinners,” you recount sadly. “But you know what I missed most of all?”
Gyuvin’s eyes are bright, but he shakes his head. “What?”
“Oh come on, you know exactly what I’m gonna say,” you tease with a disbelieving smile.
He smiles back, answering softly, “Wanna hear you say it.”
The way your stomach flutters is so stupidly joyful that it’s embarrassing. “You,” you say, indulging him. “I missed you most of all.”
“I missed you,” Gyuvin echoes, grinning like an idiot. “Like... SO, so much.”
You don’t care how embarrassing you’re being anymore-- you hop up from the couch and run over to Gyuvin, lifting up on your toes and throwing your arms around his neck. He picks you up off the ground for a moment-- arms supporting your back and waist as he roughs you up a bit in his typical big-dog-energy way. He places you back on the ground, hands still attached to your waist.
You remember the look that’s in his eyes now. It’s the same one he gave you that night on the beach last summer. Is he still too shy? Is he unsure after all that happened this summer?
It’s obvious what he wants to do. Maybe you could make up for everything this summer by helping him out here...
“Your lungs must be aching, Binnie,” you start, smiling up at him sweetly. “Surely it must hurt at least a little bit to breathe now.”
Gyuvin frowns, shaking his head. “No, I’m all good! I could do it again actually if I had to.”
You narrow your eyes at him, kicking his shin lightly with your foot. “It must be so difficult for you to breathe on your own right now,” you overly emphasize each word in hopes that he catches on. “Maybe you need some more rescue breaths...”
“I don’t need--,” Gyuvin starts to deny again before his eyes suddenly widen. “I--... Oh... Uh... You know what-- you’re right! It turns out I really do need some rescue breaths after all of that. And you know, you were so good at administering them before...”
You press up on your toes again and Gyuvin carefully leans down to meet you-- your lips finding his in a long-anticipated kiss. It’s tender and his soft lips taste and feel like roasted marshmallows. You pull back, smiling at each other shyly.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you home,” he says, hand around your waist as he pulls the door open behind him.
THUD. Thud. Thuddd.
Ricky, Taerae and Gunwook look up at you from the floor-- apparently having fallen down when the door they’d been pressed against was opened.
“Hear anything good?” You ask, eyebrows raised expectantly.
All three boys mumble their apologies as Gyuvin leads you through the doorway past them. You turn around to call back to them, “Hope you guys clock in at 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning! Ricky, you’re running out of Level 1 citations.”
“Wait, what!? I thought you were gonna be super chill again from now on!” Ricky exclaims.
Taerae nods. “Yeah, didn’t you just apologize for being annoying all summer?”
“I got a citation last week for being three seconds late,” Gunwook says frantically. “THREE! I can’t do this anymore!”
“Whoah, whoah, whoah, that’s enough fellas,” Gyuvin says, popping his sunglasses on (indoors and at night). “You all better be compliant from now on. (Y/N)’s got a job to do and if any of you get in the way, you will be answering to me. Well, after you answer to (Y/N), of course.”
Tightening his grip around your waist, Gyuvin leads you down the hallway of the beach recreation building and out the doors into the warm summer night air.
“We’ve been bamboozled,” Taerae whispers.
Ricky groans, “And we still have to show up to work at 7:30 tomorrow morning.”
Gunwook twitches. “... THREE!”
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
Note
HIHIHI
Soo i had a very fun ideia
Idk if you know ride the cyclone but basically its a musical theater show where shows a group of dead teenagers who died in a rollercoaster called cyclone and they were in some kind of limbo and they have to decide between themselves whos going to revive since only one can.
Theres this mysterious participant called Jane doe in the musical, nobody knew her when she was alive, no one knew her actual name, no one knew NOTHING about Jane, not even Jane knew herself completely. She only knew very little from her life and that she desperately wanted an identity.
SO HEAR ME OUT!!!
Jane doe type!reader and the gang
Like reader remembers very little from her life but enough to know that they were lonely, and they have this very mysterious personality where they have almost no emotion in their voice and very unaware about how they talk and act, like reader can say the most disturbing thing to others without even noticing. And reader is a doll like character just like Jane, so they sometimes act in a robotic way, almost like imitating a doll.
