#even if it is again - want this loud and fucking clear that i'm not ignoring this element - a shallow disney cash grab

[vivalasthedas]

I was gonna make a crack about how disney dreamlight valley lets you be ruder to npcs than veilguard

but then i actually progressed a story mission and my characters forgotten is just Spite

and it turns out his big bag plan is to tear down a veil between the otherside and dreamlight valley so like

[venusdews]

SERVE!

caleb [夏以昼] + female reader + zayne [黎深]

synopsis. who were the cute boys watching your tennis match today? you planned to find out.

genre & contents. 18+! MDNI! tennis player!zayne, tennis player!caleb, tennis player!reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (giving), cumshot, unprotected p in v, nipple play, soft dom!caleb, soft sub!zayne, nasty 3some, pull out, slapping, fingering, slight dirty talk, a lil mxm if you squint, what else to say… wc; 4.5k+

author's note. this came from me listening to the challengers soundtrack… i have no excuse i just wanted to write a smutty zayne and caleb fic (even though this just kept getting longer the more i revised) … enjoy <3

“Holy shit.”

The two men had been sitting on the bleachers for almost two hours, completely enthralled by the girl who was on the tennis court. They really had only intended to pass by after training, maybe stay for a few plays.

It was hard to ignore the whispers throughout Linkon Tennis Club, of a girl who was only on a path to surpass everyone here. Of course, they had been curious to see who she was, maybe skeptical of all the talk surrounding her. But nothing compared to watching her up close.

She was unrelenting, hard-hitting and implacable.

Even as her opponent continued to fall far behind in points, she showed no signs of backing down. It was only until the last set that she let their serve fall on her side, not even attempting to hit the ball with her racket. As if she wanted to taunt him. 

It’s only then that they take note of the man stomping off the court, someone who up until now, had been considered undefeated in their club.

Caleb swears he sees a smirk appear on her face as she walks off the court.

“That was…” Zayne starts, but it seems he’s unable to find the words to describe what he’s feeling right now.

“Fucking hot.” Caleb finishes, eyes still locked onto the girl as she uses a towel to wipe her glistening skin.

Zayne clears his throat, standing up suddenly as if snapping out of a trance. Up until then, he had been unaware of the setting sun. “We need to go.” 

Caleb doesn’t notice he’s walking down the bleachers until the girl is out of sight. He grabs his bag, almost stumbling down the steps as he catches up to Zayne.

He whistles lowly.

“You ever see anyone play like that?” Caleb brings his hand under his chin, unable to shake the image of her on the court. Or, unable to shake the image of her completely. He wanted to know more about her. No, needed.

“No.” It was true. Zayne found himself adjusting his shirt collar nervously. Suddenly the heat of the sun was heavy on his skin. He wouldn’t admit that watching her play like that was enough to have an effect on him.

“You think she’s coming to the party tonight?” Caleb ponders out loud, more to himself. He finds himself hoping to catch sight of her again as they exit the court and enter the parking lot, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Why does it matter?” Zayne responds, tossing his bag onto the top of his car's hood, searching for his keys.

Caleb leans onto the hood, hands coming up under his chin as he eyes Zayne. “Maybe because that was one of the best matches I’ve ever seen, and it wasn’t even a serious one. You’re not just a little curious to see what she’s like?”

Zayne fishes his keys out, pointing his gaze at Caleb’s puppy eyes. “Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that you find her attractive?”

“Do you not?” Caleb takes note of the way Zayne avoids his question.

Zayne looks away, unlocking his car door and throwing his bag to the backseat.

“At least I'm not afraid to admit when I like a woman…” Caleb mumbles, hoping it's low enough that Zayne doesn't hear.

He does.

And he locks the car just as Caleb tries to open the passenger door.

He bangs his hand against the window, and Zayne can’t deny he finds his pouting a bit amusing. 

“Zayne!”

He plasters his face against the window. “Open the door?” 

Zayne pretends to not hear him, turning the car’s ignition on.

“Please?”

The doors unlock, a shit eating grin spreading onto Caleb’s face.

“Someone can’t get enough of you.”

Your friend Tara is giggling as she hands you a towel. You take it, wiping your face but not before rolling your eyes.

You knew exactly who she was talking about. It wasn’t unusual for you to gain a bit of an audience when you played, even if it was just a match for fun like this one. But those two had showed up early and stayed throughout the whole thing.

Watching you. And only you.

It was hard to ignore the way their eyes watched your every move.

“They’re not exactly trying to hide it,” you quip, a bit harsh. But maybe you didn’t want to admit the effect the two very attractive men had on you.

Tara seems to see right through you, a coy smile on her face as she throws you a water bottle.

You chug it, ignoring her as you gather your things, tossing your bag over your shoulder. She walks alongside you as you exit the court.

“You know, they’ll probably be at the party tonight.” she sing-songs, skipping to catch up to your brisk pace. You were desperate for a cold shower and your bed.

“Good for them,” she rolls her eyes at your feigned nonchalance. You use both of your hands to scour your bag, scowling when you come up empty handed.

Tara clears her throat and you look up, narrowing your eyes at her. She dangles your keys in front of you, the tiny tennis racquet clinking.

As you reach out to take them, she pulls back. “Tell me you’re going tonight…”

“I can’t. I have practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes at the weak excuse. She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’.

“I vividly recall you promising me this would be your one night out.” 

You do remember. A promise that came from being tired from practice and Tara continuously pestering you about it. You’d argue it was more like she forced you until you said yes.

Tara twirls the keys around her finger, “I’ll stand here all day…”

Despite her playful tone, you knew better than anyone she would definitely stay here until you said yes. Your mind drifts back to the two boys sitting at the bleachers, the way you might have intentionally played up your skills. The way you felt your body heat rise, not just from your running back and forth.

This was not the first time you had seen them around. A glance of them on the courts, in the dining hall, at tournaments. The two were joined at the hip. It seemed as though they were always together. Practicing together, walking together, hell, they probably slept together.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a tiny bit curious to know more about them.

With a resigned sigh, “Fine,” you say, and her face looks as if she was just handed a brand new puppy. “But I'm taking clothes out of your closet.”

She throws you the keys, already on a tangent about what alcohol to pregame with. But as you enter your car and drive off, there’s only one thought on your mind.

You would make it your mission to get to know them tonight.

To no one’s surprise, Caleb is able to drag Zayne out to the party. He hated coming to any type of social gathering, but maybe the possibility of catching a glimpse of you was enough to get him out the door this time.

Zayne is embarrassed to admit how many times he changed his shirt.

They’re leaning against one the tables, beers in hand as they lazily watch the partygoers. The night was warm, a dampness kissing their skin. As entertaining as watching their drunk tennis club fall onto the grass was, they were really only here for one reason.

You.

However, as the night sky continued to darken, their hopes of seeing you began to diminish with the setting sun.

One beer turns into two, three, four, until their table is littered with empty bottles. Their faces were flushed, and the stars seemed a bit brighter now. Caleb has a permanent pout on his face, gaze on the beer cap he was flipping in between his fingers.

It was unlike him to be so affected by anyone, much less a stranger. He was a bit of a playboy back in the early days of his tennis career, a womanizer as Zayne would call him. Though it was far behind him, now, it was a bit humiliating for him to be so bent over a girl.

Zayne, on the other hand, stayed back for the most part. Not that he didn’t have many opportunities, trust that he had many. But Zayne was never one for no strings attached hookups. A hopeless romantic, Caleb would say to tease him. Though, he had no shame in his beliefs around love.

It was no wonder why he was so infatuated by you.

There’s an eruption of cheers from where people have made a makeshift dance floor, and Caleb lazily turns. His head shoots up, body turning at whiplash speed, causing a few bottles to fall to the ground.

“Hey—!”

Zayne furrows his brows, looking at Caleb for an explanation to his sudden movements. His eyes are wide, unblinking as if he’s afraid to miss whatever he’s watching.

He follows his gaze, and it lands on you.

In the middle of the crowd, there you are, dancing without a care in the world.

They stare dumbfoundedly at your figure, clad in a mini skirt and strappy top. You turn towards them, undoubtedly staring at both of them. Your eyes dart between them, an inviting smile on your face. Maybe the alcohol was making them hallucinate.

Zayne flushes, looking to the side and clearing his throat.

Without a second to think, Caleb is standing up and walking towards you.

“Caleb!” but it’s futile. All Zayne can do is standby and watch as Caleb works his infuriating charm on you, hands coming to sit on your waist with ease.

He hates to admit it, but somewhere in his heart he feels a twinge of envy.

The party is in full swing when you arrive. 

You're surprised to see how crowded it is, almost everyone from the tennis club was here and then some. Almost as soon as you arrive, Tara pulls you to the dance floor (that was more just a patch of shorter grass closer to the music). 

You can’t help the way your eyes scan the room, searching for those two inseparable figures. 

As you let the alcohol flow through your veins, dancing to the music, you find exactly who you’re looking for. 

Sitting perfectly in your line of sight, is the brown haired boy who couldn't keep his eyes off of you earlier. Even now, he’s staring straight at you, and you don't even try to hide the shiver it sends down your spine.

Next to him is his inseparable half, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyes say everything you can’t. An invitation. 

A fishing line thrown into the water.

The brown haired man is up before you can process, making a beeline for you.

“Hey,” he says, unabashedly checking you out with his iris colored eyes. You tilt your head, smiling. 

“I’m Caleb.”

“Hi, Caleb.”

The fish bites, you pull back.

You hold out your hand as an offer. An offer for what, you weren’t so sure yourself.

But he takes it, with almost no hesitation.

You guide his hand to your waist, letting him take control. He sways with you, following the beat of the music effortlessly. When he asks for your name, you tell him with a bite of your lip.

It was unlike you to be so forward, but there was no refusing it now.

You wanted him tonight, badly.

“I saw you playing today,” he leans down to say it, eyes hovering over your ear. The feeling makes you hot, not just from the lingering heat of the night.

“I know,” you breathe “I saw you, too.”

Caleb smirks, eyes lighting with a fire. “You’re amazing.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes. While you (usually) were not one to brag, it was something you were used to hearing. Hearing him say it, though, had a different type of effect on you.

You turn around, grinding against him as the music becomes more sensual. His hands grip your waist, and you swear you hear a low grunt. This was definitely having as much affect as it was on you. Your arms come around his neck.

“Who’s your friend?” You can’t help but ask as you eye the almost sulking man who was still at the table.

You see the way he’s eyeing you, a type of intensity you couldn’t describe. 

Tall, dark hair, chiseled features, and carrying an air of aloofness.

God, he was sexy too.

“Zayne?” he questions, a bit strained but you choose to ignore it. The man rocking his hips behind you, the one in front practically eye-fucking you, it was too much to handle.

Zayne and Caleb.

Was it crazy to want them both?

You twirl to face Caleb, not surprised to see his eyes have darkened into a deep hue of purple. It only encourages you further. “Why don’t we go back to your place?”

It’s bold, you’re well aware. It makes his eyes widen for a second, before a smug smirk appears on his face.

“Your friend’s invited too.”

Zayne and Caleb are very still. 

With bated breath, afraid to make any sudden movements.

The walk to their apartment was a blur, filled with gentle caresses and prying eyes. Caleb was almost seeing stars from the anticipation of getting to have you so close. Though, they were both unsure of what to expect, even through their beer-induced haze.

Sitting across from you, in their shared apartment, they were feeling completely sober now. 

They watch you carefully as your hand comes down to the beer bottle in the middle, using your fingers to spin it. Yeah, it might have been a juvenile game, but you seemed to have something up your sleeve when you suggested it.

And who were they to deny the girl that had them wrapped around her fingers?

Their eyes are glued to the spinning bottle as it slows down, landing…

Right in between Zayne and Caleb.

Their heads whip up to face you, and there’s a sly smile growing onto your face. You stand from the floor, walking to the couch behind you.

You plant yourself in the middle, leaning back on the palms of your hands.

“Come here,” you beckon with a jerk of your head.

Their eyes go wide, and Caleb glances at Zayne, whose face is impossibly red.

“Which one—?” Zayne starts, but Caleb is scrambling off the floor to sit next to you. As if a switch is flipped, he stumbles to follow, sitting on your left.

The air is still, the music that had been playing from somewhere in the room fading into the background. You lean your head back, biting your lip as your eyes dart between them both.

“Kiss me.”

The universe was surely on your side tonight. 

That was the only explanation for the position you were in.

You’re sandwiched by both men, and your biggest problem right now is choosing who to look at.

Two gorgeous, panty-dropping men, in the palm of your hands.

Two men who were staring at you like they wanted to devour you whole.

Caleb bites first, hand coming up to hold your face. His grip is firm, unwilling to let your gaze wander elsewhere. “Are you sure about this, baby?”

The pet name comes out too easily, but it makes you lean into him. You stare into his eyes, unyielding.

“Yes.”

“Both… of us?” Zayne asks, voice low.

“Yes.”

It’s firm. 

And it's all Caleb needs to crash his lips into yours. Behind you, Zayne’s hands wander up your thighs, slipping under your skirt as he attacks your neck, leaving a trail of saliva as he sloppily sucks on your skin.

You moan softly, and the sound makes Caleb's grip on your jaw tighten. He’s shoving his tongue down your throat, uncaring of the way you struggle to breathe.

He relents, letting go of your face. You turn to Zayne, whose face is flushed a sweet pink. He looks completely undone, and you haven’t even touched him. You work to unbutton his shirt, trailing kisses on his deliciously taut chest. As soon as it's off, you trail up his jaw until your tongue is slipping past his lips.

He kisses slowly, gentle with intention. Zayne lets you take the lead, and your nails trail over his exposed biceps. Tiny crescent moons bloom as your nails dig into his skin. He deepens the kiss.

There’s a smack on your ass, and you pull away to face Caleb once again.

“C’mere,” it's a demand. You crawl onto his lap facing away from the couch, back pressed tightly against his clothes chest. Zayne stands, moving to position himself in front of you. From here, you have a perfect view of the prominent erection growing under his shorts.

Caleb pulls your top off in one swift motion and you gasp as your nipples hit the air. His fingers brush over them, teasing and pulling before they trail down. Your skirt is pushed up past your hips, pink lace panties on full display for both of them.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans as his fingers hover over your clothed pussy. “I can feel how wet you are already. I’ve barely even touched you.”

You whine, throwing your head back onto his shoulders. Zayne is watching you through heavy lidded eyes, palming his cock. As sexy as he looked like this, you wanted to put your hands all over him.

“Let me help you,” you stare up at him through your lashes. 

Zayne walks closer, watching your fingers make work of his waistband. You almost gasp when you pull his cock out, flushed a bright red and dripping at the tip. It was big, to say the least. You wondered how much of it could fit in your mouth.

Caleb’s slender fingers slip into your slick folds and you whine, hand faltering on Zayne’s length. It earns you a slap on your thigh.

“Don’t leave him waiting, baby,” his voice is low, and you'd give anything to be able to see his face right now. “Show him what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words are enough to bring your mouth to Zayne’s tip. You slip him into your mouth, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. He throws his head back, groaning as his hand comes up to grip the back of your head.

