#my chest hurts af and it was just a touch up

[synthetickitsune]

you can tell if a person is going through something by the number of tattoo appointments they're able to schedule withing three months aka episode 276854 of me being the ceo of questionable decisions lmao

[uzurakis]

hi hi it’s me again!! (yes I’m the nonnie w/the stalker request + ‘my friend thinks ur cute’ request :3) I’m here to request again!! reckless!reader with jjk men (yuta n Megumi yk the deal 🙏🙏) + bonus points if reader hides their injuries too! maybe reader was on a mission; got injured and didn’t tell jjk men, or reader was playing around on a frozen lake not giving af and it begins to crack, or reader straight up doesn’t look both ways while crossing the street n act like they have 9 lives (yuta ptsd fr 😭), or anything you wanna come up with :3 do what you like!

HIDING YOUR INJURIES FROM THEM?

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. i sure know the deal my beloved meguyuta nonnie (imma call u dat instead). i decided to go with the first idea of yours, i hope that’s okay!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you returned from a challenging mission, your body aching with every step. despite the pain gnawing at you, you plastered on a smile as you entered the room where megumi was waiting. he looked up, concern etched across his features.

fushiguro megumi has the term ‘worry’ in his vocabulary. he immediately called out, "you…” without saying any ‘hey’s or ‘hi’s, you were able to cut him off with your response. 

"it went alright, just a few scrapes," you replied, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries

but megumi wasn't fooled. his brows furrowed as he approached you, his eyes scanning your form. “you’re lying,” megumi grabbed your wrist firmly as he looked straight into your eyes. "those 'scrapes' look more like serious wounds," he said, you could literally hear him edged with frustration.

you swallowed, guilt creeping into your chest. "i’m fine," you confessed, avoiding his gaze and breaking free from his grip.

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "you're injured, and you’re still trying to hide it from me? seriously?" he scolded, frustration becoming more evident.

“fine then.”

he looked away, and you felt a twinge of regret at the way he responded. but then there was a change in his attitude. as he reached for the first aid kit, his demeanor softened and his irritation vanished. silently, he whispered, "let's get you patched up," megumi’s voice was soft yet stiff.

as he tended to your wounds in silence, the tension in the room dissipated. his touch was tender, his movements careful as he bandaged your injuries. when he finished, he looked up, green pupils meeting yours.

"you make me worry, you know that?" 

ITADORI YUUJI. you stumbled through the door, trying to hide the wince as pain shot through your side. itadori was waiting, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, but then furrowing with concern as he noticed your slight limp.

"baby, you're back! how did it go?" he asked.

you forced a smile, trying to brush off the pain. "good, thank god it was just a second grade curse," you replied, hoping he wouldn't see through your facade.

your boyfriend, though, remained unconvinced. "are you sure you're alright? you’re limping.”

you hesitated, but his genuine concern melted away your resolve. you felt bad for keeping it from him, but at last you said, "well, there might be a small injury, but it's nothing serious." 

instantly, itadori's expression softened, and he wrapped you in a tight hug that made you let out a small ouch. "don't hide these things from me," his breath warm against your ear. “let me help you tend your injuries, baby. do you need shoko or just an aid kit?”

GOJO SATORU. the mission had been tougher than anticipated, but you knew gojo would worry if he saw how badly you were hurt. so you played pretend and hoped it would be enough. gojo was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his usual smirk playing on his lips. his eyes, hidden behind his pitch black glasses, seemed to twinkle as he looked up at you. "oi, you're back earlier than i expected."

you nodded, keeping your movements slow and controlled. "yeah, managed to wrap things up quicker than i thought." he tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "really? no trouble at all?"

"none," you lied, forcing a laugh. "just the usual."

gojo's smile faltered, just for a second, but you caught it. he stood up and sauntered over to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "hey, you know," he began, voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, "i can see right through you, babe. you're hurt."

"i'm okay, satoru. really."

he reached out, gently but firmly taking your arm. "don't lie to me." his fingers brushed against a particularly sore spot, and you winced despite yourself. “look?”

"satoru, i didn't want you to worry—“

he cut you off, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still without causing more pain. "hm, too late for that, baby," he said with a mix of irritation and concern. "let me take care of you."

you sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "okay, but just... be gentle, alright?"

he led you to the couch, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you sit down. "i'm always gentle," he teased, but his eyes were serious as he examined your injuries. "you should've told me right away."

YUUTA OKKOTSU. he eyed you for a moment, his smile fading slightly. "babe, you alright? you seem a bit... off."

"just tired. it's been a long day." you waved a hand dismissively, nothing to worry, you wanted to tell him that.

yet, yuuta's gaze still lingered on you, eyes narrowing slightly. "alright," he said slowly, "if you say so."

you made your way to the bathroom, trying to move naturally despite the pain. you thought you had managed to convince him, but as you stood in front of the stall, trying to remove your clothes without aggravating your injuries, the man appeared in the doorway.

"let me help you with that," he said softly, moving to stand beside you.

you blinked, surprised. "yuuta, really, i'm fine. you don't have to—”" then he gently took your hand, eyes full of concern. "please, let me help you tend your wounds, babe.”

thinking again, you hadn't said anything about being hurt, but somehow he knew. "how did you..”

your boyfriend smiled faintly. "i could tell. i know you too well." his fingers brushed lightly over a bruise that was starting to show through your shirt. "you don't have to hide it from me."

you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and resignation. "i just didn't want you to worry."

yuuta shook his head, his expression tender. "i worry more when you try to hide things from me. so don’t do it again, you hear me, babe?”

@uzurakis

[stayinlimbo]

Limits

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, somewhat suggestive, allusions to sexual activities (?), hurt/comfort, mc is overwhelmed and showcases such symptoms as a result, self-indulgent af because i can word count: ~0.5k note:  this stuff can be scary, so remember that communication and consent are the sexiest things in a relationship ♡

As soon as your head hits the pillow, Minho knows something is different. Wrong. 

Your once fervent kisses slow, lips barely meeting to brush up against his. Wandering touches become hesitant from underneath him, your hands instead settling to stiffly drape over his shoulders. Your chest raises rapidly, pressing against him in short bursts, and Minho’s hand dancing along the hem of your shirt halts.

Releasing the fabric, he quickly leans back until he can see your face, carefully hovering over your taut form. And what he sees makes his heart plummet to the depths of his stomach. Wide, shifting eyes flit around the room, avoiding his concerned stare. You’re on the brink of hyperventilating, sucking in shallow breaths sure to make your lungs burn in exertion. Glistening tears pooling in your eyes catch the bedroom’s soft lighting, and Minho is frozen, unable to tear his gaze away and ask what is happening until you start subtly pushing against him.  

Snapping back into reality, Minho scrambles off you, barely noticing your arms fall limply to the bed, and lies on his side in the space beside you. “Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Minho soothes, bringing a hand up to tenderly cup your cheek. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, hoping the touch will comfort you, even if only the slightest, as his eyes hurriedly scan your body. His heart is beating out of his chest and the growing lump in his throat isn't helping when he doesn’t find anything irregular except the love bites he left on exposed skin. “What’s wrong?”

You snap your gaze up and finally meet his worried one. The rise and fall of your chest slows ever so slightly. “I don’t know,” you breathe, rushing your next words. “Can you hold me for a minute?”

“Of course.” Minho tucks his arm underneath you and wraps the other around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His fingertips lightly scratch the base of your neck as your shaking body relaxes in his embrace. You hide your face in his neck, immediately nuzzling further as if you’ve finally returned home—as if he was your sanctuary from the rest of the world. Minutes pass, and he feels the tension slowly leave your body. Your breathing gradually steadies, small puffs of air tickling his neck. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why, but I just can’t do it right now,” you murmur, lips grazing his skin. 

Minho stills, furrowing his brows before gently grasping your shoulder and pulling you back to look at him. “Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for telling me how you feel,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. Okay?”

He watches you nod in response but doesn’t break his stare.

“Okay,” you say.

Minho presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and gathers you in his arms again. “Good.”

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist : @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn @inlovewithstraykids @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

@hwangism143 @feelikecinderella @celebration88 @ssickmagnolia8

[thefandomthings]

❝𝐀𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Aomine Daiki x f!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive (It's Aomine, duh), fluff

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I need more knb fics, pls. This is my first time writing for Knb, so I hope it's okay

Masterlist

 It will take a lot for Aomine to get into a relationship after his last one, he’ll never admit it but he’s afraid of getting hurt. (Again)

 So consider yourself lucky my dear.

 Daiki is a person who loves something or someone quietly.

 He’ll never really say he loves you out loud unless you haven’t seen each other in a long time or if you/him are having a bad day.

 His love language is physical affection and quality time. He’ll always be touching you with an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand or his hand on your tit.

 Speaking of boobs, well all know he’s obsessed with them. He’ll constantly try and catch you changing, or put his head under your shirt while cuddling just to be near the girls, as he calls them.

 Daiki is also extremely protective over you. He wants to keep you safe all the time. He’s lazy af, but whenever you want to go out just to run and errand he’ll be on his feet ready to go. My man will deck someone for looking at you wrong even in the slightest way.

 He calls you Idiot, dummy, and moron if you do something stupid or dumb. He does it out of love cause he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

 Aomine only uses your first name if you two are having an argument, or having an important conversation. Other than that your are usually called Babe or Baby.

 Your nicknames for him are Bubby/Bubba, Dai, Baby, and Kiki to annoy him.

 You two go on arcade dates at least once a month. Or you two go and kick it at the hoops downtown. Aomine plays a lot of street ball and knows a lot of guys down there.

 If you don’t know how to play basketball, he’ll gladly teach you how.

 If you already know how, you play 1 v 1 all the time, Aomine always ends up winning. But he will help you improve your skills.

 Teases the crap out of you any chance he gets. Loves seeing your flustered face.

 Aomine is totally the type to whisper dirty things in your ear while out in public. Not to mention he will just randomly grope your chest or butt whenever he feels like it.

 He’s also the type to rest his arm on your head not matter your height. He will also mess up your hair and use your head as a joystick whenever you sit between his legs.

 Daiki is a pervert at heart, whenever you are wearing a skirt and come to see him while he sleeps on the rooftop he’ll sneak a peak underneath.

 I feel like he’s a boob and thigh guy all the way. He will happily die between your glorious thighs and tits.

 Randomly leaves bite marks anywhere he wants. Adores when you have hickeys on your neck, fills his ego to the brim watching people comment on the purple bruise on your neck.

 Fucking loves when your wear his extra jersey to his games. It’s the motivation he needs to get going. Will completely crush his opponents just to watch you cheer for him.

 Pouts when you don’t give him his morning kisses or if you get up during your 2hr cuddle sessions when he wakes up.

 I 100% believe he is half Hispanic. He definitely knows Spanish and will call you names like Puta or Pendeja.

 If his mom here’s him call you that just know he’s getting a tongue lashing and the chonclas getting thrown at his head.

 He gets his accuracy from his Mom.

 It takes awhile for his mom to like you, she doesn’t want anyone hurting her baby boy.

 After awhile, she’ll treat you as her own daughter, and even teach you Spanish.

 Bonus if you already know Spanish, that’s a +1 with his mom.

 His dad liked you instantly, you were a lot different then his old girlfriend and welcomed you with open arms.

 Daiki has his dad’s ego, it’s like looking at the same person anytime they compete with each other, which is almost always anything they do.

 Aomine will totally be at any of your games/meets if you play sports. Even if he is late, he’ll be there cheering you on.

 Get’s jealous easily, especially if you talk to Kagami. If looks could kill, Kagami would be dead.

 Will have you against the door of his room, or pinned to the bed whenever he gets jealous. He makes sure you know that you are his and only his.

 His room is a disaster, clothes, old school papers, blankets etc.

 He try’s to clean his room up a bit before you come over. It’s adorable, it usually doesn’t look to much different just the floor was clean cause he moved everything to the corner of his room and covered it with a blanket.

 Loves to get you small gifts. He saves up for months to get you a beautiful promise ring. And what made it even better, you got him a promise bracelet that he wears absolutely everywhere.

 He makes sure to take it off before a game or when does anything that could break it.

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl. I saw you were asking for whimsical!reader. The one that you did with James was so cute!!! Could we get another part to that? Also you’re one of my fave authors on here.❤️❤️

Hey babe, so honored! There are so many amazing writers on here, so I really appreciate you taking the time to read my stories :) Thanks for requesting love!

cw: hurt (not direly) animal

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 846 words

“Jamie, do we have any seeds?” James hears you enter through the front door. He turns down the TV to hear you better. 

“Seeds?” he asks. “Like, for gardening? I don’t think so, love.” 

“No, like sunflower seeds.” Your voice fades as you move into the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and closing. “Or actually, kale would do. Can I use some of your kale, please?” 

“What?” He gets up to go to you. “What are you making?” 

James finds you standing in front of the refrigerator, trying to tear open his container of kale with one hand and cradling an alarmingly complaisant-looking bird in the other. 

“Sweetheart,” James says slowly. You tilt your head at him. “Is that a baby bird?” 

“Of course not.” You smile guilelessly, eyelashes kissing at the corners. “Don’t be silly, I know better than to take a baby bird away from its nest. This is a bullfinch. It’s an adult, they’re just small.” 

He nods. “And why’ve you brought it inside, lovie?” 

“Because something’s wrong with it,” you say softly, as if wary of the bird overhearing. “It flew into Mrs. Hutchinson’s window—you know, the older woman down the way? Anyway, it’s alive, but I think it’s in shock or something. See how it’s letting me hold it in my hand?” 

James says that he does. 

“It shouldn’t be doing that,” you finish somberly.

You’re telling him. 

“But I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to touch wild birds,” he worries, fighting vigorously against the urge to take the thing from your hand. “They carry diseases, don’t they?” 

“I’ll wash my hands.” You finally get the kale open, taking out a few leaves and holding them in front of the bird. “I couldn’t just leave it, Jamie. Mrs. Hutchinson has a cat. What if it had found it all frightened like this?” 

James takes a breath and forces himself to remember that these are the things he loves about you. Though he does prefer when your kinder traits don’t come at the risk of avian disease. 

“It’s not eating,” you fret, watching as the poor thing’s reddish belly pumps with quick, tiny breaths. “Do you think we should give it some water too?” 

“Can’t hurt,” James agrees, grabbing a small dish and filling it from the tap. “Why don’t you bring our little friend outside? We can put this stuff on the ground and see if it’ll eat then.” 

He doesn’t add that despite its equanimous facade, the bird is probably scared shitless sitting in your hand like that. You take to his suggestion happily, leading the way out to James’ small porch. You set the bird down gingerly. James does his best to match your carefulness, placing the little dish of water and a few pieces of kale in front of it. 

“Come on, lovely,” you coo, voice extra soft and sweet for the small creature. 

James’ chest aches at the sound of it. If this bird dies, he’s going to have to arrange a whole funeral for your sake. 

“Let’s give it some space,” he says gently, wrapping his fingers around your waist to encourage you back towards the door. “It might be too scared to eat with us around.” 

You press your lips together as you nod. James nuzzles your hair compassionately. The pair of you sit on his doorstep in silence, you gnawing your lip raw and him reminding himself repeatedly not to hold your hand. After what feels like hours, the bird moves. 

Its head twitches towards where you sit, and then, without even touching the meal you’d set out for it, it flies off. 