Example on how they talk:
Someone of the gang brings up something that freaks them out and reader will go like: "you know what really freaks me out? When a lioness and a lion have children the lioness will stop making love to the lion and give attention to the children, the lion gets jealous, sometimes so jealous that he eats the children, you think that would upset the lioness? Far from it, they just go back to making love as if the children never existed. I find that ideia terrifying."
In a full emotionless robotic-like voice without even knowing that they just said the most terrifying thing ever.
But when someone asks about reader's real life, they will go full SAD MODE AND START THROWING VERY EMOTIONAL THINGS.
Saying things like: "i knew very little from my poor life, but i knew that i was just a lonely poor soul. Lost in the way of life, i ask myself everyday, why such misery?" And keeps blabbering about it.
(If you want you can listen to Jane Doe's music to understand a little more better about the voice, its called 'the ballad of Jane Doe')
Sorry for making it so long, wanted to just make things easier for you by explaining everything without you needing to burn your beautiful little brain researching! I love your vlog by the way <3
The rest of the cast x jane doe type! reader!
linking the other post under the cut, but if i had a nickel for how many times someone has made a RTC themed request for TADC i would have two, which isnt a lot but its odd thats is happened; in the same day no less!/lh/nm
i think this is my sign to get into RTC, ive only listen to 3 of the songs (talia, ballad of jane doe, and noels lament)
ballad of jane doe had a choke hold on me in September, as well as noels lament
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POMNI, JAX, AND RAGATHA
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CAINE:
aha! haha! i think he would shoot back a fact thats nearly just as disturbing and/or obscure as yours!
though if its something particularly macabre he might look like the gif above. just pauses, speechless, before just
"oh! thats nice reader!" i mean, he might scold you if its too much, afterall the circus is a place for all ages and he would hate that be compromised!
youre in luck, he doesnt really ask you about what your life was like before the digital world, since well, he understands that everyone pretty much forgets everything; i think this applies to everyone tbh
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GANGLE:
side note its so hard to find gangle gifs
very similar to ragatha in the regard that she tries to make sure youre not wandering off during a rather hectic IHA
kind of just grins and bears through your "fun" facts, but if her comedy mask is broken shes very bad at hiding some of the shock and discomfort on her face
probably makes a little whining sound/sounds like shes about to cry if you spit out a particularly brutal one
i forgot to mention it in the previous post for ragatha but i think her and gangle would be the ones most likely to try to console you if you begin grieving your lost life and memories
ragatha probably being the more successful one whereas gangle just lets you cry and get your feelings out; as well with some complimentary awkward shoulder pats
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ZOOBLE:
finds some of them interesting! i think i said somewhere that zooble would be the type to be into the dark stuff before getting trapped in the circus, or at least they do to me. so i think you two would be on par with one another in terms of infodumping
unless im confusing them with someone else, i do have a habit of getting my hcs wrong and/or mixed up (looks at my old posts for crp where i constantly switch back and forth on whether or not slenderman would know how to cook)
with that aside, i think if they truly were not in the mood to listen to you or just wanted the quiet they would let you know in the nicest way zooble can
"no one wants to hear your net facts, reader"/ref but in a tired and over it tone whereas in the last post with jax hes kinda mean about it
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KINGER:
do not say a bug fact he will not shut the hell up, he will go on and on for hours about different bug stuff, perhaps you two going back and forth for god knows how long. i dont think he would be too creeped out by the more... creepy facts of the critters, oddly enough, since like, he understands it so why would he be afraid?
probably gets put off by your tone and movements, but its not enough for him to approach you to talk about bug stuff
mf yall are both wandering off during an IHA TToTT
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Text
Open and Waiting (Chapter 2)
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Gif from this post by @ashr-jedi
Summary: Hunter makes an appearance. You continue to warm Tech’s cock with your mouth and ruminate on previous experiences with Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo.  
