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songmingisthighs · 4 months ago

Text

Missing Out

group : ateez

pairing : dilf!mingi × reader

genre : smut

wc : 4.1 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut; daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, age gap (mingi's like mayhaps at least a decade older, but both are still within legal limits), thigh riding, spitting, alcohol consumption (not to the point of being drunk, it's just for vibes and... spitting lmao),

a/n : frfr i hope he doesn't see this fic because God i would not be able to defend myself. tbh i planned on posting this on mingi's bitthday but i got shit happening to me. shit without my consent and I'm just trying to ride the stress like gandalf hopped up on cocaine riding smaug. so ykw i decided to post this on my birthday instead lmao. special thanks to @kitten4sannie for listening to me drop some ideas while i was on a road trip, i did some adjustments but it's still sexually frustrated dilf!mingi this fic is finally out so i hope you and everyone enjoy it <3

a/n/n : i take no responsibilities for any calf cramp that may or may not happen but alyssa, i still blame you for the great leg cramp at ass o'clock

a/n/n/n : my birthday sucks because it felt more like public service than anything but i got ticket to go to singapore again so i'll be reunited with my little brother and little sisters soon✌️ i'm raising money for my mental wellbeing which is so totally code for i'm trying to find a way to make my shituation better by making myself just the slightest bit happier after today's shenanadoodles

buy me coffee ?

After the day Mingi had, the cold drink in his hand felt like the reward he deserved. It was only then that Mingi realized why people always say that the Family Court is rough. Still, of course, it was extra rough for him because his ex-wife, the horned creature incarnate (a goat, not the devil), had dragged his name through the mud just to get the maximum alimony because she was a narcissistic bum with no life skill to fall back to as if Mingi was the one who told her to quit her job as a dental hygienist when they first got married.

During the mediation meetings and court proceedings, she took all of the potshots she could While no one took her seriously, it still pained Mingi because the more she and her lawyer attacked him, calling out all of his insecurities and questioning his character, the more obvious it was that Mingi had wasted 9 years of his life on this loser and he missed out on all of the marital milestones. The main sore spot was having kids. She argued that putting her body through pregnancy was out of the question because there were risks that could cause her body to look weird in the future and it's inhumane how a woman's body had to contort in such a way to accommodate another living being. But when her breast implant popped when she slammed the car door too hard, it was 'a normal occurrence'.

As much as his friend Yunho told him not to, Mingi couldn't help but wallow in the time he absolutely WASTED on the bitch only to be screwed over. The only good thing that came out of the divorce was the fact that he got out of it without having to pay alimony because his ex-wife had become too cocky with her cards. But still, Mingi had to give her the car, the savings account (that wasn't much compared to anything considering she had drained it to accommodate her filler addiction and alcohol dependency), and Tony Son, their personal trainer, the one thing Mingi could credit her because she had been the one who introduced him to the man who was able to sculpt his body to perfection.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mingi snapped his head to the side to see a woman younger than he, dressed in a tight-bodiced red sparkly dress that showed just enough cleavage for it to be classy rather than trashy and the A-line satin skirt stopped just three fingers width atop her knees. Slowly, Mingi nodded and gestured to the seat on his right side wordlessly. It wasn't until the woman flagged down the bartender and ordered her drink did Mingi questioned why she sat next to him when there were other seats in the bar.

"So, are you alone?" she asked, striking up a conversation with Mingi which honestly caught him by surprise because he had been told that he had a resting bitch face that doubled in intensity when he wasn't in the mood and he was doubling in his bad mood. "Yeah... I am, so..." his words allude to him wanting to be alone, but there was something about the person next to him that intrigued him so much so that his eyes seemed to be glued to her. Just the sight of her drinking her vodka cranberry made Mingi's eyes travel from her face down to her lap, watching the way she moved so gracefully. "So... You don't mind my asking why a man as handsome as you are would be sitting alone with a scowl on his face," she pointed out, forcing Mingi to consciously unfurrow his eyebrows and fake taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not scowling, I'm just tired and pissed off for wasting 9 years on a selfish bitch that deprived me of anything I want in life," he spat venomously, even the slight mention of his ex sent a really unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" She pouted, inching closer to Mingi as somewhat of a signal. Noticing this, Mingi scoffed and shook his head but he still entertained the woman, "Got a time machine to help me undo the past 9 years?" "No, but maybe I can give you what your ex couldn't."

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when the look of shock on Mingi's face melted into intrigue. You had been watching him for an hour, sitting all alone, nursing his one drink as he toyed with his ring before chucking it into his breast pocket. Thank God he did because you were not about to approach a potentially spoken-for man. It took you a while to get substantial evidence of his status and it wasn't just because you were distracted by his plump ass in those slacks and the matching suit jacket and slightly unbuttoned black dress shirt didn't help your case.

"Little girl, I think I'm a bit too... Far for your reach," Mingi pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you as he wasn't sure that you knew what you were offering him. Mirroring him, you raised your eyebrow and shifted so that you faced him fully as you raised one leg and cross it over the other, successfully inviting Mingi to get a glimpse of more skin. "You don't know me or what I can do, sir," you smirked challengingly, now openly inviting him to poke you further.

You were delighted when you saw Mingi's jaw clench and throat bob after you called him sir. It was proof to you that Mingi had some sort of inclination of being in control and his little confession about not getting what he wanted from his ex-wife might be a glimpse of the kind of fun you could get from him. So without hesitation, you decided that you were going home with him.