Ungrateful prick, James thinks. 

The sigh that leaves you is so loud that he starts to panic before he sees the relief on your face. 

“It’s okay,” you say, not quite teary but looking dangerously close. 

“It is,” James affirms. He’s unable to keep from smiling, you look so adorably thrilled. “It may not have had much appetite, but you saved it, angel.” 

“Did you see the way it looked at us?” You’re awed, looking up at him with huge eyes. “It knew. It could tell we were the ones that helped it.” 

James isn’t sure he can get fully on board with that theory, but he’s not going to burst your bubble. 

“I’m sure it did,” he says, standing and taking your wrists in his hands. You get up too, and James holds your hands out away from you, shouldering open the door to go back inside. 

You follow him gamely. “What are we doing?” 

He leads you over to the sink, forcing you to keep your hands in front of you like a surgeon’s the entire way. “Washing your hands,” he replies. “Don’t need you falling ill from some rare bird disease.”

“I don’t think our friend would have given me any diseases,” you say, though you don’t resist when he holds your hands under the hot water, pumping soap into them. “It liked me, I think.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt it did, sweetheart. But just to be sure.” 

[sanjifucker42069]

OPLA!Sanji x Reader - Blowin'

Word Count: 4.6k

I cut down some of the less, y’know, important stuff (the plot lol)

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), fem!reader, awkward first times, awkward af, the reader is a dipshit. I’m ngl this isn’t one of those cute first time fics where virgin!reader is suddenly a sex goddess, you are legitimately an idiot. As usual, written with a plus size!reader in mind.

Sanji finds out you’re a virgin. You suck his dick. Congrats!

Sanji was going to fucking lose it. Out of all the possible scenarios Sanji never once considered Nami would take you out to a bar to pick up guys. He brooded as he nursed his drink, Zoro rolling his eyes at the display. Sanji just growled. Usopp looked between them.

"How about another round? 'Nother milk Lu? Hey Sanji, why don't you come with me? I saw some hot chicks up at the bar."

Sanji just shook his head brooding. He looked to where you stood with Nami, laughing at some guy's jokes. He felt stupid at how jealous he felt.

"Hey, Sanj, man. Nami isn't gonna reciprocate y'know?" Usopp offered lightheartedly. Zoro scoffed from next to him. 

"It's not about Nami for once."

---

When Sanji's eyes found you again he saw you alone with the same guy, nursing a drink. Now that Nami was gone he could see the atmosphere had changed, you didn't seem happy like before. He watched as the guy said something and you shrugged halfheartedly. The guy then proceeded to wrap his arm around you. Sanji had known you long enough to see how uncomfortable you looked. Anger flared in his chest. The final straw was seeing the guy trying to tug you out of the booth to leave. You looked so defeated, it hurt. He began stalking his way to your booth.

"C'mon sweetcheeks, let's leave this dump."

"I'm good thanks, I should get back to my friends."

"I already told you bitch, we're going. I didn't spend all this time fucking around to go home empty handed. You're lucky I even stayed once your hot friend left. I'm doing you a favour, so hurry the fuck up."

"No, I really don't want to." You began, the man snarled, grabbing your wrist.

"It wasn't a question. You owe me. I don't go for ugly, but a hole's a hole, and from the back you're probably passable."

You had tears in your eyes from embarrassment. This whole trip was a bad idea. You wish Nami would come back. As the man tugged on your wrist harder you heard that gorgeous voice ring out. You tried to hide your face so Sanji wouldn't see the tears in your eyes. That last thing you wanted was for the crew to think you're weak.

"That's no way to win hearts Sunshine. So uncouth, and frankly, disgusting behaviour."

"Who the fuck are you? How about you mind your own business?"

"And watch such a beautiful lady be treated that way?"

"Beautiful lady my ass. The only thing you can know for sure about girls like this is that their pretty pussy is untouched." The man barked out a laugh causing you to wince. He snaked his other arm to cup your breast over your dress. You saw something flash in Sanji's eyes. "And I know I'm gonna really enjoy these."  

You squirmed, before biting the man. He howled in pain, releasing his hold on you. You quickly made your escape, rushing to cling to Usopp and Luffy, crying. You felt pathetic. Embarrassed that all eyes were on you.

Sanji saw red. You blinked back tears as you called out to him. Sanji was protective of all of you, but he seemed especially so of you. You knew it was because he saw you as some kind of little sister. "It's okay Sanji. Really, let's just go home. Please."

"No." He fixed the drunk man with a freezing gaze. "You dare touch someone so out of your league? I asked you nicely to piss off, but now I'm going to fucking kill you."

Before you could react Sanji had kicked the man in the chest. You watched as he began ruthlessly kicking and stomping the man, muttering profanities and sentences you couldn't understand. With a final stomp he huffed. Zoro finally pried Sanji away. You saw Nami returning, fuming. If you weren't so traumatised by the night you would have laughed at how Zoro pried Nami away too, holding the two brawlers by the scruff as they fought against it, looking like wet cats.

You don't remember how you got home. You remember Usopp covering you in his coat and dragging you out of the bar. You remember apologising to Usopp, crying that you needed to go back. The last thing you remember was Luffy running to join you, scooping you up and starting the walk back to the Going Merry, you, falling asleep in his rubbery arms.

---

"Ah my dear, you're finally awake. I made you something to eat."

You smiled tightly at him, thanking him. The way you played with your food tugged at his heartstrings. You looked so mournful. He pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it, gripping the backrest. 

"C'mon lovely, don't make me have to feed you myself." He winked. Your lips twitched upwards performatively. Sanji frowned. "Look (name) about last night-"

"I'm sorry."

Confusion. "What?"

You cringed inward. "I'm....I'm sorry I ruined everyone's night."

"You didn't ruin anyone's night, that good for nothing prick did. Don't understand why you'd even go for a guy like that to be honest." He added bitterly. You frowned.

"I wouldn't normally. Everything moved so fast. He seemed nice...It was too late before I realised it's because he wanted Nami." Silence. "Once Nami left, I, well, I didn't want to cause a scene."

"So, what? You were just going to let him take advantage of you?"

You jolted, shocked. "No! No, I- there was no way he was going to-” 

“(Name), love, I know you can be a bit naive but-”

Your voice was small. “He said so himself! He..." you trailed off. "He didn't 'go for ugly girls'. And besides…he was right."

Sanji frowned, angry at the world. How could anyone make you believe that you weren't beautiful? That you didn't deserve some guy trying to take advantage of you? He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve

“There's no such thing as an ugly girl (name), and if there was, I can assure you you're not one of them.”

“Not that.” Sanji took in how you winced, trying to make yourself seem smaller.

What?

Sanji felt the wind knocked out of him.

You're a virgin?" He asked, clearly shocked. You bristled with embarrassment.

"Well...yeah, but I understand how it works! It's not such a big deal, I mean...I've just, I've never had the chance."

"Have you ever...y'know, at all? Not even a handy?" You shook your head. He flushed, you were completely pure.

He felt slightly sick at how his perverted thoughts twisted that. He could be your first, ruin you for all other partners. He could be the one to take your innocence. His cock twitched at the thought. Shame flooded him. You were his friend, his, admittedly, very cute friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you this way. His mind was racing with all the obscene thoughts he'd ever had, the deviant things he dreamed of. He was disgusting. You were too innocent, he'd felt guilty before, but now he felt like he was defiling you just by thinking about you.

You took his silence as pity and pointedly looked away from him, taking a deep breath.

"It's not like I don't want to. I do. But, ugh, it's so silly...no one has ever shown any interest. I'm not exactly a goddess like Nami."

"Darling, I don't believe no one has ever shown interest." He offered a smile. Gods if you only knew how badly he ached for you. How hard you made him. Now wasn't the time for him to blow your friendship over him thinking with his dick. You were being vulnerable.

"I don't need your pity Sanji. It's okay. You don't have to give me the 'everyone's beautiful in their own way' speech. There's more to me than my lack of experience! I'm a good fighter! I have talents, I don't need to be pretty. Just, sometimes, it'd be nice.". 

This wouldn't do. He had to try to fix this. He took your small hands in his, trying not to lose his breath at how warm they felt. Swinging them lightly, he stared into your eyes.

“You are a beautiful girl, you deserve way better than some kind of bastard like that. Men are pigs (name), you shouldn't trust any of them."

"I trust you."

Sanji froze. You peaked up at him shyly. He looked conflicted, and that caused you to smile sadly, misinterpreting the look. You withdrew your hands, fiddling with them in your lap. "I didn't mean that you should take one for the team Ji, I just meant that, well, I trust you. I don't think you're a pig."

"You shouldn't trust me." He lowered his voice. You stared at him, clearly taken aback. "I'm just as bad."

"No, you-"

"No. I'm an absolute pig darling. You aren't that dense surely."

You frowned. "Sure you flirt a lot with other girls, but that's just you! It's charming, non-threatening. I don't see you acting like-"

"I flirt with you too!" He tried, clearly exasperated. You smiled.

"Exactly! You make cute comments to me, and call me cute things like darling, but you're just naturally flirty."

Sanji groaned. Your smile slowly faltered. Sanji screwed his eyes shut. "I'm not 'just naturally flirty'...I mean, I am, I suppose, but I'm actually trying to flirt with you. I thought you were just being polite, but are you really that dense?"

"I....you are?"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"But, I'm..." You gestured to yourself. "You're more friendly than flirty to me?" 

"You're too innocent, it's not like I could just waltz right up and tell you that I think you're hot, can I?" He bristled. 

You felt electricity surge down your spine. Hot? Sanji thought you were hot? Sanji? 

Sanji took your silence as disgust. "See! That's exactly why I couldn't tell you."

"You think I'm hot?" He nodded. Your grin spread, hurting your blushing cheeks. Your eyes sparkling. "You think I'M hot?!"

"Yes, okay!" He sounded almost angry.

"Sanji, you're gorgeous! I'm too awkward. Too fat. Too plain. I'm not a model or some kind of beauty. And you're telling me someone as handsome as you, thinks I'm attractive!? And I-"

You stopped, really thinking about what he said. "Innocent? I....well I suppose. I'm not that innocent though."

Sanji's nostrils flared. "Not that innocent? Please love! You prance around in those low-cut tops and shorts in front of everyone, thinking that they ain't gonna go ballistic? You're too trusting of men, thinking that we aren't all beasts inside."

You laughed, still riding the high of his praise. Sanji snarled, banging his fist on the kitchen table. "No! It's true. You think someone doesn't see the way your tits look and salivate? You don't think you would make anyone insane? You don't think I got so fucking hard when you told me you're a virgin?"

He froze, blood turning to ice, clearly regretting blurting out that last bit. You stared at him, eyes round with wonder. He avoided your gaze, cringing at what you said next.

"I...I make you hard?".

"I'm sorry (name), that was very ungentlemanly of me. I didn't mean to say that last part." 

"But you did." He felt warm hands prying his open and playing with his fingers. He flitted his eyes up to see your face red, staring at him with your eyes practically sparkling with mirth. "God, I've wanted you to fuck me for ages, and now you're telling me you've actually wanted to this whole time?"

Sanji stiffened, cock twitching. He ached painfully. He felt parched, throat burning. This had to be a joke. "You...what?"

"Yeah. Fuck. I, mean, the clothing was purposeful at first, I wanted you to notice me. I had no idea it was working though, haha!"

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew? You never noticed I only wore those kinds of clothes when you were around? You never noticed how I tried to cling to you in the kitchen? I just assumed you knew and thought I was gross, so I pulled back." You laughed. "Did you seriously think that because I'm a virgin I can't think sexually?"

"But you've never-"

"You've never said anything raunchy to me like you do to other girls. I thought you saw me as a little sister. It'd be weird if someone you saw like family told you they want to suck your dick."

"Fuck." He hissed. 

"Oh this is too good! Have I been torturing you?" You laughed, running a hand up his arm. "You must be so frustrated."

"You have no idea." 

"I could help you." 

Sanji groaned. "You can't say things like that."

"Oh." You pulled back, back to being timid. Even if it was at his expense, Sanji felt the loss of your confident persona. Fuck he really was a masochist, wasn't he? "I, um, I'd need you to guide me. But if you did want help, I'd like to be the one."

"God, you have no idea what you're doing to me." He heard you giggle lightly. He opened his eyes to see you biting your lip, staring up at him through thick lashes, a blush adorning your chubby cheeks. He throbbed.

"You could show me? I promise I'll be gentle! Please Sanji? Can I pretty please touch your dick?"

Sanji felt like he was going to explode from how cute you were. 

"Fuck. Please."

You squealed in excitement, jumping up from the table, both his arms in hand. He wanted to laugh at how innocent you looked, but instead he felt a lump in his throat. You didn't notice, pulling the seated man into an awkward, crushing hug.

"C'mon! C'mon what are you waiting for? Let's go!" 

"Go where?" He laughed at your eagerness. "In case you haven't noticed darling, we aren't exactly alone."

The way you deflated was comical. What wasn't was the wicked glint that formed in your eyes. Sanji gulped, that was never a good sign. He watched as you quickly dashed out of the kitchen. Sanji looked around, confused. Minutes passed. He got up from the table, moving over to the kitchen island, hiding his lower half behind the counter, lest one of the crew wandered in. He sighed, willing his boner away. 

Bang!

The door flew open. Sanji jumped. There you stood frantically in the doorway. Your hair a mess, breathing heavy, and that wicked glint set on him. He watched as you closed the kitchen door, taking a chair and boarding the door. You grinned, stalking towards him.

No. There's no way.

"We aren't going to be disturbed." You were practically vibrating in excitement.

"What? No. Not in the kitchen. We. Eat. Here." Sanji hissed. You peeked up at him, lip pouting. 

"Please? I'll make sure there's no mess left." You pleaded. 

No mess? Sanji closed his eyes and groaned when he realised what you meant. You were going to be the death of him. When he opened his eyes you were in front of him, staring at him shyly. He startled.

"Can I kiss you? Or is that too far?"

Too far? He wanted to cry. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. He bent down. You grinned. He wrapped an arm around the back of your head, pulling you closer. You tipped your head up. He smiled softly before placing his lips on top of yours.

Your lips locked together like the last piece of a puzzle. You sighed, eyes flitting closed. You pushed further against him, trying desperately to pull him closer. He tasted like cigarettes but you didn't mind, an addictive taste for an addictive man. You wanted more of him. You kissed him feverishly, reluctantly pulling back for air. You stared at the taller man through lidded eyes. He gazed down at you lovingly, a blush high on his cheeks. His blue eyes studied your face closely. 

Sanji laughed as with both hands you pulled his face back for another kiss. His skin was hot, your hands now cold against his cheeks. You tasted sweet and he wanted to devour you so badly. You were too cute. He felt you pull him closer to you. You were kissing and sucking at his lips before you felt it. Sanji bit back a groan, feeling your hips brush against him. He felt pure embarrassment as he heard your breath hitch, pulling away. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a groan as you experimentally pushed your hips against him harder.

"Oh my gods." He heard you whisper against him. He froze. "Oh my gods it's so-"

"We can stop if it's too much dar-LING!"

He squeaked as he felt both your hands rake down his chest, you humming contently as you kept yourself pressed against him. He felt overwhelmed at how eager you were. He'd never had someone so upfront in wanting to touch him. His cocked throbbed. You mewled lightly, causing another throb.