Relationships: Tech x f!reader, a little bit of Hunter x f!reader, mentions of Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader
Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, voyeurism, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, poor self worth, feelings, smut with feelings, sexual inexperience, inexperienced reader, polyamory, gag reflex, pretend sci-fi technology/science, pretend Star Wars planets and locations, not beta read. Mentions of: Deep throating, face fucking, fingering, thigh fucking, tit fucking, bukkake, cum as lube, finger fucking, grinding, toys, butt plug.
Word Count: 2085 (Chapter 2)
Authors Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. The filth continues. Interspersed with … feelings? In my smut? It’s more likely than you think. 
I realised I forgot to give any context for where this story sits timeline wise and who the character of the reader is! Timeline wise, this happens at some nebulous point after Echo joins The Bad Batch and before Order 66. The reader is part of the Batch but beyond that you can interpret them however you wish. The most common example I've seen is a medic but a jedi, mechanic, intelligence officer or some other random reason for the reader being in the squad could all work as well. Whatever works for you. The main thing is that the reader is a submissive that the Batch share between themselves and are the reader's dominants. The Batch are all Dom’s in the AU of this fic, but they all have different ways of approaching it, which you’ll hopefully get a little inkling of in this chapter.
Chapters: One, Three, Four, Five, Six | Ao3
Open and Waiting (Chapter 2) 
I don’t know how much time passes but eventually I hear the faint hiss of the cockpit door opening and a soft, smooth stride moves out into the main area of the ship.
Hunter.
Our sergeant can be completely silent when he wants to be, so he’s deliberately making sure his approach can be heard. An existence created purely for tracking means that he’s basically permanently stealthy. It can be decidedly startling when he just appears next to you out of nowhere. We really need to put a bell on him or something. Though he’d probably figure out how to move so that it didn’t make a sound. Sneaky bastard.
A gruff voice at the end of the workbench announces his arrival.
“That’s in more bits than when I saw it last.”
“Yes.” Tech replies. “I hypothesised that the size of the casing could be reduced by 2.56% if I reconfigured the internal power connectors into a series of bi-linear couplings. I am currently applying this theory to the prototype you see before you, hence the 'bits' on the workbench.”
“That’s a lot of parts to shove into a small box.” responds Hunter.
“They will fit.” Tech testily replies.
“I don’t doubt that.” Hunter answers.   
There’s a brief pause while Tech zaps something and Hunter shifts slightly to the side.
I think I’m being inspected.
Hunter definitely can’t have missed that I’m currently naked, kneeling between Tech’s thighs with my eyes closed, hands restrained behind my back and Tech’s cock stuffed in my mouth.
“You went with the leather cuffs then.” Hunter states.
I am definitely being inspected.
“They are more suited to the purposes of this exercise.” Tech explains. “The focus is on sensation and submission and as an introduction to this practice, I thought it pertinent to ease into the experience gently. The leather cuffs provide an acceptable level of restraint and serve as a reminder of their position, both physically and mentally.”
“Plus you made them.” Hunter adds.
“Correct. Both the wrist cuffs and collar are of my own design and creation.” Tech replies.
They’re talking about me like I’m not even here. Like I’m not currently desperately drooling around Tech’s cock, unable to move or escape their gaze. The thought makes my pussy throb.
“Oh, she’s enjoying this.” Hunter laughs.
“I trust you can smell her arousal.” Tech asks, though it’s not framed as a question.
“Yup.” Hunter answers. “I could smell her in the cockpit like she was in there. It’s stronger than usual.”
“I have observed a number of indicators of her heightened state of arousal myself.” Tech adds.
“Is this what she’s been worrying about?” asks Hunter.
“If by ‘this’, you mean the practice of cock warming that the two of us are currently engaging in, then yes.” Tech replies.
“You’ve just got your dick in her mouth.” Hunter observes bluntly.
“Yes.” replies Tech. “That is the point.”
There’s a rather telling pause and I can just picture the looks that are being exchanged. An arched, tattooed eyebrow is probably being met with a decidedly unimpressed flat stare emanating from behind yellow lenses. Another slip of drool spills from the corner of my stretched mouth and runs down my chin to join the rest of the mess that is covering my face.
Tech shifts and launches into a lecture. There’s probably a finger being raised.