Surprisingly, Mingi responded positively by leaning in to cup your chin and pull you close, just a wispy breath away from having your lips meet and you so desperately wanted to taste his because they just looked so damn juicy and plump. "You don't want to know all the things I've been deprived of... Baby." Your eyes darken and your legs crossed tighter to suppress the sudden arousal washing over your core, excited at the confirmation that Mingi was playing into your games just as you had wanted. All you needed to do was lock this down. So you let your hand lay on his thigh, squeezing it suggestively and enjoying the feeling of his muscle tensing underneath you each time your hand slid closer to his crotch to the point that your nail was scratching the inner side of his thigh just right. Despite being physically affected by you, Mingi still maintained eye-contact, daring you to poke his button just right.

"Yes, I do... Daddy."

In the blink of an eye, Mingi smashed his lips on you and all of the oxygen was knocked out of your lungs in one go. His lips were soft but the way he used them was rough yet calculated. You could taste the smoky whiskey on his tongue as he slipped it inside your mouth. Little did you know, he too, was enjoying the way you tasted. Your lip gloss had a sweetness to it that made him wonder if you're the type to plan things or if it was just a happy coincidence. He also took note of how you allowed him to lead you and the more he asserted himself onto you with every nibble of his lip and every caress of his tongue, showing that you're more on the submissive side and he likes it. A lot. The more you felt pleasure, the more you pleasured him back as evidenced by your hand rubbing against his raging boner.

Mingi smirked at the way you whimpered when he finally pulled away from you to slap a couple bills on the counter before he got off the stool, pulling you along with him. You wobbled slightly but Mingi immediately pulled you flush on his chest and despite having just made out with him, you found the gesture very hot. "Wanna go see if you can keep up with the list of things I missed out on?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mingi must be some kind of a business owner because no way he would have had a rather impressive office where you found yourself in. Well, on top of him on his couch, grinding your panty-less core against his thigh with your top down, allowing the older man to ogle at your tits as you tried to make yourself cum.

"Is that the best you can do?" Mingi taunted, circling his crystal glass which produced a tinkling sound from the ice in the drink he poured as soon as you reached his home. "Daddy, I want you to touch me," you whined but your hip was still relentlessly moving after making a big deal of how his thighs were so strong and you wanted to sit on them like a throne. So instead of just sitting, Mingi told you to make yourself useful and prep your pussy without his help and he wanted you to do it by riding his thigh. His thick, glorious thigh. "Don't you want to touch me, daddy?" you teased, cupping your boobs and tweaking your own nipples whilst throwing your head back, making a show out of it just to get Mingi to touch you. Sure, Mingi was intrigued, but he knew damn well that he was holding the reigns and he had to hold himself back from jumping at the opportunity to completely ravish you too soon. "I do, baby, but you're being a brat right now and refusing to listen to me. Had I wanted that, I would've stayed with my ex-wife." Your head snapped back up at the mention of his ex-wife and you glared at his smug smirking face, "You have me half naked on your lap and you still mentioned your ex-wife?" you gathered your skirt in your hand, exposing your cunt to Mingi's eyes and slowed your pace to a prolonged drag that left long, dark stain courtesy of your arousal.

Finding your petulance adorable, Mingi chuckled and pulled you in for a searing kiss with one hand cupping your chin and the other slapping you on the ass as if telling you to speed up your movement. "You're an adorable little doll and I'm gonna break you," he muttered against your lips before you could reply to him, Mingi tugged your hair back as he casually took a sip from his drink. The action made you yelp and Mingi swiftly leaned over and spit the drink into your mouth and clamped your jaw shut. "Swallow," he commanded and as you came down from being surprised, you stared into Mingi's eyes. At first, you only stared at him, feigning defiance just for fun and Mingi found that both intriguing and annoying. His grip moved to tightly grasp your jaw and he growled, "Swallow. It." He demanded in a stern voice that made your panties more damp as your cunt clench, leaving you unable to do anything more than whine and swallow the burning liquid. Mingi found you very mesmerizing even on an act as simple as you taking heed of his words. The stray spit and alcohol that trickled from the corners of your lips enhanced the glimmer of your smudged lipstick and lipgloss combo, turning Mingi on with how effortlessly sultry you looked. He was down and he was down bad. He wasn't even sure if he was down because Once the liquid was no longer there, you rolled out your tongue to proudly show your obedience and Mingi let out a shuddered breath seeing you just blindly following his orders like the good puppet you are.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me."

In a flash, Mingi flipped you both around so that you were trapped underneath him with your head strategically on the armrest. The elevation allowed you to watch as Mingi dragged a hand down your body as if you were a work of art. "All this time... I was missing a lot all this time, that bitch took nine years out of me and gave me nothing," Mingi shuddered both in anger and in arousal. The contrasting thoughts between being so angry at his former partner and the excitement of being rewarded by being able to ravish you felt like waves crashing inside him. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It got his adrenaline pumping and God, he felt alive. "Poor baby," you purred all the while slowly popping the buttons of his dress shirt off to reveal the soft skin underneath, "You're so frustrated, It's a good thing I'm here now huh?"

You swung your leg up and used the tip of your toe to tilt Mingi's chin upwards maintaining a somewhat neutral expression but the twinkle in your eyes indicated clear intrigue. "Tell me all the things you want to do. What do you want most?" the question made Mingi roll his eyes back and he grabbed your leg by your ankle. "You nasty slut, you want to have an older cock so bad you're enticing me with empty promises, huh?" He mumbled against the skin of your leg, trailing his lips down from the heel and lower to your calf as his body followed down until he eventually stopped at the mid-section of your inner thigh. You helped him by flipping your skirt up, exposing your cunt wholly to him and slotting the leg you lifted on his shoulder, "Empty promises? I want to give you whatever you want daddy, and in order for me to be able to do that, I need to know what it is."