He wasn’t even in all the way.

Your skin is hot to the touch, cunt dripping as Caleb continues to work you expertly. Moaning around his cock, you can’t keep your eyes off Zayne’s face twisted in pleasure. It was obvious he was attempting to hold back his noises, lips held tightly under his teeth. 

It only makes you want to hear him more, so you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his length. With every stroke, his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“Oh, fuck,” Zayne groans as he brings his other hand to your head, hips sloppily thrusting against your mouth. His whimpers are like angels singing. Spit is dripping out of your mouth, your eyes are welling with tears, but you don’t care. How could you deny him such pleasure?

Caleb slips another finger in you, stretching your pussy with every hit against your walls. You moan as his other hand comes to pinch your nipple. 

“Mm, baby,” you grind into his hand, feeling his hard cock against your ass. His breath is heavy against your ear. His fingers seem to know exactly what spots to hit, your unending moans muffled around Zayne's length.

“You feel so good around me.” Your sounds get higher, walls squelching against Caleb’s fingers. That familiar feeling starts to pool at your belly, and he knows you're close.

“You gonna cum for me?” His voice is gruff, laced with desire as he works to push you over the edge. The coil tightens, but you make sure to keep Zayne’s cock in your mouth. 

“Mmmph!” you whine as you feel your liquid fight against Caleb’s fingers, soaking them completely. His eyes are blown wide as he watches your fluids shoot out of your pulsing hole.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers softly, taking his glistening fingers out and bringing them to his face. He can’t help himself, putting them into his mouth. Your taste almost makes him combust right then and there.

“Alright,” he says, looking at Zayne’s disheveled appearance with a smug smirk. “Let me have a turn, baby.”

With a pop! Zayne slips out of your mouth. Caleb stands, pulling you with him. He twirls you to face him now. His hand comes to your ass, slapping it hard enough to leave a mark. You moan, chasing his lips.

He lets you catch him, a gentle kiss compared to the way he just defiled your pussy.

“Bend over,” he says, and you do.

Zayne’s hands come to your waist, holding you in place. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation as you watch Caleb get rid of the clothing covering his hard cock.

And of course, he’s big.

Big and thick.

Enough to stretch your mouth completely.

Caleb slaps his cock against your cheek as he looks at Zayne.

“Why don’t you stretch her out a little more for me?”

The grin on his face says it all as he watches Zayne align himself with your wet cunt. You sigh, feeling his tip gliding against your lips before he slowly opens you wide. The fit is incredibly tight, and you can feel every single inch of his length as he slowly slides in.

Zayne is putty in your hands. The way you’re tightening around him is almost enough to drive him over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips.

Caleb brings his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up. He glides his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs softly, bringing his tip to your lips.

“Go on, baby.”

That’s enough for the both of you.

Zayne brings his hips back, tip just at the entrance before he slams back into you.

You take Caleb into your salivating mouth, until your nose almost hits his skin. With every thrust against your walls, you slide your mouth up and down Caleb’s throbbing cock.

Your moans mix together sweetly, breaths mingling with the hot bedroom air. They’re unrelenting against your gaping holes, and you can feel the sweat dripping from their bodies onto you. A sheen layer of sweat covers them, almost glowing under the low light.

You’re a mess, moaning around Caleb’s cock as he uses your mouth to pleasure himself. 

Zayne’s head is spinning, drunk off the way your pussy felt around him. His hand comes up to pull your hair back, admiring the way your back arches. Every bounce of your ass against him got him closer and closer to the edge.

God, he was insatiable. 

Caleb was no better, unable to keep his eyes off your pretty face. Cheeks hollow, taking him so fucking well. He couldn’t believe how he had you. He was desperate to carve every line and curve of your figure into his mind, afraid that if he blinks you’ll disappear.

He hoped when morning came he’d still be able to see you.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans, “I’m so fucking close.”

He looks over to Zayne, taking in the pink hue that trailed from his cheeks to his ears. His brows were furrowed, tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth.

Yeah, he was definitely close, too.

“Can I cum on that pretty face, baby?” you moan, trying to nod your head against his merciless throat-fucking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” is all you can muster.

Zayne’s hip thrusts were getting sloppier, and you tightened around him, wanting to make sure he came too.

Something about being completely covered in their seed made you lose all sense of self.

Caleb grunts as he pulls out of your mouth, spurts of cum shooting onto your face, dripping down your cheek. You stick your tongue out, hoping to catch some to taste.

Zayne follows soon after, pulling out of you to cum on your back. It’s warm, endless globs of his cum enveloping your back, falling down your waist. He pumps his cock gently, making sure to leave every last drop to you.

He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on the small of your back.

Their chests are still rapidly rising and descending as they try to catch their breath. In the post orgasm clarity, you can’t help but laugh at your situation.

Never did you think you would have ended up here tonight.

Though, you definitely weren’t complaining.

Caleb falls onto the couch, gaze still on you as he chuckles breathlessly. A mixture of disbelief and incredulousness on his face.

“Stay there,” You hear Zayne move behind you, walking into the bathroom and turning the faucet on. He comes back, gently holding you as he brings a wet towel to your skin. You gasp softly at the sudden contact, but you let him wipe your back down.

The gesture almost makes your heart swell.

Caleb looks at you with indiscernible emotions swimming in his eyes. He takes the towel from Zayne, wiping at your face with the most sedulous care. It’s so sweet, the way they handle you. You’d never think they’d be capable of all the sinful things you just witnessed.

Trying to ignore the way your face heats up as Caleb holds your face, you look away from his soft puppy eyes.

You stand up straight, slipping your skirt and ruined panties. With a flirtatious smile, you start walking to the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Feel free to join me.”

Caleb and Zayne look at each other before scrambling to follow behind.

You awake to two pairs of arms enveloping you, the first signs of dawn peeking through the window. It takes all your energy to quietly slip out of their grip. The two men are too deep in their dreams to notice as you collect your scattered clothes.

You sigh as you hold the skirt Tara let you borrow in front of you. It was ruined completely. She was definitely going to kill you. And maybe congratulate you after she hears of your night.

Clad in a too-big Linkon Tennis Club hoodie and sweats, you’re about to slip out of the room when you look back to the bed.

Gorgeous, even with their tousled hair and soft snores.

Gently, closing the door, you fish your forgotten phone out of your purse. You glance at the time as you walk down the hallway, sighing when you realize you had enough time to make it to practice.

Hopefully they’d come to your next match.

[bluepurplepinklock]

"You know I care..."

Itoshi Rin x reader, where you distance yourself from him thinking he has no interest in you, only for him to come running to you.

Rin didn't care. It pained you to accept that, but he really didn't care.

You were always there with him- talking, laughing, teasing and enjoying every moment. But when you realised how he never initiated any of it, you questioned yourself.

Do you annoy him? Is he really not interested? If you somehow disappear, would he even notice?

Given his resting bitch face, irritated eye rolls and annoyed sighs, the answer was clear. And so, you decided with a heavy heart that in order to preserve the little self respect you had left, you will do what is most logical- start distancing yourself from him.

As much as it hurt to not be around him, it was the best course of action to prevent your heart from loving him more only to be told he could never love you back.

You thought Rin wouldn't even notice your absence. The way you no longer attended his matches, or wait for him after class, or walked home with him, or sent him memes in the middle of the night, or steal every second to just be with him a little longer.

You thought he wouldn't bother, you were almost convinced he didn't- until he grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from your group of friends in the corridor.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, pulling you towards the lockers. His eyes bore deep into yours, like he might find the answer swirling behind your startled eyes if he stared intently.

"What?" you blink, taken aback.

"Don't act dumb," he spat, restlessly tapping his finger against his crossed arms, "why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not," you shrug, trying your best to be nonchalant.

"Don't fuck with me, y/n" he breathed, his sharp gaze pinning you to your spot.

After picking through your words, trying your best not to show your own desperation to just give up on distancing and latch onto him again, you speak, "Stop acting like you care."

Rin's eyes widened, pure unfiltered confusion plastering his face. He blinked a couple times before clutching his head, "Gosh, what's wrong with you."

"Nothing," you shrug, sounding as confident as ever, "you know you never cared, so let me be. Besides, you must be delighted I stopped clinging onto you, annoying you to no ends."

You pivot on your heels, walking away until Rin's strong grasp holds you back and before you know it, he has you pinned against the locker.

His palms plant on either side of your head, into the locker behind. Rin's cold eyes stare right into yours, a blend of hurt and silent rage boiling in their depths, as his lips hover inches away from yours.

"Stop," his voice cracked and you felt his hot breath on your lips, "stop putting words in my mouth. I might have never said it out loud, but you know I care."

You gulp as heat rises to your cheeks when you feel his knee between your legs. He inches closer every second, caging you in yet still giving you enough time to break out if you want.

But you don't. You shove your plans of distancing yourself away because right now, all you want is to be impossibly close to this man.

Rin's lips press against yours, hot and impatient, and you totally give in to the desire in your heart. You drape your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he envelopes you in his arms.

When you break apart, you are shocked to find his eyes damp with the slightest hint of tears.

Rin knew his cold exterior costs him too much. But the moment he felt it would cost him losing you, he couldn't help but smack himself in the head and reach out to you. You knew it. All of it. Just by looking into his wet eyes, the fear of losing you still lingering in them, you knew.

"Don't ever think of leaving me again," he whispered against your lips before capturing them into a kiss once again.

©bluepurplepinklock (Do not copy, steal or translate my work)

[poguehearted77]

After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

-

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

[velarisnightsky444]

Patience*

Kinktober Day 1: Cockwarming With Azriel

AN: Sneak peak for Stargirl. Evelina is my OC, she is Rhysand's twin sister.

CW: Cockwarming, d/s dynamics, intercourse, impact play

Word Count: 1.2k

October Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

I could be particularly impatient when my mate was working, since his job took up a large portion of the day. I could get pouty and annoyed, which I didn't deny. Though, Az wasn't fond of me like that.

Ever since we were children, he would scold me for my incessant whining, no matter what the cause.

So I would go to his office and pout and whine until I pissed him off enough to pay attention to me, forgetting his work.

It was immature, yes. But it worked.

I stood in his doorway now, staring at him as he did his paperwork. He hadn't even glanced up at me, yet.

His hazel eyes were glued to the paperwork before him, his scarred hand gripped his pen tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

His black locks fell over his face, shielding his expression from my view. I wanted to run my hands through those curls as I sat on his lap, him thrusting into me.

He had forgone his leathers today, and was wearing a white button down, paired with a pair of black slacks.

I went crazy when he wore white button downs. He knew that.

I cleared my throat, leaning against the frame of the door. He didn’t even look up.

"I see you, Eve," he spoke up. "I'm just ignoring you."

"You've been working all day," I complained, crossing my arms.

"And you standing there pouting will only slow me down," he said, finally lifting his head and meeting my eyes.

"I need you, Az," I whined, standing up straight.

He let loose a deep sigh, placing his pen onto the desk and pinching the bridge of his nose with his scarred fingers.

"Take your clothes off," he instructed.

I grinned in triumph, shedding my violet dress, then making quick work of my underthings. The air hit my bare body, my nipples peaking against it.

Azriel’s hazel eyes drank in the sight before he beckoned me over. I complied.

Azriel began unbuckling his belt. As he pulled him cock out, arousal settled in my core. I rubbed my thighs together, desperate for friction.

"You’ll have to behave if you want to cum," he warned.

His scarred hands found their place on my waist, flipping me around to face away from him. He carefully guided me down onto his cock.

I gasped at the intrusion, wanting nothing more than to sink all the way down. But he was guiding me so slowly, and I could feel as every inch impenetrated me.

I let out a loud moan as he bottomed out. His hands released my bare waist, and he picked up his pen, glancing over my shoulder to continue working.

I frowned, beginning to grind on his cock, but his shadows put a stop to that. They swirled around me, holding me in place.

"Az," I complained, trying to struggle against the shadows.

"I told you I was working," he reminded me. "Now, you will be patient until I am done."

Two of his shadows wrapped around my knees, spreading my legs open on his lap. I gasped at the cold air hitting my core. I dared to reach down and rub my clit, but a shadow gripped my wrist before I could, binding both of my hands behind my back.

The others worked at forcing me to sit up straight in his lap. Sitting up with my legs spread and my arms pinned behind my back was incredibly uncomfortable.

The only relief was his cock stuffed deep inside of me. But even that was becoming more of a frustration, since I couldn't move.

"Az," I repeated. "Please. This is unfair."

"You should've waited," he murmured into my ear. "Now, you'll be quiet and you will wait for me to finish my work. If you're good, I'll fuck you. If not, you'll just have to stay unsatisfied until tomorrow."

I whined again, which only irritated him further. He landed a harsh smack to my cunt, causing me to cry out at the sting.

"That's your first warning," he spoke. "If I get to three, you will not cum tonight."

"Yes, sir," I grumbled, feeling my arousal soaking onto his lap.

I could feel myself blushing at the fact that I was ruining his pants. But he didn't say anything about it. He just kept working.

The throbbing in my center was driving me wild, and all I wanted to do was bounce on his cock. But the shadows holding me down stopped that. And I knew if I disobeyed him, I would only regret it.

His cock twitched inside of me, causing me to gasp, throwing my head back. Another smack landed on my core.

"That's two," he warned. "Not another sound, princess."

I nodded, sending an apology down the bond. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on keeping myself quiet. If I couldn't cum tonight, I would go insane.

I watched a clock closely, which only made time go slower. He continued writing, but I was too frustrated and aroused to read it. My head felt utterly light.

Twenty torturous minutes went by, and I was nearly in tears. He was so deep, yet there was no pleasure.

"Almost done, princess," he murmured. "You've been so good for me."

I had to bite my lip to keep from sighing in relief. Azriel placed his pen down as he finished, and his shadows released me.

He jutted up inside of me, hips pulling back, then smacking against my ass. I cried out, tears of relief finally falling.

He fucked me harshly, one hand reaching around to rub my clit, the other wrapped around my throat. He squeezed just slightly, enough to cause discomfort.

I whined and mewled in his lap, my face wet from the pool of tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Please,” I moaned, not quite sure what I was begging for.

My ass stung from his hips snapping against it again, and again. I leaned my weight into him, allowing myself to relax as he fucked me.

“What do you want, princess?”

“Let me cum,” I begged, feeling that coil tighten in my lower stomach.

“Already?” he mocked. “But it’s so soon.”

“Please,” I sobbed.

I was so sensitive after all that teasing, it hadn’t taken me long to get to the edge at all.

“You can cum, but I’m not stopping until I do, too,” he warned.

“Thank you, thank you,” I cried out, my hands squeezing the edge of the desk in front of me as that coil snapped.

My moans were undigified as I came on his cock, pleasure wracking through me.

When I came down from my high, he sped up his thrusts. I whined from the overstimulation, leaned against him for support.

He stopped rubbing my clit, and instead began to rub comforting circles on my upper thigh.

When he came, he grunted, his release shooting into me. He bit down on my shoulder to muffle his moans, and I let out a harsh breath at the sting.

His shadows lifted me off of him and to my feet when he was done. I went to make for the door, but he stood behind me, bending me over the desk.