“Cock warming is the practice of placing one's cock in an orifice of one's partner. This can be done via the mouth, rear or vagina, if the penetratee possesses that particular genitalia. The cock is then left inside the partner's orifice where they are to keep it warm. The name speaks for itself. Outside of the basic principle of the act, the parties involved can agree on various additional stipulations, such as how long the penetratee must keep their partner's cock inside them or if they are allowed to move or make noise. I have read numerous accounts where both partners extol the virtues of this practice, describing it as surprisingly peaceful and an excellent way of entering subspace.”
“I’m sure it’s enjoyable, I’ve just never heard of it, that’s all.” Hunter supplies.
“I must admit that I was not overly familiar with the practice myself but it has proved to be a most enjoyable addition to our play thus far.” Tech provides.
I could already tell he was enjoying it, given the harness of his erection currently occupying my mouth. Hearing the verbal confirmation just adds to the feeling of deep satisfaction and submission warming in my chest. Another shiver runs through my body and I can feel more of my saliva pool in my mouth.
“Was there a reason for your interruption of my work?” Tech directs at Hunter in a slightly curt manner.
“That’s not the only thing I’m interrupting” Hunter snarks back.
“Quite.” Tech leaves the implication implicit.
Hunter sighs briefly before adding “Yeah we got a comm from the 369th.”
“Ah. Are they still experiencing difficulty with the Separatist base built into the side of the Markontia Gorge on Bezril IX?” Tech asks, fully aware of the answer already.
“Yeah, they might need our help with their current campaign but nothing’s confirmed yet so we’re on standby for now. If they need us to blast a hole into the Seppie base then we should hear back by the next rotation.” Hunter adds.
“Wrecker will be pleased.” Tech comments.
“I can think of something else that would please Wrecker.” Hunter slyly hints at.
“Wrecker may make use of our shared submissive when it is his turn.” Tech replies swiftly, irascible intent laced through the words, making it crystal clear that I am his right now.
“Additionally, he has made it quite clear that he does not wish to test the limits of her capacity for oral penetration until her gag reflex has improved.” Tech adds.
A slice of shame and disappointment cuts through me. I’ve always had problems with my gag reflex. Lack of experience will do that to you, I guess. I’ve been slowly working on improving it and they’ve all been so gentle and careful and patient with me. I desperately want to be able to deep throat each of them or be face fucked into a wall one day. At the moment though, the best I can manage is the tip of one of their cocks at the back of my mouth and even that still sets the damn thing off sometimes.
Wrecker has been so sweet about it. There is no denying that he is exceptionally well endowed and that his cock is, well, enormous, to put it bluntly. The poor man is well aware of it too. There is nothing I’d love more than to be absolutely impaled on his thick cock, but the first time I saw it I did worry that I’d never be able to fit it in me. I still do but we’re slowly getting there. He’s been so wonderful and understanding of my current abilities and their limits. Wrecker is such a beautiful human to experience pleasure with. He’s so full of joy about the entire thing. I didn’t have a great deal of experience before somehow ending up with all of them and I’d never had a joyful sexual encounter before Wrecker. I didn’t even know it was possible and had burst into tears afterwards. He’d been so alarmed and concerned that he’d inadvertently hurt me but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Thankfully, he’s the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and we’d had a wide-ranging, open and reassuring conversation about sexual experience and intimacy as I lay curled against his chest. I still struggle with tensing up sometimes and Wrecker has been a great boon in getting me more accustomed to preparation. He’s a big proponent of lube and has a whole assortment of different types that we’re slowly working our way through. One or two of his fingers are more than enough to open me up and I could have those big, thick, slicked up digits sliding in and out of me for hours.
And there is nothing quite so wondrous as lying there laughing and kissing and giggling as he fucks my thighs. Wrecker has been very keen to emphasise that there’s more to sex than just penetration and we’ve been exploring some intriguingly varied ways to experience pleasure together. The first time he’d fucked my tits was something else. His oleaginous, lubed cock sliding between my breasts, cupped in his massive hands as his fingers and thumb played with my nipples. When he’d finally exploded all over my chest, neck and face, I don’t think I’d ever been covered in quite so much cum.