Thinking that he had nothing to lose anyway, Mingi smirked and decided to test you. "I want a baby," he stated, "I want to put my baby in you," he said oh so casually as if he hadn't had his fingers poking and prodding your cunt like they just belonged there. Truthfully speaking, Mingi was expecting you to push him off and ran away screaming because what kind of a hookup just casually dropped a bomb as big as he did?

But it seemed like Mingi's luck was turning around for the better because you replied by reaching forward to free his cock from his pants, trying as best as you could to suppress the surprise at Mingi's size (but failing as evidenced by the way your eyes bulged slightly and your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip in hunger) before you leaned back and opened your legs widely as an invitation for him. "Then do it, fuck me so hard and dumb and deep that I'd have no other choice but to have your baby," you smiled up at him. Mingi could only stare at you in shock initially, not really knowing what you meant until you whined and pulled him closer using the leg that was hooked on his shoulder. "Daddy, don't make me wait too long. Come on, put a baby in me!" you pleaded, cunt throbbing with eagerness to feel Mingi's cock stretching you now that you already caught a glimpse.

The shock melted away from Mingi's face and even as he was guiding his cock to your core, he was still carefully watching your face, not wanting to waste any twitch or shift in your face from feeling him but also he was trying to be careful in case you showed him any indication of regret or if you changed your mind. But the way you whined and rolled your hips so your wet cunt could meet his cock more gave him the green light.

"You dirty slut," Mingi grunted before he shoved his length inside you in one fluid movement. The accumulating arousal from you riding his thigh provided proper lubrication but his sheer size was not something you're used to so your body tensed up at the impact. "F-fuck, daddy, y-you-" "Am I tearing you apart, baby? Are you being split into two on daddy's fat cock?" he asked in faux worry that was just him being condescending towards you. But you don't care, you found it hot even when he talked down to you as if you were nothing but his plaything. "Yes, yes, daddy, I'm being split open on your cock but I love it! I love it so much!" you moaned, hands clawing at his skin, causing red streaks to appear from the pressure of your nails, "Fuck, I want more!"

With that, Mingi pushed your legs up by your thighs, exposing more of your lower half to him. "Be daddy's good girl and hold these open, I wanna see your pussy taking my cock raw," he hissed, eyes zeroing on the way your puffy lips split open to accommodate his size. Carefully, as if assessing a great piece of art, Mingi watched attentively The view almost brought tears to his eyes but he channeled the somewhat endearing moment into fucking you stupid into the mattress.

Each drag of Mingi's cock felt like fire against your inner walls. Although there was a slight discomfort with each movement, the added pleasure of being filled like you had never before made you addicted.

If you thought you were enjoying yourself, Mingi was very close to combusting and he was trying his best to not cum too soon as he didn't wanna be branded as the geezer who came too early. But he couldn't help it, not with the way both his ego and his cock were stroked. It was as if you were made for him and he felt that the moment he entered your sopping cunt. So Mingi shifted his focus to you instead, working to get you to cum first.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. I need you to cum first so you'd be ripe and open for me to fill you up," Mingi huffed, pressing his pointy nose against the junction of your neck that sent tingles down your spine, "We need to do our best to make sure that you'd be good and pregnant, right?" The weight of his words caused your head to spin as the thought of him filling you full for his own pleasure filled your mind. "Yes, yes daddy, make me cum please," you whined into his ears, your body reacting almost automatically by rolling your hips against his own to match his speed and desire. Mingi growled hungrily and his pace quickened significantly as the impact got harder. You were sure that after this your ass would be different shades of red and blue but you couldn't care less. Especially if Mingi wanted to do more rounds with you, you'd gladly wear the bruises like a badge of honor.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this, you're so hot when you're willing and submissive for me," Mingi grunted, even verging on whining into your ears because you just felt so good to him but he held firm, "Are you close, baby? Are you cumming soon?" Lucky for him, you nodded hurriedly, confirming that you were close. Your brain had been marinating in the dizzying arousal that it was embarrassingly quick for you to nearly reach your climax in a rather short time. However, your response was deemed lacking to Mingi who wanted to hear a verbal response from you. Mingi was quick to slap you hard on your left tit as a punishment, feeling the need to chastise you for simplifying your response.

The words died on Mingi's tongue and his hips sharply halted to a stop when he saw you yelp and shudder before coming completely undone underneath him, writhing pathetically as your nails grazed his skin, leaving red streaks for Mingi to show off for days on end. His eyes darken when he saw tears pooled in your own eyes before dropping, creating the illusion of your eyes sparkling which served a rather complex combination of innocence and sinful. "M-M- Daddy," you whimpered in almost a hushed tone, barely comprehensible but to Mingi the sound was thunderous in Mingi's ears, ringing, because his baby girl needed him. His baby girl wanted him. His baby girl who's willing to give him anything he could ask for was longing for him. So who is he to deny you?

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state seemed to unlock something primal in Mingi because while you were reeling down from your orgasm, Mingi was instead put into some sort of a trance. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, slightly hoping that he could taste your sweetness in the air, and his hips restarted with a pace so hard and quick, for a moment you forgot that Mingi was a human.

The pleasure from your orgasm tripled with the additional friction continuously given by Mingi whose head was flooded with the thought of truly possibly getting you pregnant from this first time. Not that he was planning on only fucking you once, not after he felt how good you made him feel both emotionally and physically. He was planning to pamper you to death and maybe that was the sexually frustrated side in him but he didn't care, he didn't care how crazy he was because you were the one who made him crazy.