"Oh my god it moves?" You giggled. He cracked a smile back. You were so innocent.

Sanji had made one crucial mistake though. That was thinking that just because you were inexperienced, that meant you would be submissive. He felt you cage him against the countertop, the wood digging into his ass, your hands on him. It wasn't that he didn't like it, the dissonance was making him dizzy. He felt your hands find purchase on his waist. You breathed out a dreamy sigh.

"God your waist is so fucking tiny."

Sanji bristled with embarrassment. He tried to address it without upsetting you. "Love, that's not exactly what I want to hear."

You giggled. "I can't help it, it's so hot. You could kick my ass if you wanted, but holy fuck you're just letting me feel you up. Gods I've seen you fight, I've seen how thick your legs are, but fuck your waist is so little."

Sanji hissed. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Your hands migrated upwards, resting on his pecs. Your slow pace was driving him insane.

"Can I?" You gestured to his shirt.

"Fuck, love, I'd love to, but maybe when we have somewhere more private okay? Don't want to be too unclothed if someone tries to come in. Same with you okay? Don't want anyone to see something so gorgeous." He smiled at you. You nodded your head, practically buzzing at the idea of this happening again. He winked at you. "You could take off something else though."

Sanji was shocked and delighted at how quickly you dropped to your knees. You began playing with his belt, figuring out how the clasp worked. Sanji scrunched his eyes shut. Fuck, you were so eager! He never would’ve expected it to go like this. Despite your eagerness you were so gentle, as if you were afraid of touching him. He was going to prompt you, but instead you softly pulled his zipper down and began drawing the fabric down till it sat mid thigh.

Oh, fuck. There he was, huh?

You looked at his clothed cock, studying It like it was some kind of strange bug. You wanted to laugh at the comparison. Above you Sanji was flushed, embarrassed by your staring. You ran a finger over the bulge. He hissed, his dick jumping lightly. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat. 

"What?"

"It's so cute the way it jumps."

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"No no no! I promise I'll be good. Can I, um... do I?"

"Just...hah...do what you think is right. I'll...correct you."

Sanji let out an undignified squeak as he felt you lightly grab the clothed bulge. You massaged it, feeling what you could, watching with curiosity how the man above you writhed. Exploratively, you moved your hand further back, cupping his balls through the fabric. The friction of the fabric against bare skin was pure torture.

"Oh shit!" Sanji whined. You withdraw your hand like it burnt. "That's, god, that's really sensitive okay? You're killing me sweetheart."

"Sorry." You mumbled, placing a kiss to his bare thigh. The "strange bug" jumped again. You began peppering more kisses to his thigh. Once you reached the inside of his thigh you breathed deeply, he smelt musky, it made your mouth water. Experimentally, you licked the inside of his thigh. Sanji's thigh tensed. You licked upwards in long stripes until you reached the leg of his underwear. You gave a quick moment of hesitation before you blew air over the bulge. Sanji hissed. Smiling, you placed a kiss directly over the top of his bulge. 

"Did you just kiss my dick?"

"Mmhmm. Watch, I'll do it again." You placed an open mouth wet kiss over Sanji's clothed cock. The man above you threw his head back, whining softly. The fabric was dampened with a mix of your spit and something else. You saw how taut the fabric had become. You cooed. "That looks like it hurts." 

Sanji nodded. You looked up at him.

"Can I take them off?"

He shuddered. "Fuck. Please (name)."

With curiosity you began dragging the wet underwear down his hips, settling them at his mid thigh. His musky scent overpowered you, and you watched with fascination as Sanji's cock slapped against his stomach. Looking up at him you saw how tight his eyes were scrunched, knuckles gripping the countertop. You noticed how he shivered lightly at the exposure. Sanji's cock stood, large, imposing, and leaking. You breathed out a curse. It looked gorgeous, just like him, long and lithe. His happy trail led to a neat little patch of dark hair. You salivated. Eyes drawing to your prize, you winced at how red and angry the head looked.

Sanji thought he was going to kill you when he felt you tap his cockhead like a microphone. Instead he bucked his hips away, humiliation colouring his face. "Stop that! I know you don't know what you're doing, but please use your brain dearest." 

You mumbled an apology before rubbing your hands together, trying to warm them. He watched as you wrapped a hand around his dick before moaning lowly. You studied him, absolutely enraptured, as you gave a test pump. The man above you crumbled. 

"Do you always get this way?"

"No." He panted.

"Just for me?" You tried sultry, trying to muster up some quote from a smutty novel you once read. Sanji peeked one eye open before groaning.

"No." His voice was strained, breathing heavy. You tried pumping him, but the rhythm was sloppy. "N-no. You're...it's a lot right now. I'm not used to it being this slow…or clumsy."

"Do you like it?" You looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Unfortunately." He muttered. With a burst of pride you tried pumping him harder. Sanji squealed, grabbing your hand. "Fuck (name), I really need you to spit in your hand. Th-that's painful."

"Oh...sorry." You offered. Sanji watched as you perversely spit in your hand, wrapping the digits back around his cock. You tried setting a rhythm, it was sloppy, but you focused on giving him consistent squeezing pressure. Sanji moaned lowly at the squeezing, hips rocking. 

Soon you reached a steady rhythm. You watched with bated breath before you slowed down. Sanji began to whine from the loss, only to keen loudly as he felt your lips enclose his cockhead. He began spluttering, eyes rolled backwards. He'd take anything right now, fuck he wanted to cum so bad. He sucked in a breath.

"No teeth, okay love?" 

You laughed, the vibrations tickling him in the best way. He moaned, trying desperately to not fuck your face. His eyes were so tightly scrunched.

You slowly forced yourself further down his length, squeezing the base. Sanji swore. You froze, taking a deep breath through your nose. When he didn't stop you, you continued your devotion. 

"Ack!" You choked, throat burning. You felt Sanji's hand patting your head. You retreated off him, coughing.

"Darling don't take more than you can okay. We don't want you to choke now."

You gazed up at him, eyes wet and throat hoarse. "Let me try again!" 

Your raspy voice made Sanji quiver, but the way you looked up at him, absolutely wrecked, made him burn. As quickly as he noticed it, it ended, and you unceremoniously inhaled his cock. He could feel you try to smile. 

"Fuck!" His voice was high as you sucked hard, adding your tongue to flatten against the underside of his cock. "(Name)! Baby, fuck, I-"

"Hey why won't the door open?" Zoro's voice rang through the wood. Sanji stilled, holding your head. The two of you looked at each other frozen. Sanji tried clearing his throat. 

"If you keep making noise out there, I'm gonna explode, Mosshead!"

You snorted, trying hard to not laugh. 'Yeah you're gonna explode,' you inwardly snickered. 

"Whatever shitty waiter." 

Silence. Sanji looked down at you. "Darling, maybe we should stop. It's okay, we can try again another day." He froze at the frustrated look that overtook your features. "Fuck." He whispered.

You sucked harshly causing Sanji to bite his hand hard to avoid screaming. He felt you try swallowing, watched as tears pricked your eyes. You didn't slow down on your work, sucking harshly and hands wandering. You grabbed a fistful of his asscheek, other hand tracing circles on his inner thigh. You felt him tensing, quivering. His hand reached for your neck, trying to coax you off. He was so close.

"Oh god!" Sanji gasped. "Baby I'm gonna cum, you need to hop off-AH!" 

You sucked harder, milking the man through his orgasm. It was like music the way he spluttered and grabbed the back of your head, nails scratching your scalp. You felt hot, thick liquid painting your throat. It wasn't pleasant, but fuck his reactions were. Some dribbled out of the corner of your mouth and Sanji wiped it away with a thumb, a fucked out expression on his features. He pulled his softened cock out of your mouth, and watched, breathless as you swallowed his seed. You made a grimace afterwards causing the man to laugh.

"Was it okay?" You asked, shyness taking over you. 

"You're lucky I don't mind a bit of torture. It was good for a first try." He gave you that flirty grin and a wink. "I think you need more practice though."

You laughed, outstretching a hand so he could help you up. You tried stretching your legs, noting the numb pain in your knees. You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Was I that bad?"

Sanji pulled his underwear and pants back up, zipping his pants closed. He pulled you closer. "Nah, you're just something else entirely. Silly." Kiss. "Torturous." Kiss. "And I am smitten with you."

"We've wasted enough time, better get back to it." You smiled against his lips. 

"I'd love to pay you back."

"Later loverboy, we're gonna have the whole crew in here soon if we don't hurry."

"I'm so glad there's a later."

You winked, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. You stopped, turning to stare at the man.

"For you baby? Always. Oh, can you make souffle?"

"What? Why?"

"I told the guys we were making a souffle and needed the kitchen completely silent."

Sanji laughed. You definitely kept him on his toes.

-----------

I'm not going to lie, some of this is coloured by my first time hahaha! I am an incredibly awkward person, and yes I did also once tell a guy how cute I thought it was when dicks jump. He also told me I was fucked for that ha!

[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!💞

[redhead1180]

Can you write me a whimpering, overstimulated JJ? Reader turns it around on him and leaves the man a mess 😙 I’m on my period and horny af 😮‍💨

First off, ma'am, the fact you, the smut queen herself, asked me made my brain short circuit. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I had to come back to Earth before I could comprehend your ask. 🤯🤯 Lol. Sorry it took me so long, I had a couple of family functions for Father's Day. This actually helped me with my writer's block I have been having as of late. I really hope you like it. I love a subby JJ and always fun to write him.

It was a typical Sunday night as you and JJ watched a movie after being lazy all day. You had let JJ pick the movie, which meant some crazy B movie of big ass worms in the swamp trying to eat the local population. JJ was half sitting and half laying down on the sofa as you laid against his chest, listening to the rumble in his chest as he ranted about the movie.

Normally his theatrics would amuse you and keep you laughing even though it was a terrible movie, but tonight you were bored. Said boredom must have been pretty obvious, because JJ began to pinch your side playfully.

“J don’t” you whined trying to stifle a laugh.

“What’s a matter, babe” JJ asked as he worked at getting me to laugh.

You shrugged “Movie’s not really doing it for me tonight” You mumble trying not to hurt his feelings, but the boy has horrible taste in movies.

“Aahhh” JJ hums as he pulls you on top of him, spreading his legs so you fit snuggly between them, your chin resting on his sternum looking up at him.

“Care to make it more interesting?” he inquires, looking down at you with a shit eating grin.

“Exactly what did you have in mind?” you chuckle.

“Little J is feeling a little cold and lonely, why don’t you cockwarm me the rest of the movie?” he asked cockily.

You were always horrible at this, giving in pretty quickly, wanting more and begging for it. JJ knew this, he knew his girl, and knew this would end in his favor. JJ liked to be in control, and knowing how you lost control at this was why he loved it.

“Hmmm” you pondered, knowing you would give in, but holding out a few minutes. You could feel his dick already getting hard against your stomach. Looking up at him almost made you laugh, his bottom lip poking out and his blue orbs begging. “M’kay” you chuckle, unable to hold it in.

He grabs your face and kisses you passionately, as if he was holding back and would explode. You let him dominate the kiss while you palm him and work to unbutton his shorts. He helps you slide your panties off and pull down his shorts, before you raise up and feel him slide his cock through your folds. You gasp from the stretch, without JJ’s normal prep, it took a minute to adjust to him. Your walls clamp around him, welcoming him into their warmth.

“Shit baby, you feel so good” JJ moaned as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“So do you J,” I hummed “Now be still and watch your movie.”

You laid down on his chest and snuggled into him to finish the movie. It was maybe 30 minutes later you felt JJ begin to squirm.

“JJ be still,” I whined, lightly tapping his thigh, causing him to whimper. I looked at him and he was biting his lip and hitting me with puppy dog eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?

“I want you to move, please, baby.”

You set up and place your hands on the couch arm behind him, leaning towards him till your lips are almost touching. “What’s wrong J, need something more?”

“Mhmm” he whined, his hands squeezing my hips, silently begging me to move. He reached up to kiss me and I pulled back with a smile, taunting him. He pouted.

“You gotta be a good boy to get what you want,” You taunted, barely rolling your hips on him, causing him to gasp. “Have you been a good boy, baby?”

“Yes, please baby, I just -fuck- I just need you to move,” he panted as he pawed at my hips, my waist, and my chest. Burying his head in my neck, I clenched around him, causing him to buck his hips and cry out. “Oh fuck, please mama, need you to fuck me!”

“Shhh, I’m gonna make you feel all better, I promise,” I cooed as I rolled my hips back and forth, riding him slowly at first. I could feel his cock slide in and out of my soaked pussy, feeling every ridge and vein.

“Oh God, mama, more” JJ whimpered.

I pushed his hands onto the couch arm, using them as leverage to help pick up speed and ride him harder. With each thrust of my hips he slammed into couch, letting out tiny moans each time. He worked his hands free and wrapped his arms around my waist, babbling in my neck praise and thank you’s. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him close. His thighs began to shake as held me tighter.

“Mama, I’m gonna cum, I’m cum-“

I feel JJ’s hot release hit my walls as his hips sputter under me. I don’t stop or slow down and I feel his arms tighten around me.

“Good boy, but I didn’t cum,” you whisper in his ear. Speeding your hips up, you hear him whimper.

“Baby, I can’t, you gotta stop” he whines in your neck.

“Nah, you gotta another, besides I’m close baby.” I rasp in his ear, before his head falls back and I see tears in his eyes.

I kiss him hard and passionately, taking what I wanted, while he squirmed underneath me, whimpering and whining. The little noises he was making were shooting straight to my core, I felt almost feral as I rode him harder, slamming him harder into the couch with each jerk of my hips.

“Baby, please, I can’t,” he whimpers, barely able to speak from the overstimulation. His hips jerking with each slam of mine. I slapped his thigh and chased my high, grabbing him around the throat.

“C’mon, JJ, I know you can be a good boy for Mama, I’m so close baby” I murmur to him. I feel my skin began to burn, I felt the band in my stomach tighten, my core tingling as I feel my release close. JJ has his head thrown back, tears running down his cheeks, “uh-uhs” falling from his lips.

“JJ!” I panted, “Fuck!” I moaned right as I felt the band snap and my climax releases all over his cock. I hear JJ cry out as I feel him cum again, his body going limp under me. I collapse on him, kissing his face and neck, praising him as he waited for his soul to return to his body.

“You ok, baby?” I ask as I he looks at me, grinning like a drunk.

“Fuck, baby that was the hottest shit we’ve ever done” he lazily smiled.

“Wasn’t too much?”

“Oh, hell no, give me 30 and we will go again” he lightly panted. I just chuckled, causing him to jump and grab my hips. “Fuck, babe, still sensitive” he cried.

[latenightdaydreams]

Hi hi! Hope you don't mind that I have another request eheh... 🥲 I'd like to request smut with some build up before it, if you don't mind of course ^^; I've just been recently obsessed over those tropes of s/o(s) being apart for too long. And then thought of a reader who happens to be an intelligence officer working for KorTac. She and König aren't together yet per sé, more like have fallen for each other but never got to voice it out. Now, reader is chosen to carry out espionage against their enemy. However, it lasts for a year or two. Which is risky af. Anyway, those feelings they had for each other never left and they only grew within time. Plus they really miss each other hjshjs- And then when she finally comes back, cue the reunion. Cue the confession. Andddd cue whatever happens after that. Sorry if my request is more lengthier than before 😭 feel free to decline

So uh yes. That's basically it. Stay safe and take care of yourself 🫶 just gonna drop this gigantic special delivery package to this wonderful writer over here (you ofc) of... Oo what's this— BOOM. LOVE ✨💓💞💕💖✨

OMG this is such a sweet idea🥹 Never feel bad sending in a request! I love reading them and I love the challenge of bringing your idea to life! Thank you for all of the love you send my way, it is very appreciated and it makes my day to see your messages and comments! I hope you have a fantastic day and enjoy the story!