Well, at least not until we had that bukkake session. Trying to get cum out of your hair in a sonic is difficult to say the least and Hunter ended up hand washing it out for me. It had been worth it though for the way they had all looked down at me while they pumped their cocks and came all over my obedient, kneeled form, mouth hanging open and tongue out to catch as much as I could.
I’d knelt there afterwards like a statue. Covered in their cum, stained and claimed in their release. Rivets of translucent white slowly running down my skin. I could feel it pool in the hollow of my neck and drip off my nipples. It sounds ridiculous but in that moment I just wished I could exist like that forever, eternally marked as theirs. Just like I wish I could openly and proudly display the marks they leave on my skin, claims bruised into my neck for all to see. They are all such wonderful dominants, each unique in their own approach. I’m eternally thankful that they all chose me to be their submissive. I would happily serve at their feet and allow them to use me as they pleased for the rest of my existence if this damn war wasn’t going on.
I do need to work on having a bit more self preservation though. One of them is bad enough but whenever they end up scheming together, they start coming up with Plans and Ideas. That’s how I then found myself wiping their cum off me with my hands before eating it in front of them like some lewd and licentious spectacle. Being made to finger yourself using the cum of your dominants as lube while they watch is also a whole new level of depravity. I’d had to beg each of them for permission to cum before I’d finally been allowed to finger fuck myself into oblivion.  
Wrecker isn’t the only one that is explicitly clear that their boundaries for playing with me are guided by my current abilities. Crosshair steadfastly refuses to even entertain my suggestion of face fucking until I can, in his words, “keep my balls against your chin, doll”. Echo had gone all serious when I had timidly requested to go down on him for the first time. There had been some stern yet heart-felt words about the importance of pacing and not rushing into things or pressuring yourself to try something you’re not ready for. We’d ended up grinding against each other instead, which was just as enjoyable. It meant I got to watch him come undone as I thrust my hips into his groin and then he’d made me straddle his leg and grind myself to completion on his thigh. There is something about the sensation of smooth durasteel gliding under your wet, sensitive pussy and pressing against your clit that is otherworldly. I’ll have to ask Tech if he’s able to shape some kind of toy out of the metal. A durasteel butt plug sounds like an excellent idea.
I still wish I could do more for them and wasn’t trapped in my own body and mind. The discontent and shame at my perceived failures is still there, despite how well I might be managing to warm Tech’s cock with my mouth at the moment. My lips are wrapped around a decent amount of his length and the tip of his cock is fairly close to the back of my mouth but I could always do more and try to get him a little deeper. I take a steadying breath through my nose, will my throat to relax and move to take more of him in.
------
Author’s Note: Tiny bit of a cliffhanger! This is mainly because I wrote this all in a giant keyboard mashing haze with absolutely no thoughts of structure. Going back while editing and trying to figure out where to shove in chapters to break it up has been a bit tricky, so if they’re a tad clunky that’s why.
You’ll see how Tech reacts in Chapter 3, along with some musings on previous sessions with Hunter and Crosshair. 
Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant
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acewritesfics · 5 months
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Study Time | Eddie Munson
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⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Request: From Anon
Warnings: Self doubt, feelings of failure. Implied smut.  
Word Count: 845
Credit: @/firefly-graphics for the hellfire club dividers.
Tag List: Open - acewritesfics taglist sign up
Stranger Things Masterlist
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Y/N is startled awake as the trailer door slams shut. She hadn’t intended to doze off while she awaited Eddie’s return from his Hellfire Club meeting. She was more tired than usual since this week at the video store had seemed busier. She wasn’t sure if it was the upcoming spring break or the fact that everyone had chosen to host a movie night this week. She was sorting through the returned VCRs when she started falling asleep at the counter, and Steve had instructed her to go home. 
As Eddie entered his bedroom with a discouraged expression on his face, she sat up on the bed. The mischievous gleam in his deep brown eyes had faded, and his shoulders slumped. 
“What’s wrong?” she asked as he flung himself on the bed next to her. His face hit the pillow as he screamed in frustration and murmured something she couldn’t quite make out. “I’m sorry. What was that? I don’t understand your pillow grumbling.” 