The sound of hips snapping together in a rhythm accompanied by your drunk-like moans sounded like a symphony in Mingi's ears. "F-fuck baby, I'm gonna fill you up now," Mingi grunted, his eyes closing and his forehead dropping to your shoulder, "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed to the brim and you're gonna be a good girl and keep it all in so my baby can grow safely inside of you, okay?" He whispered so intimately against your shoulder that both your lips and cunt wept. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a pool underneath you after you were done and you won't hesitate to ask for more. "Cum, daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up so hard and full like you promised me!" You whined, your hands snaking around his shoulders to hold tight as the overstimulation caused a tingling pain that made your toes curl while Mingi was getting such a high from his ego being fed.

"Fuck, baby girl, this is it, I'm gonna put my baby in you!" Mingi grunted and thrusted, once, twice, thrice, before his hips stuttered and you felt a gush of warmth spilling deep inside your cunt. The physical feeling of being filled up made your eyes roll into your head and the realization of what just happened made you blush as if you weren't whoring for his cock not 10 minutes ago.

As Mingi slowly came down from his high, his mind cleared up and he was able to pepper kisses from your shoulders, up your neck, along your jawline, and then gently all over your face. The contrast of the sweetness of the older man and the nasty act you both just did made you suddenly turn all giggly and shy. "Aww, come on, are you trying to get away from me?" Mingi smirked, trying to chase another kiss from your lips but you kept dodging him, "That's pretty absurd considering I still have my cock inside of you, plugging you full." Your eyes widened at the vulgarity of his chosen words and you couldn't help but smack him on the shoulder but fail to hold back a giggle, "Don't say it like that!" "Like what? Like the way it is?" Mingi teased, pushing himself up to trail a finger on your stomach which made your breath hitch and your muscle to tense, "I need to make sure you really do get pregnant so you can give me my baby just like I wanted," his voice trailed as his fingers drew patterns on your skin almost lovingly and the nonsensical side of you wanted to believe that he was showing his affection to you. You figured that there was only one way to find out.

Without missing a beat, you took his finger that was tracing your skin into your mouth and start licking around as if it was a lollipop, effectively causing Mingi's attention to shift to your face and his cock to twitch inside you. "Who said we're only gonna try this once, daddy? You're gonna fuck me as much as you like until I'm good and pregnant."

The smirk that bloomed on Mingi's face was devilish and almost menacing, showing his genuine intention to get wamhat he wanted.

"I hope you'd never ask. I'm gonna fuck you all night long and you're gonna be a good girl and take it all with no complaint."

As if you'd say no.

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fear-is-truth · 1 month ago

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𝜗ϱ fiancé! + husband! 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍 hc

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw headcanons﹒violent fantasies﹒infidelity

a/n: i would like to thank anon for requesting this and credit to dear bow anon for helping out !!

one night, as you both rode in a cab on the way to dinner, patrick takes off his walkman and suddenly asked, “have you ever thought about getting married?” his tone was casual, but his body language betrayed his tension—the tightening of his grip on his leather gloves, the unnecessary way he adjusted his tie. when you turned to him, surprised, he waved it off almost immediately. for the rest of the ride, he ignored you, listening to his walkman.

full fic : the perfect girl

weeks later, the topic re-emerged. it was a quiet morning after sex—patrick lay beside you in his perfectly starched egyptian sheets, sunlight streaming in through the windows. “would you ever consider marrying me?” he asked abruptly. the question startled you—again. you blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly. “marry you?” patrick shifted slightly, propping himself up on an elbow. his face was unreadable, though his jaw tightened slightly. “yes. i’d assume it’s a reasonable consideration,” he said, as though the idea had been entirely logical. your heart fluttered despite the lack of romance in his delivery. “yes, patrick,” you said after a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i would.”

full fic : patrick’s proposal

patrick wasted no time. the next day, he presented you with a ring: an 18k rose gold cartier panthère ring, encrusted with diamond accents.

smutty drabble: jerking him off

pre-nuptial agreements (obviously)

meticulously plans every detail of your engagement and future wedding. the venue must be the right blend of modern elegance and exclusivity, the guest list is capped at “only the most important people,” and the floral arrangements must feature imported orchids flown in from singapore. no compromises.

scrutinized every decision down to the smallest detail: the font on the invitations (garamond, elegant but understated), the centerpiece arrangements (white roses only, no filler flowers), and champagne (dom pérignon, chilled to exactly 45 degrees).

patrick donned a pair of ray-ban wayfarers as the two of you arrived at the reception venue (the pierre hotel), stepping out of the rolls-royce.

your wedding dress was custom-designed at dior’s paris atelier. it was a minimalist masterpiece: a structured bodice with a square neckline, flowing into a clean, floor-length skirt with a cathedral-length train. the fabric was italian silk-mikado with a soft sheen, the epitome of elegance. no lace, no unnecessary frills—patrick deemed them “garish.” the veil was long and simple, edged with the thinnest line of swarovski crystals for just a hint of sparkle.

patrick wore a bespoke zegna tuxedo, black with peak lapels, tailored to absolute perfection. the cuffs of his shirt bore subtle platinum cufflinks engraved with your initials and the wedding date. he spent an obscene amount of time choosing the exact shade of black for the tie.

patrick stole quick glances at you, a flicker of irritation shadowing his eyes at the slight asymmetry of your smile. he stewed in his own perfectionist hell, a seething internal monologue growing increasingly deranged.

the bridal portraits was complete nightmare. after making the photographer redo them six damn times—he still found fault. he had scrutinised the angle of your neck, the curve of your jaw, the flicker of light in your eyes. in his eyes, the photos should’ve been magazine-perfect. anything less was sacrilege!