Reunion (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

2.3k word count

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You stand in your room packing your suitcase as König sat at your desk chair. His eyes slowly going up and down your body, taking in how beautiful you look doing something so mundane. His mind flushed with thoughts of you, your mission, and his feelings. He has so much to say, but now isn’t the right time.

“Are you nervous Maus?” König bounces his foot nervously.

“I- no.” You lie. “It will be easy.”

“You’re definitely the best person for the job.”

You turn and smile at him. You want to say how much you’re going to miss him while you’re away. You’re aware that this mission will be long, maybe a year. It hurts your heart to think he might meet someone new while you’re away. What if you come back and he has a whole new life? A lot can change in that amount of time. Your heart sinks, but you continue to fake a smile for him.

You turn and face him. König looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes look sad behind his mask. The mask hiding the frown on his lips. He stands and walks to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you Maus,” he whispers as he rests his head on top of yours.

“I’ll miss you too.” You wrap your arms around him and hug him back. “Don’t forget about me.” You say with a giggle in your voice to hide the pain in that statement.

Your giggle doesn’t work because König notices. His arms tightening around you, “I could never forget you, y/n.”

König has the overwhelming want to lean down and kiss your soft lips, but he can’t. You two are just friends. Military code forcing him to shove his feelings for you aside to not cause any issues. Yet, underneath his uniform, he is just a man in love; desperate for a chance to touch you in a more intimate way and express his love for you. He settles for friendly hugs and breathing in your scent instead.

He pulls away from the hug and looks down at you. Your beautiful eyes looking back at him. His heart pounds in his chest, he is already starting to miss you and it hurts.

“I’ll carry your bag to the garage for you.” He says closing your suitcase and picking it up.

“Thank you, Kö.”

The last time you two see each other you spend 20 minutes hugging, breathing each other in. Words hanging on the tips of both your tongues, yet no one brave enough to cross that line. Both of your hearts break as you know this could be your last time together. All you can do is hope that life brings you both back together.

The mission went on longer than expected. Two years and seven months, König has been counting the days; marking off the calendar waiting for the day you finally return. The only sign that you’re alive is the intel that KorTac occasionally gets from you, but it’s been three months since the last message. He is use to a life of solitude, but without you he feels a new level of loneliness.

He walks past your room every day before returning to his own. Your room remains vacant, everything left exactly how you left it. Every night he looks at a photo of you he has tucked under his pillow, gently kissing it hoping you’ll return to him soon.

It was another day of mundane tasks and paper work for König. He sat at his desk with your file pulled up on his screen, your photo attached. He marks off another day from the calendar, another day without you.  Not even intel from you.

Around 12pm, König sits with his mask off, eating his lunch he packed for himself. He wonders where you are and if you’re safe. What if you’ve been captured and murdered or worse, fallen in love and decided to run off with the enemy. Being alone with his own thoughts is torture.

Just then there is a knock at his door. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He was in the middle of eating. Putting his sandwich down, he picks up a napkin and cleans his mouth before pulling his mask down over his face. Again, a knock.

“Alright, come in.” König says as he straightens himself out. He minimizes your file that he has still pulled up on the computer screen.

The door opens and closes, he looks up to see…you.

König’s jaw drops and he just sits there staring at you for a while, as if he can’t believe that you’re real and standing in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you did the day you left. Nothing has changed other than your hair being longer now, and it suits you.

You stand there quietly waiting for him to say something, do something. He just sits there looking at you in complete shock.

“Hey Kö,” you break the silence as you take a few steps closer.

Hearing the nickname, Kö, makes his heart flutter; only you and his mother have ever called him that. You’re really here. He isn’t hallucinating. It’s you. Quickly he stands to his feet and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He takes a deep breath, breathing you in. He’s missed your scent so much these last few years, he had forgotten what you even smelled like. Forgotten just how perfect your warmth feels against his body.

Your arms quickly wrap around him, you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. Being away from König was harder than you thought it would be. Especially for almost three years, you weren’t sure if you’d be returning to the same man. Yet here he was. Your König. He waited for you.

König pulls away from the hug and moves his hands to grasp you face and turn your face so you can look into his eyes. His eyes glossy, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t speak as he just looks at your face, taking in your beauty. He hasn’t seen you in the flesh for so long, it’s like he is seeing you again for the first time. His beautiful love.

Without thinking, König pulls his mask off; revealing his face to you for the first time ever. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours; slowly out of fear of rejection, yet once your lips touch, you don’t pull back or turn away. You kiss back with even more passion, making König melt inside.  He grips your face a little tighter as he begins to kiss you harder, matching your passion.

Breaking away, he rests his head on yours, tears now falling down both of your faces.

“I was scared I would never see you again.” His voice breaks as he speaks to you.

“I know,” your breathing shutters.

He pulls away slightly as you look up at his face. You take in all of his features that have been hidden all these years of friendship. He’s…beautiful. You’ve thought of what he might be hiding all this time, it’s just scars. They only add to how attractive you see him.

“Kö, I’m in love with you.” The words flow out of your mouth as if it’s word vomit.

Your heart begins to pick up and you swallow hard, waiting for his response. Your hand reaching out to wipe tears away from his eyes as they fall.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n. I always have been.” His voice cracks.

He leans down and his lips meet yours again, his tongue licking your lips as they part to accept him. He lets out a soft moan as he tastes you for the first time. He’s wanted this for a long time, since the day you stayed behind with him after a failed mission. That was the day he fell in love with you.

His hands drop down to your waist as he begins to push up the hem of your shirt, his warm hands caressing your soft skin. You don’t stop him; your body has always craved him. You’re his now, in this moment, and forever. Slowly pulling away from your lips, his eyes drop down your body.

“Is this okay?” He seeks you consent before continuing. His hands continue to caress your waist, moving up slowly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes as his lips come back to meet yours. You continue to make out as his hands move up your body. He begins to pull you shirt up, breaking the kiss to take your shirt fully off. He looks down at your breasts cupped in your bra. He brings you closer to him as he can wrap his arms around you and unhook your bra. You let the bra drop from your body.

König quickly drops to his knees, his lips finding your breasts and kissing all over, his lips grazing over your nipples giving you chills. His hands fumble with the button of your pants as he undoes it. Pulling down your zipper, he looks up at you. His hands wrap around the top of your pants and pull them down with your underwear.

His eyes look at the soft bush between your legs before he kisses your stomach and hips. You lean back against the wall and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. Slowly he kisses down your thigh that’s resting on him. He finally begins to kiss the soft hair covering your sacred area. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent completely. He has always wanted to be graced with the privilege of giving you pleasure, and here he is finally.

He sticks his tongue out and licks from the bottom to the top, his tongue making small circles over your clit. He can’t believe just how sweet you taste. The small moans leaving your lips mixed with the smell of your arousal making his cock rock hard in his cargos. He begins to suck lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he does. Your legs begin to tremble and jerk.

You look down at him as he eats you out, your fingers gently combing through his blonde hair. You could have never imagined that he would be this good as he begins to focus in on your clit. Legs shaking you moan out, calling his name. You feel a rush, a build up of pleasure.

Knowing that you’re about to cum, König keeps his rhythm. You push his face into your cunt, forcing him to only breathe in your sweet natural musk. His face covered in your arousal; he can’t take it anymore.

He moves your leg off of him gently as he stands up. He begins to quickly undo his belt and take his pants off. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his Greek god like body to you. You just look at him, in awe. The same way he looks at you.

You both stand there looking at each other’s bare bodies. König just can’t get enough of you. He walks closer to you and scoops you up in his arms. He walks to his desk chair with you. He sits slouched in the chair as you sit on his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against his erection. You lean in and kiss his lips as he moans softly feeling a tease of what your warmth will be like.

With no regard for safe sex, you lean forward, reaching down and grabbing his cock to guide it into your pussy. Once the tip squeezes in you both let out a harmonious moan. Your eyes studying his face as he is focused on watching you stretch around his cock.

Your hands on his shoulders for balance, you continue to sit down until König bottoms out inside of you. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he submits to you and lets you take control of your shared pleasure. Your tight cunt squeezing around him, breasts bouncing in his face as you move over him. His muscles flex as he assists you in your movements.

“Oh Scheiße, Maus. You feel so fucking good.” He moans out as his head falls back against the back of the chair; eyes closed. He has never felt this level of pleasure before with another partner. The sound of your wet cunt filling the space between your shared moans and panting.

“Kö,” you whimper out as your hands move to his chest, fingers digging deeply into his skin.

König opens his eyes and looks down at your cunt eagerly trying to milk him. A creamy white ring circling the base of his cock, and he can smell the sex in the air. He can’t hold on anymore. He wraps his arms around your abdomen and holds you close to him while he begins to quickly thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You begin to moan out loudly, definitely loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but he couldn’t care less.

“I-I’m going to- ah,” König couldn’t even speak as he begins to sweat from his rapid movements. His hands grasping your ass as he begins to roughly push you down on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you as he cums. His cheeks turning slightly red from embracement of not lasting longer.

Your lips meet his with desperation as you both kiss. His hands still gripping you tightly as you rest on him, as if you might leave again if he lets go. Breaking the kiss you both look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands leaving your body and moving up to caress your face gently.

“Are you mine?” König sounding so submissive and gentle, a side no one ever sees of him.

“Of course.”

[frightenedcricket]

Decay Part 1: The fall.

Noah Sebastian x OC. Angst.

Summary: Noah and Abby's friendship starts trembling when Abby develops unhealthy habits. No one knows why, no one dares to ask, but everyone is scared.

Notes: this is fiction. It's long af so I will make it a multi part thing

Warnings: themes like alcoholism, alussions to S. A. (it doesn't happen), self-destructive behaviors are touched in this fic. Read at your own discretion.

He didn't know where or when it started. But he was alert whenever she was around. They all had seen her decay in the past weeks and it was obviously taking a toll in them. But it was Noah the one worrying the most.

Abby wasn't one to tell anyone her problems. Not even Noah. She didn't want to be a weight on anyone's shoulders. She had told them when she had broken up with her partner. They knew about the impact it had on her and how she needed to stop touring for a few weeks. But that was it. That was the further they knew about her fears and personal life. They didn't know how recently her mind had been plagued by those thoughts... She was hurting herself, her own mind playing games, and no one truly know. They didn't see more than they joyful friend getting wasted night after night.

They were in a random gas station. The bus needed to stop and they had just left the city. It was past 3 am and they were all tired.

Noah left the public restroom he had just washed his teeth in and looked around. It was dark and kind of misty. The bus was only a few meters away. He could see the lights and also some of the guys moving inside. But as soon as he started to walk in that direction, he heard a group of three men talk.

"Yeah, there's a chick in there." He stopped walking and turned in the most discreet way he could. They were next to a truck smoking. "And she was pissed drunk"

Noah felt cold. They were talking about her. Abby had drunk too much. It was kind of a habit right now, that was what had them worried.

"I'm sure she is easy to convince" Another one said.

"My house is right down the road"

"No way we are taking her to your house, dude! I'll drive down there and then we can bring her-"

The door opened and Noah tensed. The three men turned to her, they hadn't seen Noah standing there or didn't care about him. One of them started to walk, but Noah moved faster.

"Babe! Here you are. I though you were already in the bus"

Noah took long steps to her and pulled her closer to his body. The three men froze.

"Let's go" He muttered when she clinged into his waist.

"Yeah... I'm a bit dizzy" She muttered. "You called me babe"

Noah's heart wanted to come out of his chest. Yeah, he could fight, he was big and well trained. But those men were three and he didn't know if they were armed. Plus by how they spoke... If he had walked to the bus... He pulled her closer and kissed her head.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Folio was smoking outside the bus.

"Hey, Folio. Do you have some..."

"No, he doesn't"

Noah and Nick shared a look.

"Let's go inside and you can go to sleep" At least she had her sweats and hoodie on. They wouldn't need to get her out of her work clothes.

"Oh C'mon. I'm fine"

Noah had to help her to get on the bus. With a loud sigh, she let herself fall on the sofa. "I will sleep here, okay?"

"Abby..."

"I get dizzy in the bus"

"You wouldn't if you didn't drink like that" Matt groaned.

"Matt" Noah didn't need to say more. His stern gaze made everyone shut up.

Noah ended up sitting with her because once the bus started moving she got worse.

The next day, she was still sleeping there when the others came back from having breakfast. Luckily, tonight they had hotel rooms.

"Abby?"

"Mhm... My head..."

"Yeah, I brought you painkillers."

"You are an angel"

Noah sighed and moved her hair out of her face. Abby stared into his eyes for long seconds. She loved them. So dark but so sweet and warm. She wished for that pain in them to wash away.

"You stayed last night?"

Noah shook his head. After a while his neck had started hurting and he moved to his bunk. He wanted to take care of her, but it was starting to consume him.

"Oh" She wouldn't admit she wanted him to stay. That was the last thing she wanted to do because it would only make it worse.

"Get ready, okay? We have the soundcheck in an hour and Dierkes is not happy"

She nodded.

The thing was that, with all her problems, she still showed up everyday at work, on time and gave the most of her. It was on her free time when she did all the damage.

During the day, Abby was her usual loving shelf. She was there for everyone, she seemed happy.

Soundcheck was smooth. They didn't have mayor problems.

"Movie night?" Noah said during lunch.

"Oh yes! There is this new one... Fuck. I don't remember the name" Folio started talking about the film, but Noah's eyes moved over to where Abby sat. She was on her phone, not paying much attention. He felt something on his chest. She used to love movie nights.

She didn't make it to watch the movie.

"And Abby?" Noah cautiously asked when the last one of the guys arrived.

"Uh..." Nicholas cleared his throat. He had been there for a while already, but didn't have the guts so say it. "She has a date"

Noah frowned.

"A date? We got here yesterday"

"Tinder" The bassist muttered.

Noah's humor switched completely. He tensed and his expression turned icy.

"Noah" Bryan grabbed his shoulder, but he moved away.

"It's fine. Turn that film on"

The next morning, when Jolly was leaving his room for breakfast when Abby stumbled out of the elevator. The man groaned and quickly moved to her.

"Hey"

"Where were you?" Jolly was cold, probably too much because she flinched a bit.

"With a friend" Abby muttered. Her mind kept running around the things that had happened. She wanted to shower.

Jolly didn't tell Noah about the encounter, but he told everyone Abby was already on her room. They sighed in relief. Noah felt the tension leaving his shoulders. At least she was back. The men from the gas station hadn't left his mind for a second.

It was the first time she was late for work. But again, she did everything good. She was only a bit slower than other days.

"Are you okay?" Noah asked. She had lifted a box and had groaned.

"Yeah... I didn't expect it to be this heavy"

Noah nodded. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale. She had tried to hide it with make up but it didn't work.