“I’m nowhere near done with you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @panther-girl-124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogersbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel

Azriel Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @panther-girl-124 @tangled-sun @hawke1917

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly @anneas11

Comment to be added to any taglists!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[errriiie]

Right now you're mine

shauna shipman x fem!reader minors DNI, all characters are 18 y.o

TW: smut, shauna shipman, jealousy, co-dependent relationships (?), dubcon extra tags: fem!reader, y/n mentions, porn with so-little-plot, jealous sex, degrading, possessiveness, fingering (r! receiving), dark themes, knife play word count: 3k not proofread english is not writer's first language!

Shadows dancing on the sheets If you obey I might give you a treat. There's something weird about you with Shauna. She's kind to you, then mean, but you never talk about it. She gives you mixed signals every damn day, and you're not quite sure what to make of it. You've been hanging out with Lottie lately because you thought it was okay. Shauna didn't like it. She made that clear. And she just wanted to wipe your nose and wipe the smug smirk off your face the way she knew how to do it best. (Also, you're a little like Mari here)

Your team won the treasure hunt. You were good at running - it was something natural, something that couldn't be taken away. You and the other girls were jumping up and down in a big happy ball, hooting happily, knowing that all day long you would finally be able to rest for at least a day from all this work for the good of your little camp. You tried not to bother anyone, although when Mari or Gen teased one of the losers once again, you did not try to hold back your smile. You finally felt some semblance of dominance, having fun with your friends and also letting off some arrogant comments. You knew that Shauna lost to you, being on the opposite team. Really, you did. But you tried to ignore her unreadable glances, from which her frown and disfavor towards you were given away only by her eyebrows, drawn together to the point of transference, when she snorted and whispered something in the ear of Melissa, who had so inopportunely formed around her.

It pricked your heart, but you couldn’t quite say why. There had never been anything formal or complete between you and Shauna one way or another. There had been some strange looks, awkward touches, but nothing serious, especially since the end of this winter, when the cabin had burned down. Shauna scared the shit out of you, but you couldn't bring it up. There was just something unnerving about her all-encompassing hatred and the way she separated herself from everyone. From you included. Well, it wasn't like you were friends or anything more. You dressed in the rags that Lottie, with whom you had grown a little closer in the last couple of weeks, called "sacred and appropriate" and proudly sat at a chair with the others. You were having a feast, followed by a ritual for those who had died in the winter. You shared grins with your team, cheerfully tapping your fingers on the table, unaware that Shauna was the one bringing you your food. You felt her presence twenty centimeters from your body as she came close. Everyone was busy with each other. In her hands was a deep bowl with something obviously tasty, and even if not, in your circumstances, you had no choice. You looked into her eyes - she looked into yours and, spat, sent a wad of saliva straight into your stew.

"Bon appetit." She placed it in front of you. You did not understand what had just happened. Your eyes widened while Shauna did not even think to move from her place. Then the realization of the disgusting gesture came. The desire to fight for justice followed.

"What the fuck, Shauna? Why did you just spit in my food?" you didn't expect your voice, fueled by the feeling of offense, to become loud enough for others to hear.

"Me? No. I'm not." The look she gave you sent shivers down your spine. She sounded like it was the most natural response, and it almost made you feel like you were the crazy one here.

"Fuck, Shauna, did you spit in her food? Seriously?" Natalie's tired and genuinely confused voice came from your side as she stood up. For some reason, you stood up too.

"No, and the mere suggestion offends me." she replied. Oh, you just got angrier. Apparently no one believed her. But Shauna didn't look like she needed it at all. "You should eat, y/n. I worked hard on this food."

You weren't going to swallow that. Not with so many curious eyes on you and Shauna. You grabbed the cup and pointedly, with one swift movement of your hand, dumped the entire contents on the ground. Shauna was furious because she clearly expected there to be no fight. She thought she knew you well. She thought you would bend to her will. The lack of the desired reaction was like the safety catch being released. Shauna leaned forward, grabbed your hair, tangling her strong fingers in the tangled mass and literally bent you over, smashing your cheek into what was left of the spilled stew. Not the smartest way to dispose of food. "I told you to eat, bitch!" she screams, letting you whine in humiliation and the efforts you make in vain to get out before the girls pull you apart. "Okay, I've had enough!" Natalie is pissed, and she's the queen, she's the leader of your little group, and you look completely confused as you try to wipe the dirt and stew off your face. "Both of you. House arrest. And no arguments. Don't ruin our evening with your bullshit." But you're hurt. You're literally the victim, you've done nothing to Shauna fucking Shipman, and you've definitely never wished her any harm, so why the fuck did she humiliate you in front of everyone and make you look so pathetic? You wrenched yourself free of the girl who was holding you and screamed furiously. "Fuck you all, this is bullshit!" you turned on your heels, trying to pick up the remains of your battered, pathetic pride and walked in the direction your tear-stained eyes were looking. Your back was literally catching sympathetic glances, especially Lottie's, and this only made you look smaller in this whole situation.

You clung to a tree, staring at the green crown of the spruce above your head. Damn Nat, who decided to punish you too. Damn everyone who decided not to intervene in time. Damn Shauna, who... the crunch of branches made you shudder and look around. You turned around, seeing a familiar figure in ordinary clothes. Dirty flannel, jeans stained with what looked like old blood, a knife... a knife? You look scared now. You stares at Shauna, takes a warning step back. "Whatever you're going to do to me, don't you fucking dare. Everyone will know." Your voice is menacing, and your eyes are watching the knife a dozen times more than they are watching Shauna's expression and intentions. "What the fuck have I ever done to you, Shipman? I didn't harm you in any way!" you try to defend yourself. Shauna's knife hand twitches at the word harm, moonlight catching the blade's serrated edge as she takes three slow steps forward. Her flannel clings to sweat-damp shoulders, that same earthy musk from pinning your face into the dirt still clinging to her knuckles.

"Done to me?" A bark of laughter scrapes her throat raw. She taps the knife's flat side against the pale line bisecting her left eyebrow—the scar from when you "accidentally" elbowed her during that stupid lake ice fight last winter. "You breathe. That's what you do."

The blade drifts lower, cold steel brushing the hollow of your throat. Shauna's other hand snakes out to fist in that infuriatingly soft shirt, yanking you close enough to smell the forest rot clinging to your hair. Her breath hitches—just once—when your noses almost touch.

Fourteen days ago. Midnight watch shift. Your laugh carrying from the tree line, leaning into Lottie's shoulder like you hadn't spent last Thursday letting Shauna braid wolfsbane into your hair.

"You wanna know what I'm gonna do?" Shauna murmurs, thumb swiping through the mud still smeared on your cheekbone. You presses yourself against the damn pine tree—or fir, it doesn't matter. You look wary, scared, and you trying to control your breathing so as not to show your fear to Shauna. Your head shoots up almost instinctively because you want to press youself against the tree trunk, just so Shauna doesn't slit your throat. "I... I actually hope you don't do anything," you says uncertainly, not knowing on what you supposed to be looking at: Shauna’s knife or Shauna’s face. "You know it'll cost you dearly if you kill me." The blade trembles—just enough to nick skin—as Shauna's mouth twists into something bitter and hungry. Pine resin sticks to your back, sharp and medicinal, mingling with the iron tang blooming at your throat.

"Cost me?" Shauna drags the knife downward, popping the first button of your shirt with surgical precision. "You think Nat gives a shit if I skin you like a rabbit?" You winces as a thin, shallow cut, small but bleeding, blooms across your throat. You can't even see it, and fear overwhelms you. You always thought this would be a rush of adrenaline, but your body just doesn't move as you mercilessly endures Shauna apparently undressing you.

"You're fucked if you kill me, I mean it," you voice is more of a tremor and a terrified bleat than anything else. The cougar bares its teeth even when cornered by a bear. "You know it's true, don't play with me."

Shauna's knife hand goes still when your breath hitches. The second button parts with a snick of steel through thread, exposing a sliver of collarbone that glows blue-white in the moonlight. Her free hand digs into your hip hard enough to bruise, pinning you against sticky bark.

"Cost," she repeats, dragging the blade lower to trace the curve of a breast through thin cotton. "You still think we're debating philosophy in the Literature class? That Becky MacCoy is gonna tattle to mr. Devis?"

The knife tip finds the third button. "They'll thank me." Cold metal slips between fabric folds, grazing nipple. "Burn your clothes for kindling. Use your bones for broth." Her knee jams between your  thighs, pressing up hard. "But you?" The blade retreats, comes to rest against your lower lip. "You'll just be... inconvenient."

You whimpers as Shauna's knee presses so nastily—and so good—on your clit. Fuck, you doesn't even know what's happening. Your mind is all mixed up with the holy and the sinful, and you doesn't understand who Shauna is to you, or if you going to die today. Or if you going to cum, either.

"W-why are you saying all this? Why are you doing all this?" you asks, looking worriedly at the knife on your bottom lip, but you has to admit, you looking into Shauna's dark eyes more often. "I don't even... hate you. Why the hell are you doing this to me, you fucking sadist?"

Shauna's thumb presses the blade flat against your tongue, metallic bitterness flooding both their mouths. Her knee grinds harder, friction burning through denim as she leans in until their foreheads touch. Sweat-damp strands of hair cling to your temple—you smells like fear and elderberries, Shauna notes with vicious satisfaction.

"Sadist?" She twists the knife handle, making light catch the saliva-slick steel. "You begged for this when you let Lottie braid those fucking daisies in your hair last week." The accusation comes out hoarse, unexpected. Her free hand snakes under your shirt, nails biting into soft belly flesh.

That afternoon by the creek. Your head in Lottie's lap, flower crowns and shared jerky. Shauna gutting rabbits twenty feet away, blood dripping hotter with each peal of laughter.

The knife withdraws. Shauna licks a stripe up the column of your throat, tasting copper and pine sap. "You want reasons?" Her teeth close around an earlobe, biting just shy of breaking skin. "I'm the butcher. You're the meat." You lets out a low moan in Shauna's ear, because it's hard not to. But your head is a storm, and you itching to defend yourself. You've always been quite the fighter. Maybe that's why Shauna wanted to break you so much. "I will be the last one to be meat. I'm the meat if I ever draw the queen card. But right now, I'm not meat at all," you mutters in Shauna's ear.

"You want to know why I was hitting on Lottie a week ago? Why I had daisies and wolfberry and sea buckthorn leaves in my hair? Because I wanted to fucking suck up to Lottie a little. I don't need her at all, if you're wondering." you speak with surprising clarity, as if there's no lie in your words. "Are you jealous of me, Shipman? Or are you jealous of her? I think if you were jealous of her, I'd be a fucking corpse right now."

Shauna's blade slips between the fourth and fifth buttons, parting fabric with a sound like cracking ice. The knife tip traces the valley between your breasts—too sharp, too precise to draw blood unless she wants to. Her other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back against the tree.

"You think I care about your pathetic games?" The blade dips lower, slicing through waistband elastic. Cold night air hits bare skin as denim pools around your ankles. Shauna's palm slams against the tree beside your head, forearm flexing as she crowds into your space. "Jealousy's for people who don't know how to take what's theirs."

Her teeth find the juncture of neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to bloom a bruise. You twitch in pain, but to Shauna's satisfaction, you have nothing to counteract. The knife clatters to the forest floor as Shauna's hand replaces it between your thighs, fingers pressing ruthless circles through damp cotton panties. "You don't get to be meat," she breathes against the fresh bite, "until I say you're meat."

It's too much for you. You twitches, and damn Shauna for being so fucking strong compared to you. Even in the past, you had always been known for your speed and tact, but not for your strength, which Shauna had in abundance.

You moans, softly and loudly, haltingly, trying to say something but unable to start a new sentence. You whine, and feels your teeth wound ache. You see the blood from the bite mark on Shauna's lips and leans forward, kissing them and biting her bottom lip before Shipman can say anything. You didn't understand what you were doing, but you really wanted to save your life. You already understood that Shauna had no intention of killing you. Yet. Fucking you was probably more interesting. You had fantasized about it a couple of times when you had to press yourself closer to Shauna's body in the winter because you had no choice and had to endure this forced closeness. You didn't remember when exactly you started liking it. Shauna freezes when your teeth catch her lip—a split-second of stillness where the forest holds its breath. Then her hand flies to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in sweat-damp hair to crush their mouths together properly. The taste of her own blood blooms between them, metallic and primal, as she licks into your mouth with the same ruthlessness she uses to field-dress deer. The kiss tastes like violence.

Her free hand rips the remaining buttons off your shirt, nails raking down pale ribs. The abandoned knife lies forgotten between pine needles as Shauna shoves her knee higher, denim seam grinding against soaked underwear. "Still think you're not meat?" she growls against swollen lips, biting the question into your jaw. Her thumb finds the hollow beneath your ear—that spot she'd mapped weeks ago during forced proximity—and presses hard enough to make your eyes roll back.

You moans hoarsely, your hips jerking against Shauna's knee between your legs. You need more, you want more, and you both so turned on right now. "Sh-shut up..." you moans, your cheek pressed against Shauna's for a second before your hands slide under Shauna's flannel and t-shirt, your nails raking painful lines down her back. You're such a fucking mess. Both of you. "P-please, do something. Give me your fingers back." You almost begs, biting you own bottom lip. Her knee isn't enough.

Shauna's laugh comes out ragged, more breath than sound, as she drags her bloodied lip across your cheekbone. "Begging already?" Her teeth catch the shell of your ear, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. The hand at your neck slides much lower, calloused fingers hooking into the waistband of those ruined panties.

With a sharp tug, Shauna tears the cotton aside. Her middle finger slides through slick heat in one brutal thrust, curling upward on the retreat. "This what you wanted?" she rasps, palm slapping against clit with each punishing stroke. Her other hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the sounds she'd die before admitting she's memorized. "Or you need me to carve the answer out of you?"

The forest floor swallows yours mingled breaths—pine needles crunching under shifting weight, distant owl cries drowned out by the wet slap of skin. Shauna presses her forehead to yours, brown eyes gone feral in the moonlight. "You'll take what I give," she growls, adding a second finger that stretches tight muscle, "and fucking thank me for it." You look at Shauna blurrily, your eyes unable to find focus, so bright and blue usually, so enchantingly deep now, looking so faded with sexual arousal. You moans in mild pain - it's been a long time since anyone has stretched you from the inside, and you feel sick from the unfamiliarity. That nice, fucking good feeling down there becomes clearer as you whispers. "I'm going to c-cum," you doesn't know why you warning Shauna about this, leaning almost all your entire body on her. One of your hands falls from Shauna's neck and lazily tries to pull Shauna's jeans down, but they won't budge. Of course. They're fucking buttoned. Shauna catches your wandering hand mid-hip, slamming it back against the tree with enough force to dislodge bark. "You don't touch," she snarls, the knife suddenly reappearing in her periphery—plucked from the forest floor and pressed sideways against your heaving stomach. Her fingers never stop moving inside you, the heel of her palm grinding relentless circles as sweat drips from her jaw onto exposed collarbones. "Think I'd let you sully these?" Shauna jerks her hips forward, denim-clad thigh rubbing against your bare one. The blade traces lazy patterns over damp skin without breaking it—this time. "These hands skin bears. Butcher does the taking."