his vows were an unsettling, almost surreal monologue. a strange, disjointed stream of poetic nihilism, peppered with bizarrely intellectual references. sprinkled in lines from fromm’s the art of loving, twisting them into cryptic confessions that left everyone unsure whether he was being sincere or just… pretentious patrick.

the reception unfolded in an impossibly sleek manhattan venue. a cavernous, glass-walled space filled with patrick’s circle of high-powered cronies, along with stick-thin models who seemed more at ease snorting cocaine in dark corners than nibbling on the overpriced amuse-bouches.

the waitstaff darted around the room, terrified to stumble into discussions about stock portfolios, yacht repairs, or debates over which luxury rehab center had the best cold-press juice cleanse. conversations were a mix of shallow ambition and transactional networking.

the dining experience was an exercise in culinary pretension. dry-aged wagyu steaks with precise marbling, delicate beluga caviar that was more a statement of wealth than taste, and desserts that were too decadent (and high in calories) to exist. everything was paired with wine that cost more than most people’s annual mortgage.

the cake was a towering six-tier masterpiece from sylvia weinstock, adorned with sugar flowers so intricate they looked real. each layer featured a different flavour, from vanilla-bean sponge to passionfruit mousse.

only dom pérignon vintage 1985 was served—patrick had insisted on it. the bottles were presented on silver trays by impeccably dressed waitstaff, with glasses refilled before guests could even think about asking. patrick spent weeks debating between this and krug clos du mesnil but ultimately decided the former “sent the right message.”

during the ceremony, patrick’s bored mind slipped into violent fantasies. he imagined choking out the priest with his necktie and chopping up his groomsmen like sashimi.

despite being invited out of obligation, evelyn didn’t show. patrick hadn’t mentioned her absence until much later, casually remarking, “it was better this way.” he didn’t dwell on her, but jane—his secretary and a guest at the wedding—looked quietly heartbroken for some reason.

dancing was beneath patrick. instead, he lingered by the bar, a martini glass filled with a pristine, artful concoction he hadn’t ordered but took anyway because it fit perfectly in his hand. he’d observed the guests, mentally doing fit checks.

after the night wound down, patrick would lie naked in your hotel suite, staring at the ceiling with an unsettling stillness. his jaw clenched as his thoughts spiraled. not about the wedding itself—that was a calculated performance he’d mastered. no, he was questioning the tie. the damn zegna tie. why hadn’t he gone with the brioni?

insists you accompany him to every social gathering, but not because he wants your company. you’re his accessory, his proof of a successful relationship. he spends the evening flaunting you on his arm, introducing you to people who matter to him (read: people whose opinions validate him), and correcting your behavior if he deems it less than perfect.

his morning routine is sacred, and by extension, you’re expected to have one too. patrick buys you a shelf’s worth of high-end skincare products and insists you use them exactly as prescribed.

takes immense interest in your wardrobe. if something looks even remotely outdated or “cheap,” he’ll whisk you through fifth avenue, steering you toward hermès or dior

has a habit of buying you extravagant gifts after every argument—designer bags, clothes and jewelry. “i thought this might cheer you up,” he says, like he didn’t just shatter your nerves an hour earlier.

morning sex is first thing when you both wake up, right before his meticulously scheduled workout—his body at its peak energy. once finished, he’d kiss your forehead and disappear into the bathroom for his grooming routine.

insists on watching the patty winters show and sit you both in front of the television. you often have no choice but to endure his running commentary.

patrick has a love-hate relationship with grocery shopping. he claims it’s beneath him, but when he goes, he micromanages the process to an extreme degree—reading labels, debating brands, and spending 20 minutes in the imported cheese aisle.

your wedding photos are framed in the living room, carefully arranged in a symmetrical layout. patrick often stares at them as he works out.

his idea of romance sometimes verged on the grotesque. one evening, he decided the two of you should watch the texas chainsaw massacre together. he ends up fucking you into the couch as he enjoys the music.

not the type to be overly vulnerable, but in the privacy of your bedroom, he’d occasionally let down his guard. pillow talk with patrick is a mix of unnervingly sharp observations and random musings. he’ll ramble about the fisher account, dissect music lyrics in great detail, or comment on global events with an eerie detachment.

occasionally, he’d break the stream of words with a sudden, “you’re listening, aren’t you?”

patrick hates surprises—unless they’re from him. when your coworkers once threw you a small birthday party, he was visibly irritated the entire evening. “it was tacky,” he said flatly on the drive home. “you deserve better.”

he got you reservations at dorsia, a perfectly chosen gift (think chanel jewelry or a bvlgari clutch), and a bouquet of flowers with handwritten note that’s short, formal, and oddly impersonal: “to another year of excellence—patrick.”

patrick rarely laughs, but when he does, it’s usually at something dark or absurd. once, you tripped over a stack of magazines he left by the couch and groaned in pain. his response? a sharp, startled laugh, followed by an unconvincing, “…are you okay?”

he adores the opera—not so much for the art but for the prestige it carries. he’ll plan elaborate evenings at the metropolitan opera house, ensuring both of you were impeccably dressed. he wore a brioni tuxedo, while he’d insist on you wearing a custom-made gown from carolina herrera or oscar de la renta.

despite his outward sophistication, his attention drifted from the stage to you. hand resting lightly on your thigh, fingers tracing small circles through the fabric of your dress.

he’s absolutely neurotic about cleanliness. he’ll never leave a glass on the counter without a coaster and can’t stand an unmade bed.

hates clutter and will occasionally “edit” your belongings—quietly throwing out things he deems unnecessary, like old magazines or sentimental knickknacks, without consulting you.

micromanages household tasks. he critiques the way you load the dishwasher, fold laundry, or even stack the fridge. “this is inefficient,” he’ll say, rearranging items while you stand there, biting your tongue.