"Uh... Sorry for not going last night" I'm the bottom, Abby was fully conscious of her actions. She knew what she was doing, she knew that it was hurting Noah. But in those moments, fear and anxiety washed over her and she simply couldn't stand being there.

The signer shook his head.

"It's okay. It was awful anyway" He didn't want to give her a excuse, a reason... But he didn't want to admit that he hated her last night, that he hated she was there with some random dude and had skipped movie night for sex. He didn't want to be that person. He didn't want to be jealous.

"Folio, right?"

Noah nodded and she laughed softly. That was like a present on Christmas.

But Noah's mind keep turning over the same spot. He needed to keep her close. To keep an eye on her. But he didn't know how. He felt this urge to protect her from the world.

"Man..." Matt sat next to him after the show. They had gone to have a couple of drinks in a bar and Abby already had her first beer. "It's not healthy"

"I know, I just don't know how to tell her-"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about you. We all know that whatever she is doing it's not healthy"

"About me?"

Noah frowned. The manager nodded slowly. "You are not yourself."

"Well, I'm worried. You know why" He had tried to be subtle about it and keep it a secret. But he had already told more people than he could count with his hand. He was head over heels for her. He was for a long time.

"Noah... You don't have to save her"

Noah looked away. It was like cold water. Something he already knew but didn't want to be told.

"I have been in bad places too, Matt. I want to help her, she can't do it alone"

"But it's not your responsibility, okay? She is our friend. We can help her, but we... You can't do it for her"

Noah ran his hands over his hair and looked for her. The groan was loud.

Abby was standing there with a man and his hands were dangerously low. She took a shot and the man grabbed his cheeks harshly. Noah couldn't tear his eyes off them. He kissed her and Noah felt nauseous.

"Noah"

"Yeah" Finally, he leaned back against the chair and look at Matt. "It's hurting me"

Well, his therapist would be proud.

Nicholas found them on the table and sat, instantly feeling the tension.

"Is this about..."

"Yeah"

Nicholas, being the best friend, flesh and bone, the guy who had been there for so long, leaned forward on the table.

"I know you are in love with her. It's not easy for me to see her doing this, I can't imagine for you... But it's not healthy... Are you even happy?"

Noah looked down at his hands. Suddenly, the tattoos that covered them for years were the most interesting thing in the world.

"No..." He was happy touring, with the band, his job. All of that was everything that he ever wanted. But now there was a dark cloud that would let him see all of those good things he had.

Unconsciously, his eyes moved to her but she wasn't there. The anxiety grew on his chest as he got up.

"She was with- I have to go"

"Noah, no"

They couldn't stop him. When he stepped outside, the air was way colder and humid than when they arrived. He heard her laugh and looked to the right. She was with that man next to a car. He took mental notes of everything he could, and last but not lest important, wrote the plate number on his phone. Then, he knew he shouldn't, but he did it any way.

"Abby!"

Her face turned to him and she smiled. His heart broke even more.

"Hey! Noah!"

He causally walked to them, making eye contact with the man.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh... With Harry" She couldn't stand looking into his eyes. There was somthing turning on her stomach.

"We leave early tomorrow"

"Uh"

"Who is this, flower?"

"This is Noah" She said while looking at him. There was something on her eyes he couldn't read. "A friend"

Noah felt his heart clench. He wasn't just a friend.

"W-we leave early tomorrow"

Abby seemed to think about it. They would leave at 8.30 am.

"Yeah, I... Uh... I'll try to make it."

"No, you have to be there"

Abby bit her lip and Harry scoffed.

"Dude..."

Noah shot him a look and he rolled his eyes.

"Listen. If I'm not there at 8... I'll send you my location as soon as we arrive at his. Just come and pick me. He lives down the road."

Noah felt a sour taste on his mouth. He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want her to be alone.

"Okay" He said defeated.

He watched them leave, feeling how he was loosing her more and more each night that passed.

When he came back, they were all in the table.

"She left."

"Dude, we leave early tomorrow. Why did you let he-" obviously, Matt didn't like the idea of a crew member spending the night out when they had an early morning. But Noah didn't want to hear any of that.

"Stop with that bullshit" He cut him while he sat. "You can't tell me it's not my responsibility but then give me shit for her leaving"

Matt went quiet.

"Noah, you can talk to us."

And Noah let himself go. He spoke for minutes.

"And... The other night at the night station... There were these men... They wanted to hurt her. They were talking about taking her somewhere and... How drunk she was..."

Everyone in the table felt guilty. Abby was their friend, but even when Noah and her had a different bond, they were all together in this. They had left Noah carrying with her and her problems for too long.

"Noah..."

"I feel... I'm scared because she gets pissed drunk every night and leaves with someone else... And I'm scared something happens to her and I'm not there like I was in the gas station. If I had left the restroom a minute earlier I wouldn't have heard them and... "

"Hey, no. But you were there" Nicholas said.

"I'm not there now"

They all went quiet.

"Maybe it's time to talk to her" Folio muttered. "I miss her"

Everyone looked at the drummer.

Those words sounded on everyone's minds for the whole night. Eventually, they went back to the bus and to sleep. But with every little sound, Noah would wake up thinking she was already there. She was back. But she wasn't. The morning came and her bunk was empty. 7.30 am.

Noah was sitting outside with Nicholas and Bryan. The morning was fresh but nice. It was sunny and it warmed their cold cheeks. They were quiet, all of them thinking the same.

"Hey" Bryan muttered.

Away and walking slow, a figure was getting closer. Noah straightened his back and fisted his hands.

"She doesn't seem drunk" Bryan muttered.

Matt walked down the bus too.

As soon as was close enough to see her properly, Noah got up.

"Abby"

There was make up under her eyes and her hair was tied in a messy bun. He wondered if she had seen herself, if she had even checked a mirror.

On the side of her neck, there were various purple marks. But it didn't worry Noah. What worried him was pink shade of her cheek and marks over her throat. Those were definitely not love bites.

"Abby, what happened to you?"

Everyone else was frozen.

"Nothing" She wasn't drunk this time. But she couldn't look at him. "What are you talking about?"

Abby wanted to go inside and wash herself. Then, she would just hide in her bunk until they arrive to the next city.

"Abby, have you seen yourself?"

Noah tried to reach to her but for the first time ever, she moved away. Noah felt lost. That was it, right? The end.

"Noah, I'm perfectly fine. Mind your own business"

Nicholas stood up ready to cut that as soon as needed.

Noah's blood was boiling. He was so done.

"Perfectly fine?" He grabbed her jaw and arm and she closed her eyes. But it didn't feel like last night. Noah was careful. He was furious but still grabbed her with so much care. "Has someone hit you? Abby, this is serious. This are finger marks..." His thumb moved over the marks on her throat.

She was on the verge of tears, but she wouldn't give him that. She wouldn't give them the pleasure. She didn't want an I told you so. So she did what her mind told her it was the best. What she had been doing recently. She pushed things a bit more. She pushed them closer to ruin.

"What? Haven't to heard about hard sex before? Haven't you ever slapped a girl with your cock in her mouth? Didn't think of you as the vanilla guy, Noah"

The smile on her face made him want to vomit. This wasn't his Abby.

"Go inside, Abby" Nicholas put some distance between them. He was done with these bullshit. "Wash yourself. We leave soon"

Noah's hands fell to his sides. He was tired. He wanted to sleep for hours. He wanted to scream and hit something. He was exhausted but full of energy. There was a hurricane of thoughts in his mind. These marks, her smile, her hurtful words... They way she didn't seem to care about anything. He was tired of it all. He was getting tired of her.

Abby closed the door in that small cubicle they called toilet. With a look in the mirror she started crying. She felt awful, tired, dirty; she hated her guts, she was full of rage; she was purposefully destroying the best thing she had only because she was feeling things she couldn't deal with. It was overwhelming.

Maybe what Noah and Abby had was just a friendship. But years of touring together had developed a bond like no one else's in the whole crew. Noah only had eyes for Abby and Abby couldn't go through the day without Noah.

"Abbs" Folio's sweet voice made her stop crying.

"Yeah"

"Are you-"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry".

Folio leaned against the door. "We are all here for you"

She covered her mouth and silenced a sob.

"Just... Take your time. We'll be outside, okay?"

As soon as Folio left, she was her face and hid on her bunk. She wasn't brave enough to face anyone - specially Noah -, so she chose to leave that for Future Abby.

The pre-show was tense until Abby left the green room to go to her designated place. Then Noah seemed to relax a bit without her presence around.

They hadn't even look at each other in the whole day. Which everyone understood. They didn't want to pick sides, but everyone admited to be more on Noah's.

The show was good, apart from the signer forgetting the lyrics a couple of times. It had nothing to do with his eyes meeting Abby's. Nothing.

There was not a post show. They decided to crash on the bus.

But it was suffocating. Noah wouldn't look at her. Matt was cold. Nicholas was tense around her... She could list every single one of them. She had been sitting in silence for an hour. Noah was also there, but across the room. He was busy playing some cards and seemed relaxed - he was just good pretending he was fine. The air was warm and getting dense even though they had a couple of windows open. It was raining outside.

There was that thing on the back of her mind again. Scape. So she grabbed her phone and open that damn app. Five minutes later she already had a guy to busy her night. Without saying a word, she got up and disappeared in the toilet.

Everyone thought she just needed to use it. But then the door opened and she had changed her clothes and put some make up on. The bit marks had faded during the day, but not the finger marks. Her face wasn't really swollen or red anymore but she had put effort on covering it anyway.

Noah's response was automatic.

"Where are you going?"

Abby froze for long seconds. There were so many eyes on her.

"Out. I'm bored" She put that mask on again. She didn't care. She wanted to have fun. She wanted to enjoy herself. It had nothing to do with hiding those scary feelings. It wasn't a way to protect herself by just getting damaged.

"It's raining and we are in the middle of nowhere" Noah added.

"I called an Uber. It's almost here."

Noah got up and she felt small, like a little mouse in front of an enormous black cat.

"You can't go"

"I definitely can. Not your business." She moved to the door but Noah was faster.

He stood in the stairs blocking the door. Being some steps lower he had her on eye level.

"Noah, move"

"No"

The guys stayed in silence, there was a place to speak in there. It was just Noah and Abby.

"Noah" She groaned. She got a notification in her phone. "My Uber is here. I have to meet a guy in twenty minutes. Move"

"I'm not moving."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about you" He simply said.

He was calm. Way too calm. They had barely see him like this. It was disturbing.

"No, you don't. If you did you let me go"

That truly was the last drop. The air turned even thicker and Noah finally snapped.

"Don't dare to say shit like that again. Because I care. I care so damn much" He pointed a finger at her and Abby hugged herself.

She had fucked up, finally.

"If I didn't care about you I wouldn't have spent so many nights away thinking o where you were or wondering if you are okay. Because you keep getting drunk until you can't stand and then dissappear with the first person that answers your phone. And I have to stay here. I stay here and wait for you to come back every single night. And I wonder if you will. Because... Fuck. You leave and you don't tell us where you are going, alone, in an unknown city. God knows with who... And I don't know what they are capable of..." The gas station men popped back in his mind. "Well, I do. That's what scares me the most. You leave and then you come back covered in marks and with a swollen cheek and you say it's fine. But it's clearly not. Because you keep doing this to yourself. You are hurting yourself. You gent wasted every night, disappear, then come back the next morning stumbling through that damn door, you sleep for the whole day, work for a bit and then all over again. And I want to help you but I don't know how. Because I don't know how it started or when. I just know that this Abby who is destroying herlsef doesn't feel like my friend Abby."

Abby had starred crying at some point. She couldn't look at him in the eye because it was so scary to face the truth.

"It's obvious you are hurting and I wish I knew why. I have been this low too and I know how hard it is. I'm terrified something happened to you that lead you to this and I missed it." Noah stopped and took a deep breath. "I want to help you but I don't know how"

The guys were in silence. Noah's words fell over them like cold water. Folio even had to brush a tear away.

"And I really don't care with who you have sex. I just want you to be safe." Noah took a deep breath. "That's why you are not leaving tonight. I'm not letting you leave. And I don't care if I have to tie you to the chair. You are staying here tonight."

Abby was shaking and feeling to weak to stand on her own. That was it. There wasn't nothing to say. He was right. She wasn't fine, it wasn't okay, she had put herself in situations she wished she hadn't. Only because she had been so scared to acknowledge her feelings.

"Okay" She muttered.

Everyone sighed in relief. Nicholas let his head fall on the table, Matt on his hands. Jolly patted Folio, who had dropped a couple of tears again. Bryan had to look away, he wasn't used to see the drummer like this.

"Yeah?" Noah asked softly, his eyes full of hope.

"Yes"

The singer opened his arms for her and she didn't doubt. They hugged tight, Noah supporting almost her whole weight. Abby cried and cried, her shaky and weak body not being able to restrain the sobs anymore. Minutes passed and they eventually moved to the sofa.

Sweet Folio was quick, he went and covered her with a blanket.

"You must be cold"

"Thank you" She whispered. She felt awful in her clothes now. Clothes she had chosen only to be more attractive for a man she didn't know. But now the blanket and Noah's arms covered her. And he held her with so much care.

At some point she stopped sobbing and the room felt light enough that the guys resumed their cards game. There was music on the background and everyone was way more relaxed. Things wouldn't be easy, but for now they could only rest and forget about all for a second.

Noah kept repeating his words over and over again, beating himself for having been, maybe, too harsh.

"Noah" She whispered.

He looked down and cupped her cheek gently, brushing some tears again and fixing her hair.

"Mhm"

"I'm going to change, okay?"

"Of course, do you want to go to bed?"

She shrugged.

"I don't think I can sleep"

"That's fine. Just come back when you finish"

Abby nodded. When she sat, she looked at him and sighed. It was time to face reality. But for now she would rest. There was a long day tomorrow. She leaned and kissed his cheek.

Noah was blushing. He was blushing so hard when she left and closed the curtains that decided the bus.

He turned to look at the guys and then moved to sit next to them.

"You good?" Jolly asked.

Noah nodded. "I am. I feel better."

"Yeah, she is here" Folio added. They didn't see Abby in the same way, but she was too precious for them.

"Yeah"

"Will you tell her about..." Nicholas started.

"I will. Just... Not now" Noah pinched his hand. "But I will. It's worth it"

Nicholas smiled at his friend. When Abby was fine, months ago, he kept telling Noah about it. He wouldn't shut up. But Abby made his best friend happy and Nicholas only wanted the best for him.

They, being themselfs, didn't pay attention and never thought that the brown curtain didn't stop sound. And Abby was on the other side wondering what it all was about.

She reappeared a few minutes later on her pijamas and sat with them, finding a spot next to Noah and quickly asking if she could play.

"It's nice to have you back" Folio said after a while, making everyone smile.

The next morning came fast and she found herself following Noah to a coffee shop. They had stay awake with thst game for too long and everyone was in high need of caffeine.

Abby didn't leave his side for a minute.

"Abbs" He called her after finding a table. "Do you wanna sit for a bit?"

"The others..."

"They can wait"

Abby nodded, there was a conversation hanging in the air and it was the moment.

She sat in front of him and Noah grabbed his hands.

"I have been thinking and... I don't want to pressure you to tell me anything if you are not ready." He stated. "I was a bit harsh last night. And I'm sorry if anything I said hurt you"

"It's okay" She muttered. "Believe me it is. I was waiting for it to happen"

Noah frowned a bit.