Her thrusts turn jagged, knuckles whitening with the effort of keeping you pinned. The knife falls again, forgotten as Shauna's teeth find purchase on a peaked nipple through torn fabric. "Cum then," she demands against salt-damp skin, voice cracking like dry kindling. "Prove you're more than Lottie's fucking lapdog. More than just another dumb bitch who's content with her measly victory."

Moonlight catches the wild glint in brown eyes as Shauna watches—always watching—the exact moment your body betrays you. Her free hand digs into the soft flesh of your thigh, blunt nails leaving crescent promises that'll outlast dawn. You shudders, whimpers, and as if on cue, cums all over Shauna's fingers with a soft moan. Your head snaps back and hits the tree trunk. You hisses in pain, but it doesn't matter as you recovers from the intense orgasm. You doesn't even look at Shauna, simply because you afraid to look her in the eye after that.

"Was that all necessary?" you mutters, but not with aggression or irritation. It sounds like a strange question. Shauna withdraws her fingers slowly, deliberately, watching yours body twitch with oversensitivity. She brings glistening digits to her mouth, tongue swiping through the mess with a predator's grin. "Necessary?" The word drips with mockery as she steps back, adjusting her flannel with hands that don't quite steady.

She stoops to retrieve her blade, thumb wiping pine resin off the hilt. The night air bites at sweat-slick skin as she turns toward the tree line, shoulders rigid. "Don't flatter yourself." The words hang between them like a noose. "Just needed to shut you up before the coyotes came."

Her retreating footsteps crunch through underbrush, leaving you half-dressed against the pine. Dawn's first light catches the blood drying on Shauna's collar—proof of teeth marks she'll spend tomorrow's watch shift tracing with her tongue. She leaves you alone. Confused and half-naked. You awkwardly pull up your wet underwear, dress as best you can - your clothes aren't in the best condition, and you knew it was unwise to lose them like that. You came, but was it worth it?

You swallow your resentment as you slip into your hut. You just want to sleep.

[metranart]

hey, I know you probably busy and I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe make some headcanons of what hawks would do if y/n got pregnant?

You don't bother me at all, cutie. :) Here you have some cute little headcanons of our favorite birdie boy.

What Hawks would do if Y/N got pregnant? <3

Takami Keigo is not complicated, he wants as many chicks as he has fingers and toes, and he wants them all with YOU. 

You hadn’t thought about the subject but every time you’ve been at it … -it WAS unprotected. There was nothing to keep you from getting, round and heavy, with his child. And it wasn’t just once. Keigo could go for hours on end- he wouldn’t stop until he fucking collapsed on top of you, completely spent. “Sheesh, that-that was something else entirely, dove.” His smile bright enough to compete with the sun in the sky and win.

“If you get pregnant… I’ll be required to take care of you for the rest of our lives.” He shared all too proud of his deed, that look of adoration in his face, way too close to possessiveness. “—But one thing I swear, (Y/N). I’ll take care of EVERYTHING, you, them, us… All, you just watch me.” 

When the pregnancy test finally confirmed that his secret efforts had been fruitful, he nearly exploded with happiness, he carried you in his arms and your feet did not touch the ground again for the next forty minutes. 

“Dear god- you got even tighter.” Keigo’s voice sounded deeper, “So WET- my love, taking my time to preparing you first was more rewarding than I expected it’d be.” The lingering taste of you on his tongue nearly enough to get him off- “I’m LOVING this pregnant stage, don’cha?” 

The more your belly grew the more he glued to your side. All of the energy that in the past went into making the baby now goes into keeping you and his child happy and healthy. 

One morning, Keigo was looking at you with that unblinking, unreadable look of his, anxious you chewed at your lower lip before voice out your deeper doubts out loud. “I'm not a fan either-” his head cocks to the side, questioningly, and you suck in a nervous giggle, “-of my mom body.”

It would have been better if you slapped him, that would have been less offensive than what you just said. "I LOVE your mommy body, dove. I dream with your plump adorable tummy and all your mommy curves, all night long!" he stressed, ignoring your embarrassed giggles, in order to give a clear and firm statement, "... I'm even thinking about keeping you with that mommy body, all round and pretty and full of my chicks... how would that sound to you?" You shake your head, and he pouts playfully, your heart impossibly warm for him and his cute efforts which always work to make you feel better.

“Stop starin’.” You grumbled, cracking one eye open and staring at him, a tired grin ghosting your lips. “I can’t sleep with you watching me, Keigo.” The Hero grins, “Just checking that you were comfortable-” you shake your head, “For more than an hour?”

Keigo glanced downward at your stomach, a fond grin twisting the corner of his lips up as he imagined a little boy or girl, who looked everything like you- just with his last name, he asked for nothing else. The little one snuggled up in his arms as he read bedtime stories. He imagined teaching the child to ride a bike, to fly-… At this point, Keigo craved just for two things, domesticity and YOU… or just you, if it came to that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He growled for the thousand time, though his hands stayed gentle on your round belly. “I love everything about you. Your imperfections are so mouthwatering, (Y/N). My favorite parts.” He managed to sound reverent, like a man speaking of his Deity. He would kiss the ground your feet touch if you let him but sometimes you are so restrictive with him.

Having you in his arms has become his favorite part of finishing his patrol, that little extra weight you've gained is mesmerizing, he could adore you for hours, that's why since he met you, he leaves some feathers hidden in your apartment when he must leave, that way he can at least be close, even when he's far away.

"Don't think I don't know what you do, birdie." You whine playfully and he laughs, "how long have you known?" you snort through your mouth, "since we've known each other." Keigo snickers widely, you are definitely his person, no one else could stand how mushy and clingy he can be, more than you, his adorable and pregnant, dove.

🔞➡️ MHA X Reader NSFW ART

[clouji]

Shotgunning

+ hamzah x reader, first time vaping, making out, one shot

💟

Loud music and drunk people everywhere..... it wasn’t really your type of scene. But your best friend Mandy begged you to come, and you didn’t want her to be alone, so you said yes.

You were already two drinks in, standing alone on the balcony as the party inside remained colorful. You've been here for a while, drumming your fingers in your red cup. You weren't drunk, a bit buzzed. Mostly, you were bored.

The door behind you slipped open. You looked around and saw a tall man walk out. He's fixing his hair and holding a vape. He looked at you, gave a slight nod, and then rested against the balcony railing a few steps away.

You watched him take a hit and blew out the smoke slowly.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said, not even looking at you.

You laughed a little. “I don’t really like parties.”

"Same,” he said.

It was quiet for a few moment. He kept vaping. You kept looking at him and the city lights in the distance.

“What kind of vape is that?” you randomly asked, just to break the silence.

“Geek bar. Miami Mint,” he said. Then he looked over you. “You want?”

You looked at the vape, then at him. You had never tried before. But something about him made you feel like… why not?

"I've never vape before.... but sure."

He smiled and stepped a bit closer. “Okay, just think of it like you’re sipping from a straw. Don’t go too hard or else you’ll cough.”

You did what he said, but oh well… you coughed. A lot, actually. He laughed softly.

“Yeah,” you said, voice raspy, “fuck- that was so bad.”

“It was your first time so it's understandable.” he said laughing,

Silence fills the space, those long lashes, the curve of his nose, those curls you wish you could touch. You glance away, but it’s too late.

He passes you his vape again like it’s nothing. You’ve inhaled it enough times now that coughing doesn’t even happen anymore.

“Wanna try something different?”

You gave him a look. “What?”

“It’s called shotgunning,” he said. “I take a hit and blow the smoke into your mouth. You just let it happen.”

You look at him confused, “Like… a smoke kiss?”

“Yeah, I guess” he said, “Wanna try?”

You looked at him. His cute smirk, the way he was already kinda leaning in so you just nodded.

“Fuck it,” you said.

He leaned closer and exhaled smoke through your parted lips. It was minty and sweet. You closed your eyes for a second, and when you opened them, he was still there, watching you softly.

“Not bad, right?”

You nodded. “Not bad.”

He looked at your lips, then back at your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You froze. You barely knew him. You don't even know his name.

I mean, he's cute... and there was something about the moment... the quiet balcony, the lingering taste of blue raspberry and minty that dragged you in.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You can.”

He kissed you. Gentle at first, then deeper as you lean in. His lips were warm, hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you in like he was starving for you. Which made you forgot about the party for a second. You forgot about everything.

“There you are!”

You pushed him away as Mandy stepped onto the balcony, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We’re leaving.”

You looked at her, lips still tingling.

The guy stepped back slightly, clearing his throat.

Mandy gave him a side eye, then looked at you. “Oh?” she mouthed.

You ignored her, turning back to him. “ I'm y/n, What’s your name?”

“Hamzah,” he said with a smile.

“Well....” he said, scratching his lips, “if you ever wanna hang out again, I mean outside of the party. I'm down.” He handed you his phone and waited for you to put your number in.

You smiled, already backing toward the door. “Maybe I will.”

Hamzah waved at you with his vape, “I'll text you later.”

You waved back, heart still pounding, and followed Mandy out into the noise of the house.

“Okay what the hell was that!” she asked loudly once you were outside while waiting for the ride.

You giggled as adrenaline rushed through your body. “Just tried something new.”

💟

[elllisaaa]

OBSESSION - K. SEUNGMIN

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - HANDCUFFS + EDGING

SUMMARY : when seungmin catches you flirting with another guy at a bar, he gets possessive even if he has no right to be. you deserve to be punished for making him feel like that.

-> pairing : fuck buddy!seungmin x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.7k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!seungmin x sub!reader, edging (obviously), hancuffing (obivously too), jealousy, swearing, teasing, a sprinkle of angst, choking, rough sex, hair pulling, manhandling, sex toy, orgasm denial, begging, use of 'brat', 'slut' & 'whore', dacraphylia, oral (f. receiving), fingering

+ the way i'm depicting seungmin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | kinktober 2024

Seungmin had only planned to spend a quiet night, alone with a movie and some snacks to relax after his stressful week at work. So being dragged by Felix and Changbin to a bar wasn’t really part of his resting schedule. What was even less part of this schedule was stumbling over you, leaning against the counter, and laughing out loud at the jokes some lame guy made. A guy that was obviously flirting with you. A guy you were obviously flirting back with. 

It shouldn’t bother him, it shouldn’t even be on his mind. After all, Seungmin was the one who made it clear to you when you started to fuck with each other that you were not exclusive, that he wasn’t ready for a real relationship yet, that you could fuck whoever else you wanted as well as he could. Though, he wasn’t prepared for the way he became completely and utterly addicted to you - to your body, your lips on him, the sounds you made when he was touching you right, your hands on him, your taste, your cunt, everything. 

So seeing that other guy that didn’t even know you hated margaritas trying to flirt with you made a kind of anger he wasn’t familiar with boil inside of him. He knew that he should get over it, that he should just let you live your life like he told you to, but something was screaming at him to stop it, to make it clear that you were his. However, a very drunk Felix interrupted his plans to crash on your little date. Just before he could leave, your eyes crossed and you waved at him with a smile that made his insides twist. He didn’t wave back, helping Changbin support Felix’s weight, and he missed the sadness that crossed your eyes for a few seconds. 

“- What's happening ? Your new fuck toy can't make you cum ?”

You rolled your eyes at Seungmin as you pushed past him to walk in his apartment. It had been a week since the bar incident, and unlike every other week, he hadn't tried to reach out even once. And you knew Seungmin could be distant and forget about answering your texts sometimes, but never this long. So you just decided to show up at his place, pretty annoyed at him at this point. 

“- Is it what this is all about ? You're jealous ?”

Your snarky tone made his jaw clench, your words hitting too close from reality for him not to feel all the rage he had endured that day come back full force, the memories of that guy leaning in and touching your waist still fresh and clear in his mind. The images had been playing again and again in his head, the thought wouldn't leave him alone. Seungmin scoffed, offended, as he watched you get comfortable on his couch. 

“- I'm not jealous. You can do whatever the fuck you want. 

- Then why did you ignore me all week ?”

Seungmin pretended to be busy as he locked the door, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat when he thought about you being held and fucked by someone else, by someone that wasn't him. 

“- I was busy. That's all. 

- Yeah, of course ! You really think I'm gonna buy this ?”

This time, it was anger that rushed through his veins as he made a beeline to you, taking a hold of your jaw, his grip so strong you winced as you looked up at him. His eyes were burning up with a fire that was foreign even for you. 

“- Don't test me sweetheart, you know you won't be the one to win. Don't start something you can't finish.”

His tone was harsh, his words and hands rough as he wrapped one of them around your neck to bring you inches apart from his lips, but not letting you get a taste of them. You sighed against his mouth, your resolve crumbling more and more the longer he looked at you like he was going to ruin you. 

“- What are you gonna do, uh ? Punish me ?”

Your condescending tone finished to anger him as he grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging on them to guide you to his room and throwing you on the bed, ignoring your complaints as he opened the drawer of his nightstand to get his handcuffs out of them. You gulped at the sight of the all too familiar object, throwing in a fight just for the sake of it as Seungmin attached you to his bed, your arms stretched up. 

“- What happened sweetheart ? Cat got your tongue ?”

This time, it was his tone that became condescending as Seungmin started to undress himself, getting rid of his shirt and teasing you by pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants but never pulling them down. Your eyes were glued to his body, barely listening to what he was saying. 

“- Shut up…”

Seungmin clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he got something else out of his nightstand.

“- Now, you know that’s not how you’re supposed to talk to me. I think I need to teach you a lesson. Again.”

As soon as your eyes got a glimpse of the vibrator Seungmin was holding in his hands, you knew you were fucked. You looked at him desperately, already pleading with your gaze for him to not do that. But he only chuckled darkly as he threw away your pants and your panties, spreading your legs open despite your resistance. 

“- You better listen to me now, if you want to cum at all tonight.”

The threat had you closing your mouth shut and letting him press his thumb harshly against your clit, making you writhe and moan underneath his touch. Seungmin knew how much you liked to have your hands on him, and he knew how bad you wanted him to touch you too, and not some toy. And that was exactly the reason why he chose to handcuff you to his bed and edge you with a vibrator. Maybe it was cruel, maybe you didn’t really deserve that. But Seungmin didn’t care, he needed to get his frustration out, and he was going to do it on you. 

He turned on the vibrator to a low setting, pressing it against your clit. You gasped at the sudden contact, your back arching off of the bed and eyes closing shut. And it only encouraged Seungmin to circle your clit with the toy, making the stimulation even more intense for you. Every sound of pleasure that fell from your lips was like music to his ears, but it was still not enough. He needed more, he needed to remind you that you were his. 

“- You’re close, uh ?”

You nodded at his words, your moans elevating higher and higher as time passed. He knew how sensitive you were, how easy it was to make you cum once you knew where to touch, where to caress you. While he was still holding the vibrator against your clit, he kept your legs spread open with the other, eyes fixed on the way your hole clenched around nothing, on the way you were getting wetter and wetter by the seconds. And just as you warned him that you were about to cum, Seungmin pulled the toy away, only earning cries of disappointment from your part. 