patrick has an affinity for the ritual of lighting cigars. he’ll let you hold the match for him occasionally, but only if you did it exactly right.

would only agree to a pet under duress, and even then, it would have to be something sleek and purebred. when you suggest something more practical, like a rescue, he’s visibly horrified.

when you finally get the pet, patrick is immediately jealous of the attention you give it. if the cat / dog sits on your lap during movie night, he’ll stare at it with naked dislike. “i don’t understand why you let it do that,”

patrick has an odd relationship with your pet. he’ll complain about it incessantly—“it sheds everywhere,” “it’s always underfoot”—but despite his constant bitching, you’ve caught him talking to the pet on more than one occasion. “she likes you more than me,” he mumbles bitterly. the pet tilts its head, oblivious, which irritates him further. after taking another sip of scotch, he nudges it away with his foot—not enough to hurt it in your presence.

but the true ugliness of patrick’s jealousy comes out when you’re not looking. he’ll straight up kick the poor thing or lock it out from your bedroom.

doesn’t officially cheat, but he indulges in frequent encounters with sex workers—usually in secluded, high-end hotels. these encounters, hidden from you, are his way of dealing with his violent fantasies.

afterwards, he comes back to you, his demeanor completely unaffected. he doesn’t apologize, doesn’t act like anything has changed—because, in his mind, it hasn’t. you’re still his. you always will be.

when he’s bored, he’ll ask you to try on outfits—sometimes just a simple dress, but mostly it’s something risqué. he watches you from the other side of the room with that detached gaze, silently critiquing your appearance. “it’s not quite right,” he’ll say, before giving you another outfit to try on like you’re his personal doll.

full fic : leather & lace

while patrick doesn’t outright admit his dependence on you, it’s clear in the small moments. if you’re gone for too long, he’ll call, his tone petulant as he demands your whereabouts, as though your absence disrupts his routine.

at age 27, patrick doesn’t yet feel the need to rush into parenthood, but there are times, especially while having sex, that he considers the possibility. it’s an idea that briefly excites him, but he quickly dismisses it with a wry smile, preferring the idea of you and him maintaining an image of “perfection” without the messiness of raising a child.

though you’ve never spoken about the future in concrete terms, patrick assumes you’ll always be by his side, forever wrapped in his controlling, perfectionist bubble. he doesn’t see any reason why you’d want to leave; after all, why would you when you have everything?

#patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman fanfic #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x y/n #patrick bateman x you #american psycho #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher fanfic #christian bale #christian bale x reader #slasher fic #slasher fanfiction

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cienna-aesthetics · 2 years ago

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Non-Surgical Facelift

Facial Aging

Aging affects the texture of the skin as well as the shape of the face. While everyone experiences these effects over time, you may notice that certain signs of aging appear more predominantly than others. For instance, some people may notice deep lines and wrinkles whereas other people may experience a loss of volume or sagging skin. Essentially when we talked about facial sagging, we are talking about the triangle of ageing face. The lower face has become heavy and sagged compared to the inverted triangle of youth.

Know More at our Website.

#Pico Laser Singapore #Botox Singapore #Acne Scar Treatment Singapore #Golden Ratio Face Singapore #Hydrafacial Singapore #Thermage Singapore #HIFU Singapore #Nose Filler Singapore #Fillers Singapore

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bellewintersroe · 1 year ago

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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

Max apologises to Leni for his actions prior to that evening. Leni doesn’t think she’s the one Max should be sorry to. Tension ensues. Kinda just a filler chapter.

Part 3, here is the link to part 2. Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow

My eyes lingered over the Dutchman, brows furrowing and stomach churning in a deeper guilt. I was meant to be working, having the lucky of doing it remotely, but a certain Max Verstappen was distracting me. It was quiet in the room that I sat in, that’s why I chose to sit there. I would be flying back to Monaco soon, a place that was starting to become my second home, before heading to Singapore for the race there. In the meantime, I wanted to spend time with my dad whilst I could, even if that meant working alongside him. “What’re you up to, Len?” He walked over, causing my trance on Max to fade. “Really boring documents.” I spun the laptop, sighing out with each work.

“Fun, why don’t you give it a rest and come look at the cars?”

“No, you’re a terrible influence!” I teased seeing him smirk in amusement. “I don’t even know what that stuff is, graphs? What for?”

“Comparing the growth over time of each client- ah, it’s not exciting.” I pulled my laptop back. “I have to get it done by 5 so..”

“Well if you fancy a break there’s some RB19’s that want looking at.” His brows perked, clearly confused as he scanned my work. Some of it was in French, due to the office being based in Monaco. I had to go in once a month or so for meetings, apart from that I’d bagged the most flexible career in scientific studies ever. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, my brains were there for it, but I had the tendency to get bored very easily.

“Okay, cool.” I muttered, getting back to my work.

During lunch, the area I was in got thankfully very quiet, that was apart from a certain Max Verstappen checking out his and Checo’s cars, analysing his test performances.

I felt a little awkward to call out to him, especially after what happened in the Uber. Even thinking about it made my cheeks warm yet my chest simultaneously drop from guilt. I would say mixed feelings, but the guilt clouded over anything else I felt towards Max. Even if I allowed myself for a second to day dream about him, the shame would creep up on me like no other.

I glanced up to him for a second, noticing he was glimpsing in my direction, he fiddled with his cap awkwardly and I felt my heart accelerate instantly.

“Everything alright, Max?” I broke the silence, thank god. It was becoming too much to bare. I acted focused on my laptop, but in reality I wasn’t reading a single word on that screen.