"Noah... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"Abby, you did not... You don't have to..."

"I did it on purpose. I was feeling things and it got out of control so I... I became a bitch"

Noah closed his eyes for a second and grabbed her hands harder.

"Abby... I know you don't feel it like that but... This is a much bigger problem. This is something we need help with. For now... I'm just happy to have you back and to help you the best I can."

He didn't want her to blame herself because he knew how dark one's mind could get.

Abby blinked the tears away.

"Okay?"

She nodded and dried the tears.

"Noah... I..."

"Okay, breathe"

She took a deep breath and before speaking, she kissed his knuckles.

"I have to tell you something. Because I think it is what has led me to this"

Noah nodded. In the end, this was what he needed to know the most. He wanted to understand.

"I think I have feelings for you. But I don't want you to... I don't know. It's so confusing. I don't want yo to feel you have to do something or say something. But it's very scary because the last times I loved someone it ended in the worst way. And I am scared of going through this with you. Because you are so precious and important to me. You are not just some random guy. I know it's not a justification, but I wanted you to know"

Noah was speechless. He wanted to ask why she hadn't said anything, but he wasn't in a place to speak either.

"Abby... I'm sorry"

She closed her eyes. There it was, rejection.

"I'm sorry you felt like this. And I can't promise it won't end horribly. But I can promise you I will give everything I have to keep you close"

Abby took a deep breath, his words sinking slowly.

"Noah... What do you..."

"It's not time, I think we need you to get better first. But I have feelings for you too. I wish I had told you sooner, though"

A tear fell down her cheek and Noah leaned to brush it. His thumb nested on her cheek.

"Look at me"

She did. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to.

"We'll get through this. You have me and the guys. We are all here for you"

She thought of Folio's words and smiled. She turned her face and kissed his palm.

"Thank you" Her voice was weak, but Noah heard her perfectly.

"We all love you, okay? I love you"

She nodded. "I love you too, I wish it wasn't that scary"

"That's fine. It won't be soon"

She nodded.

"I can't have you right now, Noah. But I will get better"

"That's fine for me. I'll be here"

The bartender called his name and snapped their bubble. "Time to go, ready?"

"Yeah, I'll go to the toilet real quit"

Noah nodded and waited for her outside, it was sunny and he felt warm, but it was because of her. It hurt to hear her say this all had happen because of him - in some way-. But it had also given him hope. Hope because she wanted to get better.

"Hey Noah" She appeared with a shy smile. "I know what I said about waiting... But..."

He smiled at her awkwardness. "I'm waiting miss"

"A kiss? Maybe... If you want to, of course. I'm just... It's dramatic. But I'm dying for it"

Noah laughed and stepped closer to her, his hands were occupied with the coffee so he couldn't touch her. But he leaned and Abby found him halfway. Their lips touched for them first time and Abby felt herself blush. He was so soft when kissing. It didn't last much but they both pulled back smiling.

"Okay... That was really nice"

Noah chuckled. "I think I can give a few of those once in a while"

She nodded. "I'll be happy" she didn't let go of his face for a moment, forcing him to look at her.

"Sorry for hurting you. And for being mean"

Noah nodded. "I forgive you"

"Thank you"

Noah kissed her forehead.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, Matt texted me begging for the coffee."

Noah chuckled and started walking with her by his side. There was a scary walk in front of them, but for now this was more than enough to make him smile.

This one ended up being reaaally long for my liking so I had to part it. I'll be writing and posting the following parts soon. It won't be too long, probably 2-3 parts.

I hope you like it!!!

Part 2. Bring back the pieces.

[blosssombunnny]

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

Height, Dom vs Sub, Sex drive, Fave thing physically about themself, Chest/Thighs/Ass, etc

┆ ┆° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Warnings: nsfw, I’m a tall girl so to make myself feel better I make them all tall af hehe. !Female reader!!!

Lucifer is 7’ tall in my humble opinion. I believe he is a Mean Dom 85% of the time. The other percent is him being a sub-ish switch. He will not hesitate to punish you. Even when subbing. He can switch back to being an asshole really fast.

“Tch… What did you think would happen? You need to learn to stop mouthing off.”

He will make you beg for mercy :) Whether that’s on your knees or on your back. He likes to embarrass you and make you blush and stutter. It makes him feel powerful. He would pay Mammon 1 million Grimm to get you on your knees on his hard wood floor. Staring with crossed arms at the pathetic thing before him.

His sex drive is probably Medium to High. But he tries to ignore that part of himself. So when you two first start fooling around it might be hard for him to hold back that repressed energy. 

His size is 8” and its a little less girthy than a pop can lol. It’s very veiny and cut. His balls are slightly bigger than average. About golf ball sized. He loves having that skin sucked on. He is very very muscular, like Diavolo, but is more of a rectangle build. He’s not quite as big as Dia either but comes close. His hair is a dark raven with a very subtle undercut.

His favorite part of himself… he wouldn’t admit it, but he loves his smirk. He’s knows what it does to you. He’s also loves his hands. He’s sees how you stare and will try to flex them and make the veins pop out. On you however, he’s definitely loves your ass. He wants to smack it ever time you walk past him.

Mammon is 6’8” :) I believe he is about 65% dom and 35% sub and 100% brat. He wants to be a cool mean dom so bad but he really can’t handle it most of the time.

“Come here…. Just… come here ok?!”

He’ll grab your elbows and pull you in close. You don’t miss the quiver he has in his voice. He won’t say what he wants unless you really push him to do it. It’s to embarrassing to admit for him. But he has no problem making you do the same when he’s fully in control.

I think his drive is pretty high. But he gets a lot of that satisfaction from gambling and doing risky things to compensate for not having sex. It takes a special kind of person to understand Mammon and he hasn’t found many people like that. But with you… he’d be willing to go all day. Someone who loves him for him. Someone who can make him feel happy and heard. He can’t resist it.

His dick is 7 1/2” but he’ll tell you it’s 8 ;) it’s about the thickness of a healthy cucumber. Not as thick as Lucifer’s. He is uncut and pretty veiny. But it’s mostly covered by the extra skin. His balls are about the same size as Lucifer’s but the skin feels a bit looser. They smack harder against your ass ;) He is very well built and works out often with Beel. His hair is pure with an iridescent tint. It’s gorgeous and soft.

His favorite part of himself is his torso. He’s jacked and loves to tell people about it. He knows it makes people blush. And for you he loves your chest. He loves to tease you by touching them and flicking your nipples through your shirt. He likes to feel them perk up and see you squirm.

Leviathan is 6’6”. He is 70% sub and 30% soft dom. He can go hard but it’s very rare. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious doll. It’s really hard to get him to initiate. When you do it he gets flustered…

“H-Henry!? What’re you saying?… N-No! I don’t think we should do that…”

-5 seconds of eye contact-

“O-ok… maybe we can.”

If you look. You’ll see him twitching in his pants at this point. If you continue to advance he won’t resist much. He will definitely whine a bit and complain but he’s loving it. His whines and cries make both of you blush. Sometimes, if you’re being to cruel with teasing he will put you back in your place. He still wants to feel like your big strong knight in shining armor. He will flip you over and pound you until he can release all that teasing you have done. It’s your turn to beg and whine. But he won’t have any of it. I think his sex drive is low but he thinks it’s a lot higher. He’s always horny but sex is too draining for him to do too often.

His top dick is 7.5” and the bottom is 8”, both are very thick. A little less than Lucifer’s. He doesn’t shower regularly… His torso is the least built of his brothers. He’s pretty skinny and doesn’t have much muscle or fat. He has a toned body but it’s just quite thin. He is also very pale and has almost blueish skin. His hair is dark blue and slightly wavy. It lays a bit fluffier on his head.

His favorite part about himself are his cocks of course. How could you not be proud of that. They aren’t very veiny and he is uncut. His balls are average size and kind of tight. He lovesssssss your thighs. A close second is your chest. Your thighs are just so plush and perfect. He loves to mark up the skin with hickies and bites.

Satan is 6’10”. He is 90% Dom and 10% little kitten. Every once in a while he will want to play the sub role. But it is not at all common for him to ask for that. He likes to be in control and punish you over little things. He will of course have a safe word (like all the others) in case he goes too far.

“Mmm no not yet. You can take a little more cant you kitten?… Ohh yes you can. Cum once more for me ok?”

His words are so sweet and smooth. It’s impossible to deny him. His drive is pretty low but when you do it he is going to make it count and make you feel good. He prefers other methods of showing intimacy and love.

His cock is 8.5” and an average girth. It is slender compared to most of the others. The only thinner one is Asmo’s by a little. He is cut. He has a very beautiful body. Think Greek marble statue. Not too big, not to thin. Simply a work of art. He has amazingly detailed muscles. Why must he always hide these. His hair is a beautiful blonde. It almost shimmers gold in the sun. You can see it glint at certain angles.

His favorite part of himself is his powerful stare and words. He can make you come undone just by his looks and savory sweet words. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it. He seems like he’d be a thigh man. He loves to place a hand there while reading and working. It’s his favorite place to lay his head when you read to him.

Asmo is 6’ even. Not unusually tall. It looks great on him. He is 70% Switch and Tease, 20% Full Sub, 10% Soft Dom. He loves to do everything. Even all at once. He usually will choose to be a teasing and slightly bratty sub. Name a better power bottom.

“Oh my god MC. You just looked so beautiful in that dress. I’m sorry I dirtied it but I’ll buy you another! I love when you dress up all pretty for me.”

Even if he ruins an outfit with… fluids, you won’t be mad at him for a long period of time. You can’t be mad at that gorgeous, sweet face. He’s too precious. Something about his eyes really draws you in. Sometimes you can sense the warm pink glow emanating from his eyes. His drive is whatever yours is. He can accommodate to anybody. Do you want some space? You got it you want to have sex five times a day OK sounds good to me!  Truly, the best thing about this man is how well he understands emotion and relationships.

His cock varies from person to person. He can slightly change his cock to make it more suitable for the recipient. Normally it is 6.5” and slender. It’s beautiful and pink. It it’s uncut and smells like roses. It tastes phenomenal. Sometimes it’s a little bigger. Sometimes a little smaller. With or without veins and hair. He can change it all. His body is similar to Satans. God statue 2.0. He is slightly more slim and feminine however. He has slightly wider hips and a slim waist. He is slightly tanned too. His hair is also fluffier like Levi’s. It is also a peachy pink.

His favorite part of himself is everything! But if you make him choose he would say his tongue and then start winking and poking you while giggling. His favorite part of you is your neck and shoulder area. He lovesss to mark it up and feel the pretty bones. He sees them as an amazing sculpture of some sort. He loves to massage you as well. Especially your shoulders

Beel is 7’3”. A massive friend, I know. He knows too kind of. He is 60% Soft Dom, 20% Neutral, 15% Hard Dom, and 5% Sub. He loves to feel like he has control and is protecting something cute and small. He loves it. It makes him feel almost feral.

“MC get back please. I’m begin serious when I tell you I will not hold back.”

He is hard to get a read on but once you do it’s often when it’s right on top of you… You’ll quickly realize he is a very good dom. He suddenly finds his words and will speak up and speak often. It’s a bit surprising at first. You don’t listen to his warning, you find out the consequences. His drive is Low to Medium. He doesn’t need a lot of sex to feel good intimately. He finds intimacy in eating together, bathing together, just cuddling too. He is a big teddy bear after all

His cock is big. It’s really big. It is 9.5” and a little less thick than a soda can like Lucifer. His balls are Heavy. They are big and smack you hard when he fucks you like the animal he is. His cock is uncut and has a bit of a musk. It is very clean though. It’s very veiny and heavy. When fully hard it can’t stand very straight. The weight pulls it down. His body is hands down the best in shape. He works out daily and is in peak physical health and has been for the past 300 years. He has a light tan. His hair is dark orange and a bit more dark red at the roots.

His favorite part of himself is his mouth unironically. He loves it because that is his only way to eat. And he also loves it because he can enjoy his favorite meal and pleasure the meal with doing it!

“Ass or Tits Beel?”

“Mmmpussy.” As drool drips from his mouth

He just loves your beautiful pussy so much. It’s gorgeous to look at. It tastes amazing. It feels so good. It smells so sweet. He would do anything for another taste.

Belphegor is 6’2”. He is 100% brat. But other than that he is 50% Dom, 30% Neutral, and 20% Sub. When he’s being dominant it can look and feel pretty cruel. But then he also loves to let you take the reins and fuck him while he lays there and is pleasured like a pillow princess. Sometimes he will like to play the sub role.

“Tch. I’ll bite you if you don’t stop squirming. Just let me lay here for a minute.”

He will try to touch your chest and feel around. He may ever end up jumping your thighs as he lays on top of you. He will always persuade you into doing most of the heavy lifting. His drive is kinda hard to tell. It’s not super high and intense. It’s more like, he doesn’t need sex a lot but will always accept it and enjoy it if you offer. Even if it’s every morning and night. Just don’t expect him to do any crazy positions that are tiring.

His cock is 6.5” and is the smallest of his brothers. Amos’s is slightly bigger. It is uncut and has a strong musk. His balls are average and kind of tight. He has a fair amount of pubic hair. His cock is long and pretty like Satan’s. Just shorter. That doesn’t matter though. It still hits all the right places. For some it might even be the best since they are all so much larger than humans normally. His body is pretty thin and is similar to Asmo’s build. But Belphie has less muscle mass because he doesn’t do much exercise. He has messy and slightly tangled dark bluish grey hair.

His favorite part of himself is his fingers. He is a master with them. That’s all I will say hehe. His favorite thing on you is your chest. He loves holding them, squishing them, licking them, laying on them. Anything to feel the soft skin.

Diavolo is 7’5” and the tallest in my Headcanons! He is a confusing mix of desperate Sub and handsy Dom. He will take the Dom role about 75% of the time. The other 25% is him being a sub and releasing his mommy issues.

“Mmm MC please… Just say it again. Right in my ears, say ‘I love you Diavolo’.”

Touched Starved. Barbatos and Lucifer keep him at such a distance from everyone. He wants nothing more than contact. And when you give him that he will get addicted. He’ll beg you to let him breed you and make you a Queen. But don’t make him wait too long. He’ll get impatient.

His cock is 10” and is the biggest in Devildom. It’s massive and so thick. His balls are so heavy and big, another set of breeder balls. They leave bruises on your ass from how hard he will pound into you. It’s cut and so veiny. He keeps it nice and clean but always seems to have a slight musk. His body is amazing. He isn’t as muscular as Beel but he’s still bigger. He has such a beautiful inverted triangle body shape. His skin is a beautiful and warm medium tan color and his hair is a light wine red.

His favorite part about himself is his thighs. He loves watching you grind in them. He can be a bit mean and humiliating but he always makes it up so good for you. His thighs are so thigh and big. Perfect for sitting on. His favorite thing about you is your ass. He loves grabbing it and watching it move as you do… anything really. It’s so perfect to him. But so is everything else about you.

Barbatos is 6’4” and one hell of a butler. He is comfortable being either role. But his preference is to be Dom 95% of the time. The other 5% is Sub.

“MC please let me take care of you tonight. You have been working so hard. I’ll make you feel so much better.”

He won’t stop till you are completely satisfied. He loves to be in control and please you. He will take orders from you and do what you want but he is always the one who is controlling everything else. The movements, the speed, when you can cum. He can be so mean but will never leave you unsatisfied.