“- You really thought I would let you cum just like that when you’ve been nothing but a brat ? If you want something, beg for it sweetheart.”

Without letting you have any more time to think of an answer or to collect your thoughts, Seungmin increased the settings of the toy before pressing it back down to your clit, watching you struggle against the handcuffs, watching you moan pathetically, watching you gradually break down for him with every orgasm he ripped away from you. And he never once let you have his fingers, complying to thrust the toy in between your soaked folds once he was satisfied with how weak you sounded, with how much of a mess he made of you.

“- P-Please, Minnie… Please let me cum, please, I’m sorry…”

Your moans had morphed into choked sobs by now, tears streaming down your face as you looked up at him, noticing how his eyes were burning with a dark desire to have you at his mercy. And Seungmin was adamant on not letting you cum until he was satisfied with how much you cried, how much you begged, and how many times you said his name. 

“- Not yet. I think you need to remember who’s the only one that can make you feel good.”

You whined as Seungmin took away another one of your orgasms. Your whole body was trembling underneath him, your wrists were starting to hurt from the handcuffs, but your main focus was on your release. You could feel and hear how wet you were, and by now, you were so sensitive and swollen from the stimulation of the toy that every little touch made you squirm and whimper pitifully. 

“- So tell me, little whore, who’s making you cum the hardest ? Me or that lame guy who doesn’t even know that you like to be treated like a slut ?

- You ! You, it’s you Seungmin ! It’s you, please, please, let me cum…

- That’s right, you’re my slut. Say it.

- I-I’m your slut…”

The delirious state he had managed to get you in paired with your whiny words made a proud smirk creep up on his face as he threw the vibrator away, replacing it by his tongue as he lapped at your juices. Seungmin groaned against your folds as your legs instinctively closed around his head. But this time, he didn’t spread them back open, letting you smother him as he sucked on your clit, pushing two of his fingers deep inside of your cunt, just like he knew you liked it. 

“- Cum. Now.”

His command was followed by a string of moans and “thank you”’s as Seungmin feasted in between your thighs. He could claim he only did that because he knew you liked it, he could claim that he wasn’t even jealous, he could claim that he hadn’t cum in his pants just from hearing you say you were his. He could say whatever he wanted but the truth was that he was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @caitlyn98s @skz1-4-3 @bbgnyx @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @heevllog @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @foxinnie8 @rashid-realrashid @lala-----------lala @urlocal-user

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Team bonding

TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Soap | Snake in the Garden | Team bonding | Like a Dream

MDNI!!!

Tag list 🖤: @jenniferpendragon @amyg1509

Hearing John's rough panicked voice sent a shiver down your spine as you squeezed your knees closer to your chest holding your breath. "Y/N? Dear, please, open the door. What's going on?"

"What do you care?" You croaked out sniffling, the silence deafening making you laugh, "Never cared before."

"Gorgeous, let u-"

"No, no, no. How many times do I have to say ..." Pushing yourself up, "no, " Turning and unlocking the door, "and to just go away?" Swinging the door open you glared at all of them.

They had all stiffened at the sight of you, your eyes were blood shot, cheeks flushed, dark bags under your eyes, you looked miserable and angry. "Luv."

"Go to Angie, tell her all your problems." The look of compete shock made you laugh pushing John's chest making him step back a little, "Didn't think I knew? She can't help but to walk around base talking about how all of you are pent up dogs eye fucking her and begging her to stay with you all." You hated even more that they were just standing there quietly, fear and worry in their eyes.

"Bonnie-"

"Don't, just..." Taking a deep breath as a few tears slid down your cheeks you groaned, "I may look stupid, we never said anything on being exclusive so you guys can do anything and one that you want. I know it's none of my business." The hurt in their eyes as you continued to speak make you choke up, heart clench but they hurt you first. You didn't want to hold back, "But seriously? John? As much as I've comforted you, held you and we've fucked I really thought you would be nice enough to tell me that you guys had some other medic on the missions." The visible flinch as if you had just slapped him across the face made you scowl, you waited a beat, still they said nothing. "Why didn't you tell me you replaced me?"

"I didn't-"

"Yes you did."

He scowled right back at you, you know he believes he didn't technically replace you, but to you, he really did. "I wasn't trying to dear, I jus..." You started crying, he froze, as he tried to step forward to wrap his arms around you but you stepped back shutting the door locking it again. Sobbing you fell to your knees, "Darling, I'm sorry ple-"

"She's touched all of you, I've seen it, none of you push her away, none of you do or say anything. She's clung to Johnny like a fucking desperate slag and you let her! Kyle is so fucking friendly with her you stand right in her shadow. You let her touch your beard, you let her..." Hiccupping you clenched your chest, "And Simon, you were actually gentle with her." You felt so sick, so tired, "I can't look at any of you, I may be overreacting but I thought that after everything you guys would actually care about me." Your sobs broke your speech up but they understood you loud and clear and they broke with you, as you laid before the door crying they all sat down in the hall breaking down with you.

It wasn't till late in the evening that you pushed yourself up and went to your bathroom sighing, taking a quick shower before slipping on a tank top and shorts, combing your hair you looked at your door. Taking small quiet steps you tried listening to the hall, hoping that they had gone to their rooms you opened your door and before you could close the door again Simon held the door open, "Luv, please let us talk to you."

Fighting to try and close it before groaning you pushed back, "What?"

You hated how they invaded your space and all you still wanted was to just lay down with them and have amnesia and live in ignorant bliss. God your heart practically stopped when Johnny got in your view, his eyes just as blood shot from crying, you've barely ever seen him cry before and the few times you have it kills you. "We've told her so many times to not touch us, that she is just there for papers that there's a medic." Kyle said, your eyes still on Johnny.

"We're not saying what you saw didn't happen, but please believe us when we say we reject her, every time." John said, you looked at all of them slowly, they looked just as miserable.

"Guys have only just glanced in my general direction and you guys loose your minds, have done things for even brushing past me. Yet there's a girl throwing herself at all of you and you don't do a thing to her but say some words that mean nothing to her." You say wrapping your hands around your waist.

"She'll get hers luv."

"Why, because now I'm upset and know?" You scoffed pouting.

As Kyle and Johnny slowly walked to you Simon's eyes caught sight of your papers on your desk and while you looked to the other two he read the papers. "Bonnie, ye are everything to us, we've set boundaries and granted we weren't as hard as when things happen to ye but that's only because even if she were to of done anything more compared to the guys getting close to ye..." He was before you and as much as you knew what he was saying that they could handle themselves against her and that she would certainly be at a bit of a risk if the men on base decided to go against her consent. It angered you and annoyed you but feeling the heat radiating from his body made your body tingle and hands itch to reach out and touch him.

"Gorgeous, we'd never let her get anywhere near us more than she was even able to. You're the only person we have ever let near, embraced or loved."

Snapping your head to look at Kyle your eyes widened, "What is this?" You looked at Simon and froze. "You're trying to transfer?"

Fuck, you felt lightheaded as they all looked at you, "I-"

"Darling." You looked at John, he walked up to you, cupping your cheeks he made you look into his eyes, your heart pounded in your ears as everything zoned in on him.

"I'm sorry." Not what you wanted to say but it was the first thing that came out, you felt like you all were mirroring each other in emotions and it was weighing so heavily on your heart how broken they were with you. "It was all too much for me, I couldn't st-stay. I didn't want to see you all with her li-like that." Grabbing his wrists you nuzzled your head into his hands sniffling. "I don't want to lose you guys but..." Looking up you sighed. "I'm tired."

Simon and Kyle flanked you, while Johnny pressed his chest to your back, hands grabbing onto you as John leaned down and kissed you. Breaking, you pushed into him and kissed him back, you felt everyone's lips on your neck and shoulders whispers of them declaring their love and how you own them in every way you ever could. Gasping against John's lips as Johnny ground into you whimpering of apologies and pleas to not leave him. Turning your head you kissed Kyle, hand reaching for John's shoulder holding him close. You'd never been with all of them at once, this was new and exciting as you were on the receiving end of their praise and love, their rough hands gently massaging and groping.

Turning to Simon you moved his baclava up enough to kiss him, his tongue invading your mouth making you moan as Kyle nipped at your neck. Trembling slightly you gasped as you fully turned for Johnny who wrapped his arms around you holding you tightly as he kissed you moaning with you. Feeling as everyone was easing your clothes off, you leaned back slightly for Simon to pull your tank top off and Kyle removed your shorts and underwear. John wrapped his arms around you from behind, as you rest your head on his shoulder you gasped arching when he bit your neck moaning as Johnny kneeled before you, lifting a leg onto his shoulder he kissed your thighs before littering hickies and bite marks along your thighs and close to your dripping cunny, moaning.

"Johnny, please." Whining you pushed your hips closer to him looking down gasping when he latched his lips onto your clit making you moan and grab onto Kyle's shoulder.

"Look so beautiful baby, no one can even come close." Kyle moaned cupping your breast moaning against your neck. Huffing you started grinding against Johnny's face reaching down with your other hand to grab his mohawk keening when he teased your hole with his fingers, his tongue flicking your clit. Already your leg was shaking under you as you turned to Simon to kiss him, your moans muffled against him as you pushed your back into John. Shaking you threw your head back against John's shoulder whimpering before a strained scream ripped from your already sore throat, hips moving quickly with Johnny's pumping fingers. Your leg slowly giving out as you panted trying to push Johnny's head from your thighs.

"Shit, Johnny, please. I came, stop fuck." Groaning you squealed surprised when Kyle grabbed your leg and Simon grabbed the other, working together they hoisted you up, John tightening his hold around your waist as Johnny groaned against your clit the vibration going straight to your spine. "Oh god." Pushing both hands into his hair you tried leaning to Kyle whimpering when you couldn't reach.

As Kyle leaned forward you both collided hungrily kissing, panting into his mouth as Simon leaned forward sucking on your nipple. Feeling the second orgasm flooding through you, you tensed in their hold whining against Kyle's lips pulling harshly onto Johnny's hair making him whimper and moan as he slurped your juices as it trickled down his hand and wrist. As Johnny leaned back he slowly pumped his fingers into you, easing you through your release smiling when Kyle pulled back and you instantly looked down at him, new tears staining your cheeks from ecstasy. Your body shivering as he eased his fingers from you gently rubbing your clit as he put both hands on your inner thighs spreading you planting a soft peck to your throbbing clit and leave open mouthed kisses along your thighs before he stood up slowly kissing you. Kyle and Simon Carefully lowered your legs while John went to your bed resting his back against the wall as he sat in the middle of it, Simon and Kyle joined him on either side while you and Johnny got lost in your own world.

Looking at the others you gasped pulling back tasting yourself now on your tongue from Johnny, crawling up between John's legs you straddle one of his legs while pulling Kyle back to yourself kissing him. Moaning as Simon grabbed your waist and moved you back and forth on John's thigh earning a groan from the both of you. Having already came twice from Johnny your cunt was dripping wet and you were sure John's pant leg was already soaked. Feeling a thick pair of fingers slide between you and John's leg you sighed as Kyle slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring every crevasse moaning when you also slipping your tongue around his practically tangling the two of you. Feeling the bed dip behind you, you sat up and looked down biting your lip as John's fingers slowly worked your overstimulated clit. Griping John's shoulders you whined, "Mark me." Gasping as Kyle also slipped his fingers down, your slick making their fingers easily pass each other and play with your clit. "Please, mark me, fuck me. I want to mark all of you. Want everyone to know- shit urgh." Your hips stuttered in Simon's grasp as both John and Kyle's fingers teased your tight hole. "Want everyone to know you're all mine. Please."

"How could we say no to that darling." John moaned as you locked your lips with his, the others finding any space on you, sucking, biting, kissing, squeezing hard sure to leave hand prints. Being swept under the waves you leaned back and went to Kyle removing yourself from John panting as you frantically started pawing at his shirt and pants removing what you could with his help. Latching yourself to his neck making him groan as you bit and sucked at him like a leach as you drew a little blood with a bite that was a little too hard but you were happy to see it already start to bruise a little. Pushing him to lay down you went down his body leaving a scattered trail hovering over his pelvic when you felt Simon grasp your hips pulling them up a little. His tongue dragged down your slit, moaning at the taste before suckling on your clit his grip on your ass spreading you for himself.

Pushing fully back against him you continued to work on leaving marks now on Kyle's thighs, his shaking just as much as yours, his cock twitching. Grabbing his shaft you slowly dragged your hand up and down watching as his stomach tightened, moaning looking down at you. Feeling a swift slap to your back side when you tried to pull to sit up happy with the littered marks on Kyle's body you gasped looking over your shoulder at Simon, "Not done ye' luvie."

"But Si." You whined pushing onto his fingers that were pumping into you. "I want Johnny." Groaning as his fingers slid out of you before he man handled you up and sat you in front of Johnny. Dazed you clawed at him, his grin and shiver of excitement pushing you to leave darker marks on his neck his groan vibrating his throat against your lips.

"Come on bonnie, don't leave an inch untouched. Mark me to yer hearts content. I'm all yers. Always have been, always will be." It didn't take you long to scratch and bite your way around his body, loving how he sounded when you would suck dark hickies into him. The whine he made when you withdrew from him made you smile as you leaned over him kissing him, his hands squeezing your already bruising hips.

"It's John's turn baby." You whispered into his ear nipping his ear lobe giggling when he groaned letting you go.

Crawling and turning to John, you smiled as he had started removing his shirt for you, helping him remove his pants you couldn't help moaning with him as the guys took turns playing with your clit, building you to another orgasm. Settling between John's thighs you suckled on his cock, his fingers scraping your scalp before fisting your hair holding you tightly. Feeling someone's fingers pumping into you as the other two abuse your clit you lifted your head up, mouth letting go of John's cock with a pop, "God, please don't stop. I'm so close." You whined grinding your hips with them, walls clenching around fingers tightly before a breathy moan left your throat. Weakly sitting up you looked at Simon, he had removed his baclava, undressing him, you slowly trailed around his body, focusing on his arms mostly knowing that the rest of his body is always covered but on some rare occasions he does pull his sleeves up at times. You still wanted people to know he was just as well marked as the rest.

Straddling Simon after being content with your work you ground on him moaning when the head of his dick kept catching your clit. Getting up to slightly hover over him as he lined himself up with you you gasped as your cunt stretched around him as you lowered down. Moving slowly with his guided movements you looked at Kyle, leaned down by him and started suckling at his cock moaning as Simon started pounding up into you grunting as your walls fluttered around him. Feeling Simon's thumb rubbing your clit you felt close and moaned around Kyle's cock as he pushed the back of your head down groaning as he came down your throat and Simon pushed up into you as he held your waist down against himself cumming deep inside you as you also came.

Panting as you were laid down onto your bed, Simon gently moving himself. You noticed that as Johnny got between your legs, lifting your legs up to his shoulders, Simon had put his baclava back on, you wondered momentarily if he was also over whelmed but your mind blanked when Johnny eased his throbbing cock into your sensitive cunt.