He groans into the faintly stained pillow once more before turning onto his back and looking up at her. “I’m failing yet again.” 
“No, you’re not,” she responds, perplexed as to why he would believe so. He assured her that he was passing his classes, albeit not with an A or even a B, but he was well on his way to graduating.  
“Ms. O'Donnell told me today that I was barely passing her class,” he informs her. “I have to pass her final or I won’t graduate…again.” 
She frowns, remembering her days in the old teacher’s classroom, Prior to starting a relationship with Eddie, she had never had any problems with the teacher. In fact, she had warned her against being in a relationship with Eddie, claiming that the metalhead would only bring her down to his level. “I’m pretty sure the old hag just has it in for you.”  
He sighs, “Or I’m just stupid.” 
She reprimands him for talking so negatively about himself by giving him a little tap on the shoulder. “You’re not stupid. You just struggle sometimes. You are not failing, either. "You just need to pass this final, like you mentioned.” 
“And how am I going to achieve that?” he asks cynically. 
“I’ll help with your studies,” She gets up from his bed and walks over to the desk, which was across the room. She searches through the notebooks until she locates the one she gave him that had all of her notes from the previous year. He sits up as she returns to the bed and settles back down next to him. “Have you gone over my notes from last year?” 
He has a remorseful expression in his eyes as she glances at him. He hadn’t even glanced at her notes, if he were being completely honest. In order to create room for the notebooks that contained all his notes and campaigns for his Dungeons & Dragons adventures, he pushed her notebooks aside and quickly forgot about them. 
“You haven’t, have you?” His silence was all the answer she needed. “Edward Munson.”  
He rolls his eyes, “Jesus Christ, don’t you start on me.”  
He hated that he was letting her down. He didn’t want to. She had been by his side through both his failure to graduate while she graduated herself last year. She had the opportunity to end their relationship and move on to someone else, but she stuck with him, offered him support, and continued to love him through it all. 
“Look through my notes. I’ve highlighted everything that should be helpful,” she instructs him. “I’ll do my best to help you if there is anything you need help with.”  
“I’m struggling with everything,” he admits, leaning back against his headboard. She feels Eddie drawing circles on her back. His light touches her, sending a thrill through her body. “Where are you up to in class?”  
As he tells her where they were up to, he leans closer, his chest against her back, kissing her from her shoulder to her neck. She chews her lower lip as she flips through the pages, looking for the necessary notes. 
“Eddie,” she breathes softly, a whimper caught in her throat. As he puts his lips on her sweet spot, his teeth graze her skin. To prevent any further moans from escaping her throat, she bites her lip more firmly. “You need to study,” 
“I can do that later,” he replies, moving away from her neck and turning her head towards him. He takes the notebook from her grasp and tosses it to the side, while he crushes his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. 
He pushes her back into the bed, as he crawls over top of her, running his ringed hands beneath his Dio shirt that she’s wearing. With one knee bowed against his hip and the other wedged between his legs, she pulls on his shirt to draw him closer. She was aware that he was doing this to divert her attention from his difficulties. She would allow the distraction… this time. 
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TAGGED: LINK TO TAG LIST SIGN-UP ABOVE.
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blackwatervial · 9 months
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The Pete Show.
For my rewatch of The Pete Show (sometimes and more uncommonly known as KinnPorsche The Series La Forte), I will be noting down time stamps in which the main character Pete (from the Pete Show) makes an appearance. I will also, as a little bonus, add appearances of his romantic interest “Vegas”. Today:
Episode 5
Episode 5 has one of the side characters called Porsche (the tall, tit-obsessed guy) going through a little crisis at 16:50. Pete, kind as he is, becomes emotional-support Pete. He misunderstands some things, but that's fine. He's just too innocent to deal with Porsche's love-drama
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I wish I had an an emotional-support Pete.
At the 20:00 time stamp, Pete is out partying again, which means we get to see another of his black-and-white party outfits! Also, something I forgot to mention before because they are a well-loved and often-mentioned staple in the Pete fandom: Hoop earings. They're the first instance that really make you realise: Yes. Pete is his own person. He has a preferences, things he likes, a life beyond the family. He likes black/white shirts and hoop earings, probably puts them on and thinks 'I might not be special, but I like how these look on me.' Pete, my boy, I love you and you look great with earrings.