His cock is about 7.5 inches and cut. It’s thickness was pretty average. Enough to give you some stretch but not too much as to hurt you. He always smells fresh and clean. His cum also vaguely tastes like cleaner. His balls are nice and round, tight too. He keeps himself clean shaven down there. He’s slender but surprisingly strong. He must be. What if Diavolo passes out.

His favorite part of himself is his hands. He’s very good with them. Massages are amazing from him. He rarely takes his gloves off but will for you. He would not want to tell you what his favorite part of you was. But if you beg he will break. He loves your beautiful eyes. He loves watching them tear up as you pout.

~~~

A/N wow this took forever to write 🫠 hope you all enjoy

[selfloverrrrrr]

can you please write a fic about female reader non-conning megumi? thank you in advance!

Shy...huh?~

Warning: smut, heavy smut, noncon, unprotected sex, bullying, Yandere, obsession, shy boy Megumi, obsessed reader.....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Megumi Fushiguro. The shy guy of jujutsu high. He was handsome af... Who can say he's not good looking? But he was so shy. He doesn't even talk that much. Me, Yuji and Nobara were his only friends. He didn't knew... actually nobody knew I liked him. I'm obsessed with him. And I stalked him...

It was a normal night going on. I knocked Megumi's door. He opened the door after a few minutes. "O-oh ,y/n... You here?" He asked with shaking voice. "Yeah....umm actually... I was trying to sleep...but you know Nobara and Yuji are our for a mission.... So I thought maybe we could watch movies or something" I said. "Oh...umm...y-yeah... it's okey " he said and let me in. 'this can be the chance ' I thought.

We were on his bed watching TV and talking with each other.... The time passed. "y-you want anything?" He asked shyly. I looked at him. " Yes...." I replied. "What?" He asked. "You" I replied. "H-Huh?... I don't understand what you said" he said. I brought my face closer to him and said"I want you " I grabbed his hands and pinned them down . "W-what are you d-doing?" He asked with fear. I sit on his lap. Fear got him by his neck. "Don't be scared.... I'm not gonna hurt you!" I said . I trailed down my hand from chest to his clothed erection. "What do you want???" He asked me with sceared voice. "You....as mine" I replied and started unzipping his pant.

"S-stop" he said. I pulled down his pant and started undoing his shirt. "P-please stopppp....why are you doing this?" he asked. I could hear his breath uneven from fear. " I don't like when other girls look at you " I said while rubbing my hand on his boxer on his erection. His breath hitched. " You are mine.... I hate when those girls of our class looks at you " I said tugging on his boxer. "I don't know... I really don't know what you're saying" he replied. " I don't like when someone stares at something which is mine" I said and pulled down his boxer.

"PLEASE.... Please stop.... please stop" he begged. Tears started forming in his eyes. I grabbed his dick and started stroking it. He squeezed his eyes shut. "What if you want to give someone else what's mine???" I whispered. "I won't...I promise I won't... please just stop... I'm begging you" he said. Tears started falling from his eyes. I licked his chest and bite on his nipple. I heard him groaned at that. I smirked.

I went down to the level of his dick and put it in my mouth. He moaned loudly. I started rubbing my tongue around his dick. His dick was too big. Barely fitting in my mouth. I stroked the rest with my hand. I sucked on his tip harshly and pull out his dick with a 'pop'. I looked at it. His tip became so red I had barely done anything yet. When I pulled out his dick his hips automatically bucked upwards... seeking for release. I smirked at that.

I went up and cupped his chin with my one hand. "Are you a virgin?" I asked. He just looked at me with teary eyes. I tighten my grip on his chin. "I asked you something" I said. He nooded. Tears still falling from his eyes. I smirked. "That means I can make you mine" I said and took off my skirt and pantie. His eyes widened. I lined my entrance with his dick "Please please please y/n please..... I'm begging you.... I don't want this... please....I don't want this" he sobbed. I went down and we both moaned loudly.

I started riding him. Going as fast as I can. We both were moaning like sluts. Noone could ever imagine that his dick could be that long. His dick was touching the deepest parts inside me. I knew I couldn't hold it long. He was still struggling and sobbing and babbling words like 'please stop ' ' I don't want this ' etc. My pussy clenched around him and he moaned out so loudly. After a few minutes we both came together. Megumi became so weak he fell on the bed and I fell on top of him. We both breathing heavily.

"I love you so much.... I love you more than anyone...." I whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[kalinysu]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄. — Akaza x F!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You were a normal human, a little sick as well. You had issues walking and needed nightly doses of medicine to help you get better. One day, you had went out into the nearby forest to pick some berries late at night. You met a man named Akaza, and the next thing you knew, you had woken up in a place that looked to be someone’s home.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Abusive behavior, Stockholms syndrome, kidnapping, dark themes.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I got this idea from a story on a otome game I used to play all of the time. Just a little modified and differently written.

You had been sitting in the forest for a while now, picking the little red berries off of the bush you sat next to and placing them in the basket beside you. You weren’t supposed to be outside, and especially not this late, but you needed some fresh air. You had stumbled and struggled to get over to the spot due to your illness, but with time you eventually made it without being spotted.

When you were about to get up and head inside, you found yourself not being able to get up and walk. Maybe it was cause by the position you were sitting in, but you couldn’t stand. And the nights cold air made your cough worse. You had began to cough and sneeze more frequently, until you heard approaching footsteps.

At first, Akaza planned to just ignore your frail figure almost laying on the ground. He despised the weak, and would have never even stopped to look at you if you didn’t speak to him. “U-uhm..” You stuttered, unsure of how to ask for help. Though when he turned around, you both looked equally stunned. He was a demon, definitely. You could see his fangs in his slightly opened mouth, and he didn’t look human at all. For him, those pink eyes and black hair of yours had set something off within him. You looked exactly like his late wife.

You were unable to speak or move, your whole body trembling as he approached you. Your eyes fixated on his every move, wondering if he was going to hurt you or not. You let out a small squeak as he lifted you up from the ground. “M-my home— it’s back over that way…” You said, weakly pointing in the direction of your village. He looked where you were pointing, then looking back down at you in his arms. He simply ignored your request of taking you back home. You wanted to fight back, to protest against him taking you but soon enough, everything went black.

You woke up to the sound of shifting beside you, followed by a pattern of uneasy breathing. When you noticed the pink haired demon beside you once again, you gasped, immediately sitting up. His yellow eyes had been fixated on you most likely the whole entire time you were asleep. “Please, lay back down darling.” He said, placing his hand against your chest and pushing you back down into a laying position. “Don’t worry about a thing, i’ve even retrieved your medicine for you.” He said, placing a hand on your head and gently stroking your hair. You flinched at his touch, but you were so frozen in fear that you could hardly even think straight.

“N-no I.. I need to go back home.” You said, trying to get up but he wasn’t very willing to let you do so. “Home? This is your home, my love.” He said, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “M-my friends and family…” — “You don’t need friends. You have me anyways. And we can start our own family.” He said, only causing you to panic even more. He seemed pleased with the thought of having a family, but you were scared. He was a demon, you barely knew him and you were still sick.

“There’s nothing good back at that village of yours. Nobody strong enough as I am to protect you from demons. You have nothing to worry about. As long as you obey and listen to me, you’ll always be safe.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead. His words were reassuring, but the last sentence frightened you a bit. You were safe from others, but were you safe from him? What would he do if you disobeyed him? You were a little afraid to find out. You stayed silent, looking away from him, which is when you noticed your clothes were changed. You were wearing a pink kimono, with a white circle pattern. It faded into a snowflake pattern at the bottoms. You began to grow more and more nervous. Has he really seen your body? You were trembling by now.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I already told you.” He said, sitting up and getting up out of bed. He walked around to your side and helped you sit up. He then carefully lifted you into his arms and sat you down on the cushion in front of the vanity. “Stay here, i’ll be back soon.” He said, gently patting you on the head before leaving the room. You could move, but just barely. Not enough energy to be able to get out of the room.

But it didn’t hurt to try. Your shakily stood up, taking a few shaky steps towards the door. But when you opened it, you ended up falling. Or so you though. When you looked up, you saw Akaza once again. He did not look happy to see you trying to leave only a minute after he told you not too. You were ruining his idea of the perfect wife. His old wife, Koyuki, never tried to escape him. Naturally, he was a little pissed. Shoving you back into the room, causing you to fall. He walked in fully and shut the door behind him, placing down the hair pins he had grabbed onto the vanity.

You were quite shaken, a little afraid to even make eye contact with him. When he walked over to you and grabbed your arm, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. He forced you to sit back on the cushion, forcefully wiping your eyes before your tears fell. “Don’t you dare cry.” He said, hearing your sniffles. He simply ignored your whimpers, working on your hair. “See? I already told you. If you listen to me, you won’t get hurt. Just don’t upset me.” He said, giving you a small smile and wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.” He said. Shakily, your nodded, trying your best to hold back your tears.

Over time, you had began to lose hope in ever leaving, and began to rely more and more on Akaza. Anytime you wanted to leave the room, he’d accompany you, always having at least one hand on you if not both. He never let you out of his sight, and of course that meant he’s seen every inch of your body.

You were attached to him now. You couldn’t go for even five minutes without his touch, you need him near you at all time. He was pleased with the outcome, loving the way you relied on him for everything. Sometimes, if you ruined the perfect wife image he had, he’d either physically hurt you, or simply leave you in the room on your own over night to teach you a lesson, forcing you into the mold of a woman who was long passed. Until you were practically her, and he was ecstatic about it.

You were happy as well, him hurting you or leaving you was very rare. He had also stopped calling “Koyuki”, and allowed you to pick your own kimonos and hairpins. He allowed you to be yourself when it came to appearance sometimes, but you had to keep your personality exactly the same or there would be consequences.

He was even happier when you were able to walk normally, and your illness was starting to go away. Though sometimes he did threaten to get rid of your medicine if you tried to escape. Last night, you needed help finding something but Akaza was on a mission. When he returned and you weren’t in the room, he was livid. He didn’t let you explain, and immediately put it as you trying to escape, even though you were just looking for him. He hurt you badly, and left you on your own. This was only the second time he left you, and it was for way longer too. So naturally when he left, you sobbed for hours.

When morning came, you had woke up to the sound of the door opening. “A-..Akaza?” You called out to him from in bed when you noticed he was finally back after leaving you over night. You were quick to get out of bed and hug him tightly, just as he expected.

“Good morning, love. Did you learn your lesson?” He asked, not giving you any physical attention until he was sure you weren’t going to mess up again. You nodded in response. “I thought about it all last night.. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You said. He smiled, placing a hand on your head with a small chuckle.

“Good girl.”

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Count: 1.7K

Rating: Explicit🔞

On AO3

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII

Chapter tags: POV second person, Kokushibo is bad at Feelings

XIII.

“Hisami.”

You stare up into a lavender gaze. Pale skin, framed by long, dark strands. 

Your surroundings are blurred, but the one standing so close is clear as dew, down to the very fabric of his clothing and the long black lashes fringing his shadowed eyes. 

You… Who are you? The question won’t leave your mouth. A mere spectator, trapped in a body not your own, a voice not your own. 

 “...Where are you taking your father’s swords?” 

“Please… I want you to have them.” Your grip on the cold scabbards tightens despite your words.  

“I have my own. You know this.”

Your whole body shivers and a deep, harrowing ache grinds itself deep in your chest, pierced by regret and bitterness.

So much… bitterness.

“Michikatsu…” 

Torn away, you’re falling.

A deep chasm divides you, and down below, time gushes like waters forgotten; an endless river, undisturbed, careless of both sorrow and loss. 

You cry out his name, your voice carved into the barren walls of the abyss. 

He does not turn; deep down you know he never will. And still you try, yelling until your throat is raw, until all you catch is a glimpse, a vision forming like the shattered pieces of a mirror binding together.

The stranger stood there, turned away from you. 

You retreated, fighting against the paralysis of fright. 

“Will you kill me?”

He looked over his shoulder at you. 

This is… the first time we met? 

His features were a blur then, but now, you see him. 

You up and ran, as fast as your legs could take you. Again, again. The chasm crumbles, myriads of red spider lilies sprouting from the fissures.

“But… anyway, that sword…I lost it in the debris, didn't I? It’s gone.” 

“Is it?”

That sword… 

That sword.

“Hisami.”

Your eyes snap open. Chest heaving, breaths heavy. You’re in the same chamber from last night. Slowly, you rise, pressing a hand to your face. A dream, yet another one of those entangled weavings you can make little sense of, but this time something was different. 

“... Hisami?” you murmur to the empty chamber, turning your face to the budding dawn. A foreign name, imbued with so much when uttered by the man in your dream. 

You’re alone. He disappeared the other night, leaving you burning and wanton. You prop your forehead against your bent knees. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Why did you do it? Why did you think this time would be different? You know what he is now, he’s never hidden his cruelty.

But neither did he hide his kindness, for what it’s worth.

The way he looked at you then under the moonlight beckoned you close, closer, but that calm refusal broke all and any pursuit. 

Maybe he does think of you as… lesser. Humans are weak, isn’t that what he said? 

But then why did you help me, why bring me here? Shaking your head, you reach for the cane. Your fingers glide over the smooth surface before you hoist yourself up. Slow and limping, you advance to the terrace, trying to discern the path to the waterfall. 

Maybe he did abandon you here after last night. Maybe you should have tried harder to rein in that need to touch him.

Once you descend the wooden stairs that creak under every step, the ground floor of the manor spreads before you—just as empty, with richly embellished fusuma panels partitioning the space.

Alone, you wander outside, beneath the tall evergreens, following an old stone path leading to the waterfall. Washing is made difficult by your physical impediment and the water is cold, but a welcome caress to your healing body. 

It all takes you so much longer than it would normally, but you make do. Tomorrow you'll be swifter. And the day after. Already the wound in your calf hurts less, the agony muted when you move.

You dress with slow movements, and afternoon is upon you by the time you return to the manor. Weak rays of sunlight kiss your face, but your thoughts are on the cold, elusive moon.

Peculiar is a word barely encompassing the way things go, here. Day after day, you’re fending on your own in this seclusion. Resting, making your slow way to explore the manor—after all, you were given no warnings. You find writings, works of beautiful poetry. It’s often that evening finds you in the same place, reading words unsigned. 

At night, you rest, sometimes you dream the same dreams that have you rise with cold sweat beading on your skin, your mind trapped inside the same circle of images. Longing. Bitterness. Loneliness. When you stir awake, you’re alone.

But some nights you find the andon lamp lit in the far corner, and nourishment placed by your side every other day. Sometimes you feel it in your beating heart that you’re not alone; but there’s no one there, no matter how often you call, or how pleading your voice becomes.

It’s on one such night that you’ve had enough, panting from a nightmare plagued by amethyst eyes turned ruby gold. “I… know you’re there.” You gain your feet, using the cane as reassurance, mostly—your wound is much better, flesh healing at a rate you never imagined possible. 

“I know… you’re there!” you repeat, louder this time. No answer. “Will you not show yourself?”

You leave the chamber, following along the empty corridor. Somewhere to the right, there is another room. Weak golden light escapes from it, into the darkness. Frowning, you approach. 