You didn't see the slim figure in the hall or small flash of a light but Simon and John did, both irate, having clearly seen who had caught all of them and decided to take a picture of your most vulnerable moment. For the time being they continued to focus on you, deciding to give the person in the hall a show that will be their last.

John gently ran his knuckles on your cheek as you held your head off the edge of the bed guiding his dick to your open mouth moaning as Johnny's thrusts started rocking you into John, slowly forcing you to take more of him, relaxing your throat you thoroughly blanked out as the two fucked into you. Rightly using your holes as you came again, Johnny whimpering as you milked him but he refused to stop. Drunk off of you, he pushed your thighs down to your chest, his cock ramming into you as John rested a hand on your throat moaning as he could feel his dick fucking your throat.

Digging your nails into John's hips you moaned around him when you and Johnny came, the guys all pouring out their love and claim for you. John groaned as he pushed flesh against your mouth cumming, tightening his grip on your throat feeling his cock twitch, cumming deep in you along with Johnny. As both men slowly pulled out of you, you gasped whining at the lose and stimulation as you were moved careful to lay properly in your bed, Kyle laying with you as Johnny listened to whatever Simon was whispering to him. John got in behind you, cuddling you as everyone massaged your limbs.

Yawning, you wrapped your arms around Kyle resting your head on his chest, humming as John told you how much you mean to all of them. Falling asleep you whispered back to all of them, "Love you guys." When they were sure you were sleeping, Johnny and Simon quickly got dressed and left to retrieve the disgusting little intruder while John and Kyle stayed with you. You were none the wiser of what was happening but in complete bliss.

----

Like a Dream

I've been working on trying to get this done for the past few days and good lord!!🥴 I was so scattered brained trying to remember where each guy was and just absolutely getting lost in the damn fantasy. But here, declarations of love, group therapy, and some pizaz.✨ Really hope ya'll enjoyed. I'm thinking the next post will be a wrap up of this maybe two more posts but we'll see. I do have already another story brewing in my head that's bugging to get out but I want to finish this one. Let me know what ya'll think.

[bbybhr]

Just wanted to write smut with old man logan cause my loooong looong fic about him is still in progress and they're refusing to sleep with each other...bummer huh?I just use my drabble card

MDNI

Old man logan is the kind of guy who loves his pillow princess, life was so hard on him that he found himself yearning for taking control, and you; his sweet little angel knows it pretty well because he reminded you that so many times.

when he's kneeling infront of you, eating you out,practically devouring you with his mouth while holding your hips in his rough calloused hand, his shoulders beneath your knees, holding your lower body in the air as he sucks at your sensitive clit, making you mewl in overstimulation, and when you do as much as try to move a little on his tongue so you could get rid of that knot in your stomach hoping to get off a little sooner , he would growl while still lapping at your sweet cunt but now with more force, his hand grabbing your hips tighter, bruising them, not wanting you to move, just lay down and take everything he gives you. It's an unspoken yet clear rule.

And when he's done with your now puffy nub, having you sobbing infront of him, he would slowly lower your legs... but don't take that breath of relief yet! He would straight up his leaned posture, still on his knees looking down at you, admiring the mess he made out of you.

"My beautiful fucking girl"

He would rasp out as his hand touch the wetness that you made on his beard than slowly leaning on you again grabbing your knees and forcefully parting them

"Not done yet,princess"

He rubs his index finger along your foldes coating them with your juice as he leans closer to your pussy

"Can't get enough...what have you done to me..."

He mumbles more to himself than you

You're trying to maintain your tears as your body jerks from the sensation of his finger

"Logan..."

You plead, your voice shaking

"Shh I know, I know"

He would say before slowly teasing your entrance with his middle finger slowly pushing it forward, feeling your hot and wet walls around his digit. He would touch your inside with the tip of his finger and soon enough finding that gummy spot inside of you and pushing on it.

"Found it..."

He voices with a mean tune as a loud moan skip you and you try to move away from his touch.

"Uh uh,there's no running my little bunny...take it"

He pushes his finger further in you, pressuring the same spot, his other hand moves up resting at your lower stomach and as soon as he pistons his finger inside you he would press it with a little force.

You moan and squirm under his touch, the only thing you could focus on is how his finger feels inside of you; and the sweet pressure on your stomach where the same knot of pleasure builds up and up and up again.

He would add another finger expecting you to take it like the good girl you are, now two fingers knuckle deep pumping inside of you as a string of "pleas pleas pleas" leaves your lips

"Please what darlin"

He would ask unbothered by your state having you right where he wants you

"Need... need you. Lo...please"

You beg him for what?you don't even know. Your mind clouded and your body feels like a bunch of nerves ending, feeling logan everywhere

"Need what sweetheart?need more?you greedy little slut"

His voice gruff and full of need to be inside of you but he could tolerate it, if he gets to see you like this a little more

"Just wanting my full fucking attention on you huh?Well I'm gonna make damn sure that you get it"

He places his thumb on your oversensitive nub starting to stroking it in circular motion, deliberately ignoring your plead to stop

"I know what you really fucking want darlin, this shit ain't work on me"

He says as he's hand on your stomach move up pinching your nipple twisting it between his two fingers, his other hand still working wonders, making you see stars and you moan his name almost as loud as a scream

"Jesus...music to my ears"

He mumbles before grabbing you by the back of your neck pulling your face close to his, folding you in half and smashing his lips on yours; growling at the sweet taste you leave on his tongue and how your delicate body trembles under him...one again the knot in your stomach snaps and the rush of hormones washes over you leaving your body weak.

"That's it doll...there we go"

He cooed on your lips before biting your shaking bottom lips and riding you down your high.

You're a fucking mess under him as he lay you on your back again,body full on display and covered in a thin layer of sweat, glowing under the dim light, you made a wet patch on his bed between your legs and your cheeks and lips are blushed, an absolute goddess in his eyes, his innocent little lamb ravaged by the big bad wolf that he is

At this point he can not take it any longer, just grabbing you by your side and manhandling you with ease so you can lay on your stomach

"Lo...logan no...no more, please...I can't"

You beg with no hope

"Well tough luck honey...I'm just getting started"

He takes out his waistband before grabbing your delicate wrists and tieing them with it, harshly tug on the end of it to make it fit, than without any patient unbuttoning his pants and taking his cock out

He'll place his hand around your stomach and lifting you up just enough...his palm placed on your lower stomach yet again, with his other hand he guid his cock through your foldes, closing his eyes from the pleasure of the contact before he tease the tip in you making you cry harder from pain and pleasure

His hand than came up of your back, caressing the skin before going through your hair and pushing your head in the mattress as his tip rest inside of you, your walls pulsing around it repeatedly, a deep growl skipping from his chest at the feeling

"So perfect for your old man aren't you?now deep breath...Big stretch"

He talks you through it while pounding into you like a man possessed, at one point grabbing your neck again and pulling you so your back leans on his chest while the pathetic sound of "uhuhuhuh" skips you, one hand choking you and the other still on your stomach feeling the bulge he makes every time he fucks into you

"My perfect little toy...mine to fuck...mine to destroy"

He whispers in your ears before biting on it and that's the last thing you remember tomorrow when you wake up in his strong arms caging you

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[ssentimentals]

seungcheol and reader, hurt prompt - 24 and suggestive prompt - 35.

hope you're doing welll!!! you're writing is so goood btw : ) keep it up!!!!

hello! i am doing well, thanks for asking dear, hope you are too :) thank you for the kind words and thanks for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt/suggestive prompt: 'why won't it just stop?' - 'bite me.' 'don't tempt me sweetheart.'

anger used to feel like fire: it burned you from the inside, made you want to scream and shout and destroy. now anger feels like sharp knife slowly twisting in your back: it brings tears to your eyes and makes it hard to breathe. 'why won't it just stop?' you question out loud.

seungcheol is the only person in the room and he's the one who's twisting that knife in your back; he's the one who you wish you didn't love so much for it to hurt like that. 'you're refusing to see my side,' he says, voice full of remorse. 'you don't listen to me. i keep on trying to tell you-'

'oh, spare me, seungcheol!' you interrupt, rolling your eyes. 'it's always me who is not listening, always me who is apparently not understanding enough. and you're an angel, aren't you?' you pause, meeting seungcheol's gaze. there's a clear warning there, but you are hurting too much to care. 'why are you looking at me like that, huh? what you're gonna do? bite me?'

seungcheol looks very close to doing exactly so, to be honest. 'don't tempt me, sweetheart.' his voice is cold despite the petname. 'i know that you're angry-'

'i am not angry, seungcheol.' you interrupt again. 'i am hurting. do you hear? hurting. not like you care though.'

his patience snaps at this and he rushes towards you, fuming. 'you think i don't care?' he asks, throwing hands up. 'you think i don't? i'm still here, trying to make us talk, trying to make up despite your bratty ass not helping at all. this is how 'not caring' looks for you?' you turn, ready to leave the room, when he grabs your wrist: 'you are not leaving.'

'seungch- oh my god!' you shriek, when he suddenly lifts you up. 'put me down!'

'no, we will try to leave again and i am so, so fucking done with this.' he starts carrying you towards the living room, ignoring your slaps on his back. 'a little bit less resistance would've been appreciated.'

you don't even have words to say. seungcheol pretty much dumps you on the sofa and stands close, preventing all ways for an escape. 'you will talk and i will listen,' he says strictly. 'and then i will talk and you will listen. no one is interrupting anyone. clear?'

you nod. he nods back and crosses arms over his chest, staring down at you. 'go ahead then. start.'

and you do.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[lavender-bun]

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You were boiling with jealousy. You just wanted to have fun drinking and smoking with your friends and boyfriend and everything had been fine until you got a glance of some kook bitch flirting with JJ, batting her lashes at him stupidly and you already had your fist clenching by your side. Your grip tightening on the red solo cup, chugging down the rest.

Kie, Sarah, and Cleo followed your gaze and all knew it won't take long until you snap. You trusted JJ, it's just that you can't stand the fact that many girls or past flings on the island still tried making their shot even though they knew he's not on the market anymore.

You could see the annoyance on JJ's face but he was still being nice about it, which you cherish him for but also wished he would just walk away from her and leave her there dumbfounded.

You were really trying to keep your cool but then she had the audacity to touch his arm. That was it. Throwing the cup on the ground and ignoring Kie's scolding you marched over to where the boys were standing.

Pushing the girl's hand off JJ not so gently you stood between the two, your arms crossed over your chest while JJ wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Stay the fuck away from my man and go look for some kook dick instead of using pogues just so you can feel some type of power." You glared at her.

"Oh really? And that's coming from someone whose mom had practically slept with the whole island. I don't doubt you're any better-" Your fist made contact with her face before she could finish her insult, and you watched her fall onto the sand.

The boys shouted in surprise and you didn't let it end there, getting on top of her and grabbing her by her shirt with one hand.

"You ever take my family in your mouth again imma make sure you won't leave the hospital for a while, got that?" You whispered to her before feeling JJ wrap his arms around your middle to hoist you up and off her.

"Easy now, mama. Think she heard you loud and clear. C'mon, let's go." JJ carried you away while you kept cussing at the girl, making sure that the others on the bonfire see what happens when they mess with you.

After your little altercation, everyone decided it was better to call it a night and make your way back to the Chateau.

JJ went to hold your hand but quickly let go when you hissed in pain, instead he grabbed your wrist holding it up to look at your bruised knuckles. He smirked, kissing each of your knuckles gently.

"All that trouble for me, huh?" He teased and you rolled your eyes but smiled at him.

"Shut up. You would have done the same if any guy had approached me."

"True." He chuckled and when you tried to get out of his hold he stopped walking, pulling you against his chest. "I gotta admit, what you did there was pretty hot."

You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss while his hands went to squeeze your ass. Your little make out session got interrupted by John B clapping his hands to get your guys attention.

"C'mon, you lovebirds. You can mingle later, there are people who have a busy day ahead."

"Oh and you are one of them?" You raised an eyebrow at the brunette.

"Yeah, someone has to take care of your hangover asses tomorrow and that's probably me as I'm the most sober one here." He flicked your forehead and you slapped his hand away laughing.

"Better be careful bro or you'll be her next victim." JJ warned with a smirk placing his arm over your shoulders, kissing the side of your head.

"I think I broke her nose-"

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Requested by: @tracymbcm (I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this 😭 hope you still like it the way it came out)

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

For JJ Maybank:

@tracymbcm @spideysimpossiblegirl @chiaraanatra

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 5

Source for pic

Imperfect 5 🔞

Word Count: 4531

Tags and Summary can be found here.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Notes: It seems like every new chapter I post from this story has a NSFW warning. Do I regret it? Not at all... But then again, and I can't stress this enough, let's just enjoy these chapters for a while!

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

Divider by @cafekitsune

Kid: Come over, Sparkles. I want to show u smth.

The text comes after lunch, at the time you usually show up at the garage. Kid must’ve realized you were a no-show and sent you the message. You don’t answer, ghosting him so he understands you’re still slightly pissed at him, but just the fact that he reached out means that he wants to move on. 

You actually consider not going because things with Kid are becoming frustratingly weird. You’ve been flirting since the first day you met, but it’s clear that all this tension needs an outlet. And if he’s not willing to let the attraction run its course, then it’s bound to explode. 

Plus, you still don’t know the exact reason he pushed you away yesterday, other than the lame explanations he provided. 

So, is it wise to be standing outside the garage in the middle of an infernal heatwave when you already know you won’t be able to control yourself near Kid? 

Probably not. 

But here you are. 

The air outside is stifling. There’s not even a hint of a breeze, and the newscaster recommended that the population remain indoors unless it was absolutely necessary to leave the coolness of your home. Is it absolutely necessary? 

Not at all. 

And yet, here you are. 

Because your reasoning is neither rational nor enlightened where Kid is involved, a heatwave would be no different matter. There’s a yearning inside you for this man that you don’t quite understand. Frankly, you don’t even want to give it too much thought, afraid of it being more real than what you’re willing to admit. 

You’re dressed in light clothes, thin material, and a lot of exposed skin, yet sweat is already dripping from your nape to your back, from your temples to your neck, and into your cleavage. It’s unbearably hot.

The garage gate and door are both closed, and you hope that inside, the air feels cool and fresh instead of damp and smothering. You quickly realize that it’s only wishful thinking when you push open the scalding hot steel door and are greeted with nothing but a waft of warm air. 

“Kid?” you try, ignoring the churning sensation in your stomach.

“Back here.”

Closing the door and taking a deep, calming breath, you walk towards Victoria, dropping your purse on the nearest workbench and reveling in the slight drop in temperature. You’re casually wiping the sweat accumulated on your neck when you see him. Kid is leaning over the open hood of Victoria, loud music blasting in the garage, and two fans blowing hot air around. 

He’s fucking shirtless. 

Denim jeans hang low on his waist, and his back muscles bend and ripple as he tweaks something inside the hood. He’s glistening with sweat, beads dripping shamelessly from his damp hair to his broad back. When he turns, the world tilts, and you stop breathing. 

You’re ogling. You know he’s going to tease you for it, but you can’t tear your eyes away. 