“Yeah.” He quickly spoke. “Are you?” His hand ran through his hair, messing it about slightly. He looked good like that, all dishevelled. He’d allowed his facial hair to grow out even more, not messy, just manly. I took a look of him up and down in his gym wear.

“Yeah, just working.” I shrugged. “Listen..” he suddenly spoke, making his way over as my eyes were now glued to the blonde man walking nearer. “Listen?” I had to play naive to what he was about to say, maybe I should act like I didn’t remember anything? Pretend it didn’t happen completely?

“I’m sorry for the other night, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.” He came over to the table I was sat. Uncomfortable? Why would he make me feel uncomfortable when I was the one who probably started out with these feelings in the first place?!

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” My laptop was pushed aside now as I stared back to him from the other end of the table. He wasn’t so good at eye contact, not when he was shy. I always thought he didn’t like me growing up, but in reality he was just an awkward, teenaged boy. Max nodded along. “You know you’d never make me uncomfortable.” I reassured. “Okay, good, I just got a bit worried-” “No don’t be.” I quickly spoke. “It’s just-” Max’s eyes were on me now, the blue reflecting against the sun making them seem brighter than usual. It took me a moment to actually get my words out, Max could look a little intimidating at times, and right now he did. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” He immediately rubbed over his face. “She went home, I never saw her.”

“Flew home?”

“Flew home.” Max nodded as I exhaled. “Jesus.”

“It’s my fault but now it makes it harder to… you know.” I cringed at his words. “Harder to what? Break up?” The question fell out my mouth, sounding a little harsher than it intended to.

“Do you wanna grab some food, you know, with your dad?” He very quickly changed the topic as I frowned a little.

“No, I’m good.” The two of us were staring back to one another, as though we were about to engage in some weird confrontation. I didn’t like it. It felt tense, and it never felt like this between us. Max nodded, and went to turn around awkwardly.

“Let’s just… like try to forget anything happened. Like forget you told me anything in the first place.”

“Leni, you know that won’t work..” “Whatever tried happened the other night won’t work.”

“Leni…”

“Max, I’m serious. I don’t want to know anything else about you and Kelly, I feel bad for her.” I got a little carried away as Max blinked back to me. He looked shocked, even I was shocked.

“Okay.” He seemed to perk after a minute or so. “I was drunk you know, sorry for opening up to a friend.” I let out a deep sigh at his words, watching him fully walking away now. I didn’t have it in me to say anything else, it was painfully uncomfortable in the room after that, the conversation remained heavy on my mind and you best believe I left there as soon as I possibly could.

I was walking out of the training grounds, bag full of all my work stuff as I struggled in the intense, Italian heat.

“Leeeeennnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A very dramatic call out of my name was the only thing persuading me to to turn back around.

“Oh, Lando!” I giggled out in amusement. The Brit jogged his way over, enveloping me in a quick hug. “How are you?” He questioned.

“Good, too fucking warm, but good- how about you?”

“I’m great, think I bagged myself a date for tonight.” He grinned. “Oh really? Who with?”

“Really attractive Italian girl, she’s called Mila. Look, I have pictures.” Lando pulled out his phone as I momentarily glanced up, only to see Max walking past with the same confused expression I had. I instantly looked away.

“Look, this is her…” he swiped through the pictures of the beautiful girl. “Wait, stop swiping so fast!” I laughed. “I’d pay to see your conversations with her. I hope you haven’t used anymore of those pick up lines.” I looked back up to Lando whose eyes roamed towards Max slightly.

“Oh is Max, hello!!” He waved out. Max gave out a kinda pathetic wave and half a smile with a quick greeting back before he headed off to the car.

“Well he seems happy, anyway, she…” Lando right, in a sarcastic sense. Max looked moody as hell, his jaw was tensed, even his walk was tensed. I hoped desperately I wasn’t the cause for that, and a slight panic washed over me at the thought of me causing that. Maybe I snapped a little earlier at him. Was I too blunt? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings… Fuck, my stomach was in knots, and when his car drove past, it really dawned on me how strong my feelings were for him. “She wears all these like Prada things, I think they’re fake but- are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry Lando, keep going…” I was in fact not listening.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader

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beautyoflilies · 4 months ago

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Aegyosal

What is it?

If you’re familiar with Korean beauty trends, you may have heard of the term “Aegyo sal” popping up in recent years. The term “Aegyo sal” roughly translates to “cute skin bags” in English and refers to the small puffs of under-eye fat, which is said to accentuate the eyes and add to a more youthful appearance.

Origin

Natural Aegyo sal aren’t the eyebags you get from a lack of sleep, but rather the under-eye fullness that is often seen in the lower eyelids of newborns and younger age groups; hence, they’re associated with youthfulness and innocence. They also tend to puff up, even in adults, when they smile, associating aegyosal with cheer and friendliness.

Problems?

Amidst this beauty phenomenon, a discussion on gender ideals and biases emerges. The widespread desire for an infantile appearance, often amplified through media and entertainment, mirrors a historic desire to appear infantile, innocent, and perhaps thus pure under the male gaze. This trend may also be reflective of "Aegyo,” a behavior centered around acting cute, which could be similarly tied to perpetuating and embodying the gender norms of female “purity” within a normalized gender order.

Today

The trend of aegyosal made a comeback largely due to the Korean entertainment industry, where celebrities, such as the soloist IU, Jungkook from BTS, and Joy from Red Velvet, with aegyosal were considered to have fresh and sweet charm. The desire in Korean beauty for a youthful and innocent appearance, as well as the larger beauty trend of “plump” skin called “gwang,” also fuelled the popularity of aegyosal.