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Minute 23:30 sees the return of Vegas, Pete's love interest whose current vision is very Porsche-focussed, which is incredibl dumb, but! It allows a fan favourite to make a reappearance! Blurry foregroud Pete!
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Next, at 41:20, Kinn comes to visit Pete and get relationship advice - about Porsche! Everyone only ever cares about Porsche, wtf! Pete helps, of course, because he's kind like that, but it doesn't change the fact that the Pete of this episode doesn't pass the bechdel test! Not once does he appear or talk without it being about Porsche. CALLOUT POST FOR EPISODE 5!!!
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Previous Pete Show Posts
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fishysplayhouse · 3 months
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I should probably explain my theory on how Headspace Resets connect to artificial selection!
According to google, artificial selection is "the identification by humans of desirable traits in plants and animals, and the steps taken to enhance and perpetuate those traits in future generations." While thinking about the game's canon lore from a simpler point of view, this might be harder to understand or think about. If you look at Sunny's Headspace through a biological point of view you might see the connections clearer. Traveling through Deeper Well, you'll encounter many unfamiliar creatures each with different direct callouts to the Dreamer and his repressive tendencies. One of these creatures, Blank, says "Your memories are not free. To gain a
memory, another must be shrouded." When humans artificially select a plant, animal, or some kind of organism, it's to perfect it and bury it's former self into the past. Although this is a bit of a stretch, it's only one interpretation.
A second observation made is the many resets of Headspace and/or Dreamworld. Deeper Well was a place mostly pushed back and forgotten by Sunny, but other locations like the Abyss, the Dungeon in Sweetheart's castle, and many Blackspace Areas/Rooms have evidence of how Resets affect the current Headspace we know now.
In the Abyss and the Dungeon, four skeletons resembling the party can be found. One skeleton wears Aubrey's bow so it can only be assumed that that is her. These skeletons are likely the friends who have perished in previous adventures, and every time they died they were left forgotten and replaced by better and stronger versions of themselves.
(I could go ON AND ON about Blackspace for days but for simplicity purposes I'll choose two areas for this) Blackspace Areas like Disco Area and Reef Area both places with qualities of resets/loops. Disco Area is similar in apperance to Neighbor's Room; both having large and colorful yet mysterious cats and bright colors. Most memories regarding the truth, or simply just things not good enough, or too ridiculous are thrown into Blackspace which is the deepest part of Sunny's mind. Disco Area is likely Sunny's first attempt after the incident at creating a place of peace like Neighbor's Room. Though, it clearly failed. (This part of the theory was inspired by something else someone had said about Disco Area and Loquacious Cat being an earlier generation of Neighbor's Room. I wish I could credit that person but I forgot the account >_<)
According to the Omori Fandom Wiki for Reef Area, it is said that "In the game's files, the faceless characters are referred as MANNEQUINS, implying that these versions are a product of BLACK SPACE or remnants from OMORI's previous adventures before resetting HEADSPACE multiple times." Another thing mentioned in the trivia section is "As the heads that are stuck in the walls are the only version of the HEADSPACE friends in the area to have eyes and appear to be asleep, it can be inferred that the REEF AREA is the place where new bodies for the HEADSPACE friends are mass produced in case of an event in which they all die." Through speculation it can be inferred that every version of the Dreamworld friendgroup are "produced" in some kind of unnatural way.
In conclusion, the way Sunny's Headspace works is very fantastic in a strange sense. Omori, or Sunny's consious/imagination is so strong that it can repurpose, enhance, and saturate people, places, and objects to even better and more useful versions of themselves. His will to erase anything relating to Mari's death and the truth is so strong that all of these events have taken place, and Omori selects things for their most perfect traits.
This is just a silly little theory though, and i'd like to here your thoughts, opinions, or additions to this! I hope this helps you when you learn about artificial and natural selection in biology class :D
[This is from 2023 and I posted it on my instagram originally! I know this analysis may have flaws but its nice to compare my biggest hyperfixation and my favorite childhood interest together.]
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