Most of the sleeveless shirts you’ve seen him wear allowed you to glimpse the extent of the scar that runs from his neck to his chest. What you didn’t know is that he has another one running from under his pec and across his stomach, disappearing into his jeans. 

How far does that one go?

And holy fucking shit, this shouldn’t come as a surprise, but he’s freaking ripped. All beefy, robust muscle with broad shoulders and defined everything! 

You have to swallow hard so you don’t drool, curse, or both, but Kid’s not teasing you for all the ogling you’re doing. He’s ogling you back. 

“Fuckin’ hot, eh?” he mutters, not a drop of amusement in his deep, rumbling voice. 

“Torrid.” Is he referring to the weather?

Are you?

A few charged seconds pass, but neither of you moves to alleviate the tension, so you speak. “What did you want to show me?”

That about breaks the spell, because Kid blinks twice, and then his shit-eating grin makes an appearance, making sure the kaleidoscope of freaking, stupid butterflies living in your stomach takes flight all at once. 

The hell? Why butterflies? Up until now, all the ‘stirrings’ had been located in your lower abdomen, or even lower than that. Butterflies in the stomach mean something else. Something you don’t want to face at the moment, so instead, you force your legs to walk forward when Kid moves to the side and points inside the hood. 

“We’re givin’ Victoria her heart today.” Your mouth slackens, and you let out an elated whoop before rushing the rest of the steps. Sure enough, inside the hood stands a beast of an engine. It’s so big, it looks like it barely fits. Tubes twist and turn from its sides like veins giving it life, and sure enough, it does look alive. Like a breathing, living part of Victoria. It looks powerful enough to roar on its own. 

“It looks good!” You wish you could add something, but you don’t know the first thing about engines, anyway. 

“Sweetheart, it looks better than good. It’s fuckin’ epic. This right here is a 426 HEMI V8.” You raise your brow, but the way Kid is talking about it must mean it’s a hell of an engine. “Loud as fuck, capable of makin’ the ground shake when ye start her up.”

You nod and smile, and Kid realizes he’s losing you. “It’s a powerhouse of a fuckin’ engine.”

You nod again and let out a strained chuckle. “Okay, okay, I get it.” You don’t.

Kid grunts. “Imagine this. Yer at a bar, drinkin’ a few beers–”

“Cocktails. I might be drinking cocktails if I’m at a bar. And who’s with me–”

“Don’t matter!” Kid sighs, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as you stifle a laugh at how easily you always manage to rile him up. “Yer drinkin’ a few cocktails,” he grunts, “and a guy sits beside ye. He looks nice, a smooth talker, buys ye another drink, slowly tries to win ye over.”

You nod, biting back the amusement and the witty words, just to see where he’s going with this. 

“He’s okay, basic. That’s yer base engine. Finishes the job, don’t impress, yer not gonna call him back.” Kid winks, and you snort, leaning your hip against Victoria so you can stare at him. 

“Now…” Kid’s chuckle turns devious. “This mean motherfucker right here is the one that demands yer attention. He’s not nice, not even much of a talker, let alone a smooth one. He intrigues ye, impresses ye.” Kid leans over, the musky scent of his sweat overpowering the metallic scent that usually accompanies him. You have to force your eyes to remain locked with his instead of dropping to his lips. 

“He not only finishes the job, but makes sure ye finish first.” Kid’s eyes do drop to your lips, and your breath hitches. “And second… and third. Ye’ll definitely be calling him again.”

Somehow, you find your voice amid the suffocating heat - an impossible task since his words travel straight to your core. “So, your engine is the dangerous boyfriend you don’t bring home for the holidays?”

“Aye.” Kid’s breath fans your eyelids, and you catch a glimpse of his twitching hand. “And he’ll ruin all the other engines for ye. No other will measure up.” His jaw ticks and his throat bobs. “He’ll wreck ya.”

Fuck. You’re not talking about engines anymore, are you?

“I still want to try it…” you breathe out. As soon as you see Kid flinch and something dark cross his eyes, his body language already anticipating that he’s about to put distance between the two of you, you bite your lower lip in regret. Then, instead of giving him a chance to deflect and escape, you pivot. “Let’s hear it purr, then.”

He watches you for another moment with that unreadable expression in his eyes, then nods, pulling away and breaking the spell. 

“Grab yer panties, they’re gonna wanna drop.” You can’t help but chuckle as Kid sits in the driver’s seat, the leather creaking slightly and adjusting to his weight. You can’t take your eyes off him, though. His prosthetic hand wraps around the steering wheel while the other one finds the gear stick, wiggling it to neutral as his leg muscles tighten, pressing the pedal.

Then, his hand rises to the keys in the ignition, and he makes eye contact, a cheeky grin commandeering his mouth, though something darkens his gaze as his eyes meet yours. When he flicks his wrist and Victoria awakens, the whole garage trembles. 

It’s loud. It’s powerful. She’s a beast, just like he said she’d be. 

Kid presses the gas pedal down a few times, and you can practically feel the heat bursting from the engine. Her roar envelops you and sends a shiver down your spine. Her heart is beating to life, and fuck it, yours is right there along for the ride. 

“Ye hear her purr?” Kid gloats, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in. 

“That’s not purring, Kid. She’s a beast trying to escape its enclosure.” Your hand makes contact with Victoria, and it trembles, sending shivers up and down your spine. You’re in awe. “She’s perfect.” 

Kid is still watching you, but his grin falters, and he lets out a curse so low you barely make it out. He turns off the ignition and gets out, stopping beside you, his frame towering over yours.

You look at him with flushed cheeks. Watching Kid handle Victoria like that was way more arousing than you thought it would be. With a shaky inhale, you press your thighs together to try and alleviate some of the tension there.

Kid notices. Of course he does. 

He grins again, closes the hood, and takes one step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Told ya ye’d drop yer panties.”

You can't focus on anything else now. There’s only Kid and the smoldering intensity of his eyes. Victoria feels warm to the touch, but it's nothing compared to the raging fire that's consuming your very being. 

“Kid.” His name comes out of your lips like a prayer. A whisper of a word, a plea. 

He hesitates, his eyes piercing you as his throat bobs. His hand is on Victoria's hood, and it's inching closer to yours. There's a battle somewhere inside him; you can see it clearly. His body inches closer to yours in agonizingly slow movements as his lips form a scowl and the lines between his brows tighten.

Then your hands touch. It's electric. 

Kid closes his eyes for a brief second and exhales deeply. “Fuck it.”

Both his hands find purchase on the back of your thighs as he lifts you up and sets you down on Victoria's hood. Then his flesh hand curls around the back of your neck, fingers entwining with your hair. Your breaths mingle, and he lets out a guttural noise, trying to hold on to any semblance of restraint. 

He can't. 

His lips crash into yours with longing and desperation, drawing a whimper from your mouth. Your hands grip his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents on his skin. More. You need more. 

Kid slots himself in the middle of your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to your core. You both groan at the touch as it sends shivers up and down your body. His fingers curl around your hair, and he grips it, tilting your head so that he can deepen the kiss. 

A flick of his tongue and a nibble on your lower lip have you panting, allowing him to explore as he takes your tongue in his. Your palms find taut, hard muscles, firm to the touch, and hotter than a furnace. When his prosthetic hand cups your breast, you roll your hips and grind your cores together, melting into another whimper. 

“Fuck,” Kid mutters against your mouth, and you pull him back into the kiss. You don't want to give him time to think this through, too afraid he'll push you away again. 

“Let go,” you whisper between rolls of your tongue, your hands expertly unbuckling his belt. Kid hesitates, pulling back, and you inhale sharply as your fingers tremble against the button of his jeans. 

Then he breathes, closing his eyes. When he opens them back up, it's all fire and desire again. Hands find the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and getting rid of it. His mouth sucks and bites your nipple through the fabric of the bra and you chant his name in a moan. He curses low against your skin, peppering bites and suckling on every bit of it, muttering in a voice so thick with accent so pronounced you can barely make out a sane word. 

You arch your back for a moment, melting into his touch, and then your hand slips inside his boxers. He grunts against your neck, and his hands tighten their grip on your waist when you squeeze him. He's hard as a rock, girthy and veiny, and you whimper with anticipation. “Kid, I want you.” Your words sound like a prayer again, like a hymn you want to sing over and over. 

“Aye, fuck, I want ye too.”

And any doubt you had about him pushing you away again vanishes as his hand finds its way inside the waistband of your bottoms. His breath hitches, and his words are like gravel in your ears. “Yer soaked.” You can only hum incoherently as his fingers stroke your core, pushing your panties to the side and pressing lightly against your throbbing clit. 

“Oh, God,” you moan loudly, tilting your head back and stroking him at the same rhythm as he fingers you. 

“Yer gonna scream my name?” Kid pants against your ear, and you barely register it. He's taking up all the space, his scent, his body, his fingers; God, his fingers. “Use yer words.” He pinches your clit with his index finger and thumb, and you cry out in pleasure. 

“Yes, Kid, yes!”

You're nearly there. The tension has been building up so high and coiled so tight, you know you're going to fall fast. Your head lolls forward against his shoulder as you let out a lot of incoherent words and pants. 

Almost… almost. 

BANG! 

“Fuck!” 

THUD! 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” 

CLANG! 

“Jesus Christ!”

Kid stops. You bite your lower lip, horrified. Then, you both look towards the entrance of the garage and freeze. Killer is covering his eyes with one hand, and the other one is outstretched, trying to find the garage door and knocking over gallons of oil, tools, and everything in his path. 

“For crying out loud, you two! Doors have locks!” His voice is about an octave higher than it should be, and he keeps banging into stuff until he lets out another string of curses and gives up. Opening his eyes, he finds the door and leaves, flustered, embarrassed, and stressed. Curses still flying about.

Kid groans and exhales heavily while you stifle your snickers against his chest. Unfortunately, the tension of the moment has dissipated in a cloud of comedic relief, but you know it won't take much to build it back up. 

Your eyes are still glinting with mirth when you look up at Kid, cupping his cheeks in your hands so he can look at you. 

Your stomach lurches and your heart nearly skips a beat with what you find there. Kid is withdrawn again. His eyes bear a detached coldness accentuated by the downturned scowl on his lips. You're already shaking your head before he even speaks. 

“This was a mistake.” Fuck. “It was the heat, the fuckin’ tension,” Kid grunts, running a hand over his face and handing you your top with the other. “We can't do this,” he hisses. 

There it is. He’s pushing you away again. 

“Why the hell not?” you counter, crumpling the top in your hands, demanding that he look at you while all he's doing is avoiding your gaze. 

“I told ye why before!”

“It’s not good enough! Don’t push me away, Kid…” You sigh. “We don’t have to commit to anything, and it also doesn’t need to be a one-time thing if you don’t want it to be. We can just take it one step at a time, see where it goes.”

Kid shakes his head, his eyes on your legs as he tries to find his words. “I…”

“Let’s just give it a go…” You place your hand against the hard planes of his chest. You mean what you said. You might be turning the order of things around and starting something at the end, but it’s okay. Kid doesn’t strike you as the type to commit to a serious relationship anyway. One step at a time feels like the right pacing. “What do you think?”

He sighs, his flesh hand raises up and hovers over yours. He seems conflicted, and for a moment, you believe he’s about to hold your hand in his, to let you in. But then he scrunches his brows, curses, and shoves your hand away from him. “I'm all dark, aye? Yer light! Yer good! I wreck things.” Kid disentangles himself from your legs, buttons his pants and belt buckle, and heads straight for the cabinet in search of a bottle. 

“That's not true.” Your words burn your throat as you slide off the hood of Victoria, following him. 

The bottle slams against the workbench with enough strength to almost shatter it as he turns to you. “Don't pretend to know me. Ye don't know who the fuck I am. What I'm capable of.”

You stomp towards him, eyes blazing with fury, the heat of desire replaced by rage. “That's not what I was implying!” Kid's jaw clenches, and his eyes lose a bit of their edge. “I'm the one who’s not like that! I'm not all light! Don't put me on a fucking pedestal because I don't care for the fall!” You dress your top with trembling fingers and can't quite tell if the prickling behind your eyes is fury or sadness. “God!”

“We can't happen,” Kid groans, taking a sip from the scotch. “It's too fuckin’ complicated.”

“You're the one making it complicated! What happened to fun?” But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you know without a shadow of a doubt that you don't want just fun. Somewhere along those lazy afternoons working on Victoria, you really warmed up to Kid. 

You like him. 

“We're friends, Sparkles. Let's not fuck that up.” There's a finality to his words, signaling the end of the discussion. You're fucking pissed. 

“Is that really the problem?” Kid doesn't answer you, his gaze hardens, and he takes another sip. “Fine.” Turning on your heel, you head towards the door. “I just think you're too much of a coward to give whatever we have a shot.”

-*-

Kid paces the garage back and forth. He tried to work on Victoria again after you left, but he couldn't concentrate long enough to do it. Your words echoed in his head like a beacon of clarity. 

A coward. 

A fucking coward. You were right, obviously. Every one of his hook-ups had been just that, hook-ups. Nothing flashy or big, nothing that makes him think or feel. Just a way to blow off steam. 

But you… Fuck. You make him feel everything. It's like you've clawed your way inside his chest and refuse to leave. It's like you're in every single thought he has, from the moment he gets up to the moment his head hits the pillow. 

He knows you're not just a fling. He understands that you're no simple hook-up. You're real. You're something so good he knows you're not for him. He doesn't deserve goodness. 

Not after what he did. 

Kid smashes the bottle of scotch he's been nursing against the far wall, not caring about broken glass or spilled liquid. His hand flies to his pocket, and his finger hovers above Killer's contact for a few seconds. 

He could vent. Killer is the best listener. But he's also the best at delivering hard truths, and damn it… Not tonight. 

He scrolls and frowns when he finds the contact he's looking for. He picks up after the third ring. 

“Well, well. Eustass Kid. It's been a while.”

“Cut the shit, Apoo. I need a location and the time it starts,” Kid growls into the phone, his hand busy tapping the workbench. 

“Motherfucker, you haven't called in months, and you think I can get you a slot, just like that?” Apoo snickers. 

“I know ye can. People pay good money for the show I put on.” 

He fucking hates Apoo. But he needs this, he needs him for this. 

“Fine. Midnight. Abandoned warehouse near the docks. You know the place.”

Kid doesn't answer in confirmation, he just turns off the call and throws the phone into the workbench. Gripping the edge of it with both hands, he lets his head hang, his eyes closing shut as the echo of your words blurs the edges of his mind. 

“Fuck!” Kid shouts, banging the workbench with his prosthetic hand and gritting his teeth. He allows himself another five minutes of mindless self-loathing. Then he grabs the keys to his bike and leaves the garage.

-*-

The first punch shakes him up. 

The man who delivered it is scrawny but as fast as a fucking mouse. Kid smirks. The pain from the jab spreads slowly across his jaw, rattling the bones in his head. 

It’s not enough.

The acrid scent of sweat is barely noticeable over the pungent tang of the iron - blood. For a moment, the sounds from the cheers drown out the echo of your words, and all Kid can focus on is the pain. 