Cosmetics

This has led to the rise of aegyosal surgery and fillers in younger generations, cosmetic procedures that use fat grafts, implants, or hyaluronic acid fillers to create a sausage roll shape like the aegyosal. In more recent years, it has spread to several other Asian countries, such as Singapore and China, and has begun to incorporate itself into their cultural beauty standards.

A Less Invasive Solution

While surgery and filler remain popular in Korea, a much more risk-free, convenient, and cost-friendly way to accentuate the aegyosal has arisen. By using makeup, concealer, highlighter, and strategically placed eyeshadow – even the invention of specific “aegyosal pens” in recent years – individuals can enhance their under-eye area, giving the impression of bigger, puppy-dog eyes without going under the knife.

#beauty #cosmetics #makeup #aegyosal #kbeauty

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mieeiraa · 9 months ago

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Performance Art with New Media Technology [ASSIGNMENT 1]

For this assignment, I was tasked to do a case study on international and local artists who incorporated the use of new media technology with their performances. From these artists and their chosen work/performance, we can observe how the technology used improves the performance and how they can be improved in the future.

International artist chosen: PLAVE

PLAVE is a five-member virtual idol group operating under a virtual entertainment company, VLAST.

They are known for using game engines and motion capture technology to track each member's gestures and facial expressions, similar to the concept of virtual YouTubers or Vtubers in short.

On March 12, 2023, PLAVE made their official debut. Focusing on music production in the Korean pop or K-pop music industry, they periodically release music albums and singles just like any other idol group.

Performance chosen: Hello, Asterum!

The concert took place over two days, 13th - 14th April 2024 with the first day being a fully physical performance and the second day being an online performance that was simultaneously aired live online for international viewers.

Domestic fans in South Korea were able to purchase tickets to enter the concert venue during the performance day. Meanwhile international fans were given the option to purchase online tickets for the online streaming scheduled for the second day via Weverse, an entertainment platform originated from South Korea.

They performed live on both days as seen by the clear discrepancies when comparing the two performances side by side, with the pre-recorded videos or VCR being filler segments played in between singing performances.

Technology used:

Motion capture

3D Assets

LED Screens

Stage special effects (pyrotechnics, smoke and haze machines, confetti and streamers, bubbles, drones)

Sound system

Local artist chosen: Abdul Shakir

Known by his stage name "Grasshopper," Abdul Shakir is a multidisciplinary multimedia artist and one of the co-founders of Filamen, a company that specializes in interactive installations, light installations, and projection mapping.

He has experience working in production and post-production agencies and has completed a range of design and art-related projects, including interactive installations, motion graphics, graphic design, and projection mapping.

His projects have transcended Malaysia and are now being shown in China, Hong Kong, Spain, and the United States of America. He has shown his art in a number of prestigious exhibitions, including the George Town Festival, Rainforest in the City, Urbanscapes Art Festival, and LAMPU Festival.

Work chosen: Rimbun

“Rimbun” was showcased during the Singapore Night Festival exhibition back in 2023. This work is basically a form of organic projection where he experiments with the mapping process on living things, including trees and leaves.

For this exhibition, it is focused on projection mapping of cultural Malay designs personally created by Abdul Shakir himself on plant leaves of different plants during the night time.

Featuring seven distinct motifs inspired by plants like Starfruit, Nutmeg, Common Fig, Jujube, Sugarcane, Citron, Cocoa, and Guava, these motifs reflect his personal interpretation of these plants and their significance during Singapore's role as an entrepôt between east and west.

Technology used:

Projector

PC computer

Rendered plant motifs via TouchDesigner

How does New Media Technology Improve the Concept and Stage Performance?

From the implementation of new media technology in performances which are the usage of motion capture technology and projection mapping, they offer the possibility to enhance their storytelling and visual graphics as a whole for a more enjoyable experience.

Visual elements prepared using computer graphics, not limited to pictures and videos but including various multimedia elements such as motion capture and projection mapping allow performers to creatively express themselves and their artworks while being able to captivate the audience.

For example, in “Hello, Asterum!” PLAVE and VLAST were able to utilize the visuals in 3D space effectively, resulting in their performance to look like a projection of a hologram while they were in fact only using a flat screen.

Another instance is the ability to manipulate the space to fit each member’s solo performance, creating environments that fit the genre of the songs being performed.

Being able to manipulate 3D space with their virtual models allows PLAVE to showcase an alluring and captivating stage performance in real time, suitable with their concept of being virtual idols.

As for the idea of organic projection mapping as seen in “Rimbun”, I would say that it promotes the idea of seeing mundane things in our lives in a new light.

As Abdul Shakir mentioned that the patterns and motifs being projected were inspired by plants, it shows a connection shared between the man-made motifs and the plants being associated with, subtly showing the beauty and inspiration from nature.

In my opinion, it is a unique way to show how one element may be related to the other and a great medium for an entrancing storytelling since the audience will need to approach the installation in order to fully immerse themselves with the artwork.

How can it be innovative in the future?

Simply put, stage performance visuals are no longer limited to 2D space as they can be manipulated to be shown as 3D regardless of the projecting medium.

Organic projection can introduce a new method to showcase one’s creativity in storytelling, ensuring that the message conveyed can be understood.

Synchronized light projections via light sticks held by the audience in a large crowd may increase the immersion and elevate the experience during a stage performance.

Conclusion

As technology advances further with time, we can expect to see more implementation of new media technology in future performances.

Taking the opportunity to include and utilize them in stage performances especially may help to increase immersion for the audience and deliver a comprehensive and meaningful performance.

Hopefully, with new media technology, artists and performers are able to experiment with their creative freedom and in the end, bring forward inspiring and innovative works of art for us to understand and appreciate.

#Real time expression

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