“Finish him off, Eustass!” someone yells.

“He’s a fucking wimp!” another voice.

The crowd rounds up the blood-splattered ring. If, to some, the gesture might feel suffocating and overwhelming, to Kid, it’s just fuel to his rage. It’s exactly what he needs. 

The little mouse hits him with another uppercut, and Kid keeps grinning. He lets him have his fun, and it’s not until Kid feels like he’s not getting what he needs from this lanky piece of shit that he finally strikes. 

One punch from Kid, and it’s over. 

The crowd cheers, and Kid scowls. It’s not enough. “Next fucker!” he roars, and the crowd roars back with him.

They come and come again, sometimes in groups of two or three. And Kid finishes them off, one after another, until his knuckles are a raw mess of flesh and bruises; until his eyes feel heavy and his mouth is sticky with blood. 

He fights dirty. Not fair or pretty. He fights like a man who’s got nothing to lose - who already lost everything. 

And as the night wears on, he realises none of this is helping. He doesn’t feel better, he doesn’t feel relieved. 

He just feels empty.

-*-

“Why is he so stubborn?” You thank the waitress for the drink and then shove the straw into the plastic cup, ignoring the screeching agony it produces, sloshing the liquid around with it. 

Killer shrugs, his straw hidden behind the Metallica bandana he wears today, and you hear him slurping his drink before he answers you. 

“That’s the million-dollar question,” he mumbles with a heavy sigh. “I’ve known him most of our lives, and that’s a quality he was born with.”

You take out the straw and continue to stab the lid of the plastic cup as if it personally offended you. 

“I just don’t get it! He keeps sending me mixed signals. He pushes me away, but then flirts back. He doesn’t want to commit, but he also doesn’t want to have a little bit of fun. What does he want?” With one last stab, the plastic lid groans and breaks. You curse and shove the drink away, not really thirsty anyway. 

Killer leans back on the red plastic bench of the diner you’re sitting in. He was the one who called, but you started to vent about Kid the moment you both sat down. It’s like he knew you needed to talk. 

“Kid…” Killer seems to be gathering his thoughts before continuing. “He’s difficult. He doesn’t like vulnerability and avoids feelings like the plague.”

You grunt in agreement, having been a witness to his actions firsthand. 

“He’ll never admit it, but you’re good for him. I see it,” he lets out a small chuckle. “Hell, I’ve told him this.”

“Whatever,” you mumble and steal a fry from Killer’s portion since you told the waitress you didn’t want any. “He didn’t seem very interested in continuing whatever it was we started. I'm not even sure where we are in our friendship since I called him a coward. I’m so pissed at him.”

“He’s going to want to move past what happened without even addressing it. Next time you see him, it’s like nothing was ever wrong.”

“Wow, that’s healthy.”

“It’s how he always dealt with things. It’s his way of escaping, of avoiding.” Killer shrugs once but then pins you with his tantalizing blue gaze, your name leaving his lips softly, demanding your attention. “Don’t give up on him.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You don’t want to give up on Kid, but does he want you to keep pushing?

“Why is he like this? He told me he was dark… that he wrecks things. What happened to make him think that?”

Killer turns to the window, watching cars wind by for the longest time. You keep stealing his fries, waiting for his answer. 

“I can’t be the one to share that with you. It has to come from him,” he says, and there’s a finality to his words that stops you from inquiring further, so you nod. “But he’s very hard on himself and doesn’t think he deserves good things. Prove him wrong, City Girl.” The small lilt in his voice tells you he’s smiling, even though you can’t see it.

You exhale deeply and snatch another fry. Killer’s shoulders shake with mirth as he pushes the basket of food closer to you. “So, you’re telling me I should just stomp inside the garage and kick some sense into his stubborn butt?”

“Yes. And if you’re going to actually do that, please let me tag along. I’d love a video.” You snort at his words and pop another fry into your mouth. 

“Prove him wrong…” you mutter, deep into your thoughts. This could go very badly. You know you’re already feeling much more than attraction for that stubborn man. If you keep hanging out with him, laughing and flirting, you just know that he’ll insert himself deeper and deeper inside your skin. 

If you keep trying and he keeps pushing you away… how long until he pushes so far that your heart breaks?

But what if he lets you in?

What if it works?

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @dazzlingstarlight23 @bearg-bia @babyboofangirl @praline357 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @traffys-heart @cherileecore @violetmatcha

Check out @igiulss sketch of shirtless Kid and wipe the drool off your chin!

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|Chapter 6|

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Pillow Talk

Astarion x F! Tav

18+ complicated/developing feelings, intimacy, heavy petting, urgent sex, dry humping, public sex (kinda), dirty talk, coming in pants (m!), implied trauma, miscommunication, tenderness, porn w/o plot

Tav innocently offered to help Astarion with his morning routine. But things get very close, and Astarion is shocked how her sweet face belies the sinful mouth she has...

-

"So you fill in your eyeline, right?"

He looked up from his book.

"Pardon?"

She was wiping the stray blood off of her neck with her fingers. Startling him when they slid into her mouth.

They had struck up a routine, he drank and she stayed to chat or just lay in quiet in his tent for a while.

This platonic exchange was new to him, but he found it surprisingly comfortable. Even looking forward to seeing her. Big doe eyes peeking under the flap of his tent, asking for entry.

She pointed good naturedly at him, licking her fingers clean. His eyes locked on her mouth.

"Your eyes. Your lashes are naturally white, yeah?"

They were, but he was a mite distracted.

Tav was... deceptive in nature. All eyes and lips. Her voice a bright chirp. Freckles and dimples. A beauty that was fit to the innocence of summer.

But as he got to know her found that she was more debauched. Always willing to cause chaos, down for anything.

Even shocking him sometimes with the things that would come out of her pouty flushed lips.

The contrast was... interesting.

"Why do you ask?" He intoned, looking back to his book in feigned disinterest.

"Well, I could help. It must be hard without a mirror."

"Interesting. And what would you gain from this exchange?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to fuck you Astarion."

He blinked.

She had brushed off his advances by turning the tables before. He came at her with honeyed words and she called his bluff, upping the ante with crude huffed words in his ear until he walked away flustered.

It vexed him to no end. To not only be bested but also how her words shot straight to his groin.

"You sure about that?" He smirked, unable to help himself.

She smiled Cheshire at him. Started pulling her shirt open. "You want me to make you scream, Astarion?" The last of her words coming out a loud moan. A dare.

"Would you pipe down?" He admonished, voice coming out a harsh whisper.

She giggled, closing her shirt again. The sliver of the curve of her breast hidden again.

His ears were flushed, closing his book.

She sat back, legs tucked under her. All innocent again.

"So...?" She sing-songed.

"Okay, fine." He huffed, acting terribly put upon.

"Yay!" She chirped.

He bit back the smile forming on his lips.

"If you so insist, you can assist me in the morning. Now begone from me, demon."

She giggled again, high rising bells. Waving her fingers at him as she retreated from his tent.

Gods, what a nuisance.

Completely ignoring the tightness in his leathers he blew out the candle.

The sounds of morning accosted him, groaning in his tent.

He lifted the flap to get some air but laid back down with a dramatic flop.

From the window of his tent, he watched his campmates mill around.

Only Karlach excitedly preparing for her day, greeting with big smiles and hands clasped on shoulders. Everyone else a smeared facsimile of alertness.

Tav was still in her long sleep shirt, but mostly put together. Hair in a long plait down her back, face washed. Talking to Halsin, though he couldn't hear their conversation. Halsin's eyes gazing down at her in clear desire.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him, basically standing on tiptoes.

At one point, she lifted her arms to stretch above her head.

He saw the druids eyes dip to her arched chest hungrily then back up to her eyes, carrying on the conversation.

Astarion felt a heat in his chest. Then shook his head.

This was none of his concern. She was beautiful, of course their campmates wanted her.

She looked over, seeing his tent open. Her eyes brightening. Opening her mouth to say something to Halsin then bouncing away towards him.

He saw how the druids face slightly fell and felt a petty thrill in his chest.

"Good morning~" She sung. "May I come in?"

It felt good, if not foreign, to be asked permission.

"Of course, darling."

She climbed inside with a little wiggle.

He turned to his chest, pulling the small washbasin out.

As he began his morning routine, she laid on the floor of his tent, snuggling down into his newly freed blankets with a happy sigh.

She had to know how adorable she was.

He reveled these moments, where it was just them in a comfortable silence. It was intimate, but in a way that didn't make him feel like he was drowning.

He rubbed his face clear, his unmade hair falling down into his forehead. Sighing.

"What I wouldn't give for a working mirror." He grumbled.

"Well, let me see. I'll paint you a picture." She smiled, looking up at him from his bedroll.

Though he couldn't see himself, he suddenly felt exposed. Knowing his face was bare, his curly hair free of pomade and unruly from sleep.

He turned and looked down at her with a slight frown.

She sat up and took him in.

Of course she looked radiant. Her bare face giving her an even more entrancing layer of beauty.

He tried to not squirm under her gaze.

"Well, your eyes are very beautiful like this, the contrast of red and white suits you. Your lips are full and arched. Jaw sharp."

Her eyes drifting up to his hair. Tilting her head and smiling wide, her dimples on display.

"And your hair is so cute like this. Like a big sheep." She giggled.

"I am not a big sheep." He huffed. "How dare you."

She bit her lip, still smiling at him. "Altogether very handsome. It's a good look on you."

He suddenly wanted to kiss her and blinked away the thought in shock.

"So are you going to let me do your eyeliner now?" She asked, clearly excited.

"You know what you're doing?" He asked, handing her the smudging pencil.

"Just because I don't usually wear makeup while trudging through the woods doesn't mean I don't know how to use it." She teased.

"Well some of us can afford to take less effort it seems."

"Careful, that was dangerously close to a compliment." She laughed. "Here, lay back."

He laid against some propped pillows and she straddled over him.

Her face coming over his, gently holding his head still.

He knew she meant nothing by the position or the closeness. But his heart still phantom pounded.

"Look up." She hushed, lining the bottom of his eye with sure hands.

"You know, I get why you feel strange about your appearance." She spoke softly, face stern in concentration.

"People are weird about me too. Most people only give me the time of the day if they want to fuck me."

His eyes had drifted up to the roof of his tent but came back to hers at that.

"Fuck me then forget me. Thought that was how things were going to be for me for a long time."

She sighed. "Maybe it still is. If we didn't have tadpoles to keep us together I think half the camp would be culpable."

She had taken the air out of his lungs. Unknowingly mirroring his own thoughts to him.

"Sorry, that's not your problem." She murmured, switching to his other eye. Her tongue sticking slighty out of her mouth in concentration.

It wasn't, and yet he felt guilty. After all, he still was planning to seduce her. It hadn't been working, but still.

"And what if someone wanted to be with you and stick around?" He hushed.

She looked at him, pausing. Then smiling sadly.

"I don't know. I've never gotten that far." She shrugged. "Could be nice. Or a nuisance, depending on the person."

He laughed low in his throat.

"Okay, done." She leaned back, admiring her work.

"Oh, wait." She hushed, leaning forward again, lips so close to his he could feel their heat. Fingers smudging gently along the outer corner of his eye.

He leaned up thoughtlessly and slid his lips against hers.

She froze in shock, then slowly leaned into him. Moaning softly.

He cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her into him. Suddenly hungry and needful.

Aware of the tent flap still open, he turned his body over hers, shielding her from view.

Didn't need all of their companions spying on them, did they?

They pulsed into each other, all heat and slick. Tongues twisting, desperate pulls of hands. Panting.

His mind was full of nothing but spinning desire. A heady miasma of need.

He couldn't maintain decorum anymore.

With an impatient huff he kicked the tent wall, the flap falling closed.

Pulling his shirt off of his head he dove back into her. Lost in her velvet mouth, the lamb's ear skin of her thighs. All the soft little sounds she was making, sweet bird cries.

His hands pushed under her sleep shirt, gripping onto her plush hips. Pulling her into him with a low moan. Grinding his hard length into her soaked underclothes.

Her head fell back, gasping out choppy breaths.

He could tell she was trying to be quiet and it ignited more flames in his pelvis.

"Do keep your voice down, darling." He teased in her ear. Pushing her sleep shirt up more, cupping her breast.

She leaned forward and ran her tongue up the point of his ear, panting hot.

His eyes hitched back, groaning.

"I thought we were being quiet." She teased.

Evil. Evil woman.

"Oh, you're being nasty again?" He chided, hips rolling of their own accord now.

He was trying to maintain the upper hand here but he was flushed and panting. His purpose narrowed down to getting more, more, more.

"Oh you want nasty?" She purred.

She pulled on the waistband of his leathers, pulling him into her harder. Hips meeting his in time.

"How would you want me if we fucked? Hmm maybe you would bury your cock in my throat and let my sweet tongue lap at your underside till I was gasping."

Oh Gods.

His eyes squeezed shut, hips pistoning into her.

"Mmm, or maybe you'd want me on all fours, my slick greedy cunt taking your cock. Slamming your hips into my ass, seeing it jiggle with your thrusts."

She pulled his hand to her ass to make her point, suckling down on his ear.

He bit back a moan, hand gripping into the round plush flesh of her ass. Panting into her neck, bending her leg out with his. Pulling her open for him.

"Hmm, maybe not those." She hushed into the shell of his ear. "Maybe you want me to lick your nipple, suckling it in my hot tongue. Lave my tongue over your chest until your arching your back so pretty for me."

His breath caught in his throat, cock unbearably hard. Hips stuttering into her.

"Ohh," She smiled, looping a leg around his hip. "That's it."

She pulled down with her leg, his hips melded with hers now.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair she pulled taut, bending his neck open.

He was dangerously close, the hair pull nearly sending him over. Stifling the moan caught in the back of his throat.

"How hard would you shake for me when I fucked my fingers into you? Milking the agonizing pleasure from you. Spilling your spend in gushes on my bouncing tits."

He whimpered, gripping down into her hips and began spilling in thick ropes. Biting down into her shoulder to not cry out. Hard pulsing strikes of near tortuous pleasure. Ripping up through his body with merciless talons.

She held him steady as he shattered over her. Hushing encouragement into his ear.

His eyes had started to water, a lump suddenly in his throat. Startling himself.

He allowed himself one more moment of her warmth before pulling away. Sitting up and facing away from her. Forcing his breath slow and even.

"Hey," Her voice soft, pulling close to him but not touching. "Was that too much? I'm sorry."

"No, you were devine darling. Just needed to catch my breath. You wore me out, you wicked thing."

He held his hand hard to his chest, steadying himself. You're safe. You're here. You're safe.

She was quiet behind him, then planted a soft kiss on the curve of his shoulder, rising up.

"I've overstayed my welcome." She said knowingly. "Sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a second."

He wanted to tell her that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. He actually wanted her to stay, lay in that quiet again. But his body was all sharp edges, bristling.

She slid his shirt back to him and left his tent. "I'll keep my distance from now on, don't worry."

The way she said it, with a certainty of wrongdoing, like accepting a punishment. His heart ached for a moment.

Like she had wronged him.

The sweet thing.

No. No, he would find a way to fix this.

~

Part 2