When you reach the entrance, you think your eyes may be deceiving you, at first. 

He sits at a writing table, back straight, a brush in hand. The weak light of a candle flickers in a holder, hallowing his profile. He’s not heeding your presence, and so you enter, unhindered, kneeling by the table to watch. He’s focused on the task, wrist turning in elegant, controlled motions, symbolism and meaning come alive with every brushstroke feeding the paper.

You’re intruding on more than his solitude but at the same time cannot bear your own any longer. You find it soothing: the carefully chosen balance in the characters, the bold straight lines. It reminds you of times when you’d watch old masters at this craft in your early years of adolescence. Your eyes follow the kanji being written: makoto. Truthfulness. 

The next one is just as vibrant, exhibiting a rhythm of its own as black glides over white: the kanji for kemono. Beast. The symbol enraptures in its beauty. Wild, hungry. His calligraphy is flawless. 

You watch his unchanging expression, upper and lower eyes mere slits as he focuses, then glance at the tools set on the table. Your lips part to speak. “May I grind more ink for you?...”

The demon says nothing. The brush pauses, set on the holder. 

Taking that as assent, you shift towards the small ceramic water dropper and pour a few drops onto the inkstone. Your movements are slow and deliberate—your father had taught you, long ago, that tools are to be respected as much as the artistry they yield. His gaze is on you as you take the charcoal ink stick and gently rub a few times against the inkstone, allowing the pigment to mix with the water. 

When done, you bow your head, hands curling back in your lap. 

The brush resumes its descent on the sheet of paper. You’ve learned that this art form is an aid to meditation, self-discovery and attainment of clarity. The brush is more than a tool, but a conduit between one’s inner world and its expression in the material plane.

The fact that you’re here, seeing this, did not happen on its own. He allowed it to happen. 

What is your inner world made of? You yearn to know. But more than that, you want answers for yourself.

Your gaze follows the flow of ink as new meaning forms on paper: kizuna. 

Bond.

To your greatest surprise, his hand trembles on the last stroke, rendering an imperfect finish. 

You take the chance. “There’s something you're keeping from me.”

Nothing.

“I dream.” Your voice breaks. “I dream of things I’ve never lived, places I’ve never been. Over and over again. At first, I remembered near to nothing, but the images became clearer the more time went on. Pieces of a life.” Your hands ball to fists in your lap. “There is always one constant.” You raise your gaze to his; he meets your eyes, unflinching, a crimson more intense, more scalding than the flame of the candle brushing both your figures. “You’re always in them.”

He sets the brush down, gazing long at the paper.

“Please. Ever since I’ve met you, I feel as though I’m losing myself, my sanity fraying to layers I can’t mend. You’ve told me what you are. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. But… who are you?”

A hollow smile changes his face. “You ask the wrong questions.”

You lower your head, a deep seated despair rushing to the fore. “Are they not worth some kind of answer?”

“And you’d be content with a crooked one?”

“Please, enough games, no more cryptic questions!” Your breaths are harsh, your heart leaping in your throat, but not from fear. “Don’t disappear again. Don’t leave me wondering, clawing at my own mind, alone, with your shadow always out of reach.” You’re begging, pitifully at that, but the need to know is stronger, overwhelming, crying out like the raw, primal force of the beast brought alive by his brushwork.

You jolt suddenly as your hot cheek is met with the cold touch of a finger. Close as you are, kneeling on opposite sides of the table, you’re startled and rendered silent as he wipes away a slow, errant tear. 

“Tell me... of your dreams.”

The dream scenes are the flashback from part VII, and their first meeting in part I.

Part XIV

AN:

Shodō or the 'Way of Calligraphy' is a form of artistic writing of the Japanese language. In addition to taking part in martial activities, young samurai would also be taught music, mathematics, healing arts, and calligraphy among others. The art of brush writing came to be considered an important part of spiritual training. As a samurai, Michikatsu would have been familiar and proficient in this art form.

[stxrmxtsu]

I know this sounds wierd af but um…how likely do you think the brothers would touch S/O’s boobs or butt (WITH THEM ENTHUSIASTICALLY CONSENTING OF COURSE)

GIRL YOU AIN’T WEIRD FOR ASKING CUZ I WANT THEM TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT

also i added a little personal touch to this since at first i didn't understand your ask, and i kinda just rolled with how i read it, so IM SO SORRY IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU MEANT

(small update: i got a little lazy and 'to the point' with these because this fandom is slowly slipping through my fingers :( so sorry if it isn't top tier)

tag(s): talks about booties and boobies so slight NSFW warning, ichimatsu being lowkey obsessed with you (as he should), etc.

osomatsu:

you don’t understand, he NEEDS to have a hand on you at all times. especially on your ass. he would constantly ask if he can touch your tiddies, even in public, and with your ENTHUSIASTIC consent, you’d mostly say yes and not care that others are watching but when its an actual inappropriate time, you’d be like “BOY SHUT UP”.

i think he likes touching your ass more tho and he more often than not, does the ‘put hand in the back pocket of your jeans’ thing.

karamatsu:

kara is also a 'put hand in the back pocket of your jeans' kind of person, but i think it's more of a 'im being protective of my woman/ kind of thing', but we all know....that's only half of the case.. i believe that karamatsu is a pervert but he chokes that shit down and hides it with his 'omg im so cool' facade. he gets nervous when he gets close to your tiddies tho, even if you consented or just did not care if he put his hands all over you, he would be like 'nope respect women juice comes first before my sick perversions'

choromatsu:

its a given, he's awkward as all fuck. listen, you consented, you told him you didn't care if he touched you, and he still sits there and stares at you awkwardly waiting for you to initiate something first.

one time though, he actually mustered up the courage to touch your boobas while you were making out and then he got cocky and started squeezing your waist, down to your ass and you moaned, of course, but his brain processed that as 'oh my god i hurt her' and he pulled AWAY.

you didn't forgive him for that one and he has apologized so many times since that day.

ichimatsu:

he's also a pervert that chokes it down, but i think in a relationship, his sick mind comes out more. OF COURSE, he would ask you first, he would never just let his intrusive thoughts win. and with your surprisingly enthusiastic consent...

all hell breaks loose..

what have you done, [name]?

that man is just as bad as osomatsu, his hands are EVERYWHERE on your body.

i think his favorite place is your ass tho. idk, its the perfect place to rest his hands on and he especially loves laying on it when you two have your lazy days.

he's just happy you exist tbh and he can do whatever he wants without having to feel bad about it.

jyushimatsu:

alright let me just make this clear, jyushimatsu is just as perverted as his other brothers, he just also drinks his respect women juice.

but once you give him free reign over touching you..

he's so 'cute' about it though, i think? he likes to mask the fact that he's tryna touch your tiddies with 'aww a hug from behind! how cute' kind of thing.

WE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE JYUSHI.

todomatsu:

totty is.....totty. of course he would wanna touch your tummy more because of your belly button, but this is about boobs and booty. i think he's in the same boat as jyushi, 'mask the fact that he's tryna feel you up with a cutesy act' thing.

if you're taller than him (this is gonna get self indulgent), he likes to rest his chin on your chest (boobs) and look up at you all innocent, like, YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE TODOMATSU.

i think in general though, he doesn't really touch you anywhere, even with your spoken consent. the only times he'll probably touch you there is when you guys are getting....steamy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the end! im so sorry this took so long to get out to you, anon. my life is just really busy and i never really have time off to myself anymore but hopefully this makes up for your wait! as i said, i did get a little lazy and just came up with some things on the spot but i hope its still worth reading! (i mean any matsu content is matsu content).

and as stated, my hyperfixation for this fandom is slowly dwindling but i really hope i can get back to it and get this content out for you guys!

also mini life update: i started my ear stretching process for gauges! its still very small and hopefully i can get it to a decent size, i don't want them TOO big because...ew.

[campingwiththecharmings]

Safe Haven

AN: This has probably been done already but I saw a prompt (“Can we stay like this just for a minute longer?”) and immediately thought of Marc so, hope someone other than me enjoys it. It's self-indulgent af, ngl. This is my first Moon Knight fic, please be gentle (I legit agonized for weeks about getting Marc's characterization right 😭).

Without another word, you walk to him, your bare feet padding softly across the floor. He jumps a little when you touch his arm, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His smile is apologetic but strained when he looks at you, his muscles tense. You begin to look him over, your fingers gently tilting his head this way and that as your eyes scrutinize every inch of him. “I’m okay,” he says again, this time softer, his hands coming up to rest over yours, halting your inspection of his face. “I can’t get hurt, remember?”

Rated: T (for references to violence/blood) Words: 2,325 Pairing: Marc Spector x GN!Reader Warnings: hurt/comfort, a little more angst than I’d anticipated (oops), softness, touch-starved!Marc, unresolved sexual tension, yearning, brief mention of blood/injuries. AO3

——————

It’s late when he knocks on your door. 

He looks weary, the dark circles beneath his eyes visible even in the darkness of the hallway.

“Marc,” you breathe, your eyes doing a quick once over of him. 

Streaks of blood mar his skin and the sight makes your stomach drop. 

“I’m okay,” he says quickly, evidently sensing your distress.

Your eyes flick back to his, the panic rising in your chest dissipating a fraction at the earnestness of his gaze. After a beat, you nod, waving him in and closing the door softly behind him. He shuffles across the room, the sound of his boots rasping against your area rug filling your ears before he stops. After bolting the door, you turn, studying him from across the room. His arms are limp at his sides, head bowed slightly as he stares blankly at the wall. You chew your lip, ignoring the pang of worry that stabs through you. 

Without another word, you walk to him, your bare feet padding softly across the floor. He jumps a little when you touch his arm, seemingly lost in his thoughts. His smile is apologetic but strained when he looks at you, his muscles tense. You begin to look him over, your fingers gently tilting his head this way and that as your eyes scrutinize every inch of him.

“I’m okay,” he says again, this time softer, his hands coming up to rest over yours, halting your inspection of his face. “I can’t get hurt, remember?”

That’s not entirely true, though, and he knows it. Sure, Khonshu’s power heals his physical wounds, but what about the others? The ones you can’t see, the ones deep down inside him, the ones he tries to hide, that he ignores. This life is killing him. Maybe not his body, but his soul, his heart. It eats away at him, you know it does, you see it in his eyes, in that look he gets when he thinks you’re not paying attention—he’s haunted.

He’d never tell you that, of course, not when he’s spent most of his life thinking he’s a burden to everyone around him, that he’s an inconvenience. In his mind, he’s already asking too much of you just by coming here, by accepting your help. The knowledge makes your heart ache. 

He forces a smile, trying his best to alleviate your concern. You hold his gaze, unable (and unwilling) to smile back, to help him lie to you, to himself. Realizing he isn’t fooling you, he looks away, the corners of his mouth turning down, that little crease between his eyebrows making an appearance.

“Come on,” you say softly after a moment, loosely threading your fingers through his.

He lets you guide him without a fight, trailing behind you as you lead him toward your bathroom. Once inside, you release him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a washcloth and a few towels from the closet. Marc stands in the doorway silently, half in, half out. You gesture for him to take a seat on the closed toilet seat before wetting the washcloth in the sink. He sits heavily as you wring out the excess water, blankly staring at your hands as you work. 

Turning to face him again, you briefly pause, eyes flicking over him as if you’re considering where to begin. What you’re really waiting for though, is for him to look at you. It takes him almost five minutes to meet your eyes, to pull himself back from wherever he’d gone. 

“Still okay?” you ask, allowing your lips to quirk a little.

He nods, averting his eyes again. “Yeah.”

Sighing quietly, you step into his space, close enough to smell him, to feel the warmth of him through his clothes. He looks up at you from where he’s seated, eyes guarded, yet somehow still pleading (though, for what, you’re not entirely sure). Gently, you press the damp cloth against his cheek, dragging it slowly down toward his neck. You know that he doesn't really need you to do this, that there aren’t any cuts or gashes that need tending to, but he doesn’t stop you, somehow knowing this is just as much for you as it is for him. 

His eyes are on you as you work, slowly dragging the cloth back up his neck and over the underside of his jaw. His throat bobs when you take his chin between your fingers, tilting his head to the side as you move the cloth over the other side of his face. His breath skims over your skin as he exhales softly, eyelids fluttering a little at your touch, as if he’s fighting not to close them. Your heart aches for him, aches at the thought that this is likely the only non-violent physical contact he’s had in weeks; it’s one of the reasons he comes to you, you know. He’ll never admit it, will never tell you that he needs this, that he needs your attention, your care, your softness. You keep moving the cloth over his skin long after the smears of blood are gone, if only to give him a little bit more of what he’d never let himself ask you for. 

When he starts to fidget, you stop, slowly stepping back and meeting his eyes. They are closed off again and you ignore the sharp stab of disappointment that laces through your chest, mentally scolding yourself for daring to hope that this time would be different. You gesture toward the shower stall behind him, clearing your throat in an attempt to break the tension that’s settled between you.

“You finish up. I’ll, um, go find you some clothes to change into.”

He nods, reaching for one of the towels you’d left for him on the counter. “Thanks.”

You hum in response as you turn away. His eyes are on you again as you leave, boring holes into your back as you close the door softly behind you. A sigh escapes you once you’re on the other side, whether it’s relief, disappointment, or a mixture of the two though, you’re unsure. 

You don’t really know how to describe what this is between you and Marc. It’s not a friendship, not exactly. It’s certainly not romantic. There’s trust there, yes, but it’s never gone beyond the longing looks and you giving him a safe place to lay low. There is something there though, a kind of tether, one that keeps you connected to him and he to you. You have a soft spot for him, one that makes it impossible for you to ever let him go, even though you know you probably should. He’s never going to give you what you want, he doesn’t think he can, that he’s even worthy. 

You wish he’d try, though. You wish it so much it hurts sometimes.

A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are folded and stashed in the back of your closet. Marc had left them the last time he’d been there, and you hadn’t had the heart to toss them. You pull them from their hiding place (still wondering why you even felt the need to hide them in the first place) and stare at them for a moment, your fingers lightly caressing the soft cotton of the shirt. You leave them in front of the closed bathroom door, knocking softly to let him know that they’re there. There’s no response from inside, just the muffled hiss of the spray from the shower. Trying not to linger, you turn away, heading toward your kitchen—gods, do you ever need a drink.

You grab a glass from one of the cupboards and pour yourself a finger or two of the whiskey from your secret stash. It burns your throat as it goes down, warming you from the inside out and you close your eyes with a sigh at the sensation. After a long moment, the sound of someone clearing their throat reaches your ears and you open your eyes to see Marc standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

He runs a hand through his damp hair and points at the bottle of liquor beside you. “May I?”

You nod, studying him as he walks over, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes. He looks even more tired in the stark light of your kitchen, the bruises beneath his eyes purple, his jaw clenched, his shoulders more rounded than usual. You bite back a smile at his mussed hair though, his curls far more unruly than you know he likes them to be, and suddenly, you’re struck with the urge to pull a brush through them, to tame them, to quell the chaos (be it inside or out). He’ll say no if you ask him outright, wouldn’t dream of putting you out like that (as if brushing his hair of your own free will is an inconvenience), so you have to get creative.

“Would you do something for me?” you ask, your eyes and voice soft.

His eyes flick to yours as he swallows his mouthful of whiskey, his tongue swiping across his lips to catch any of the excess.

“Of course,” he says, nodding as he looks around the room, as if trying to anticipate your request. “Whatever you need.”

You smile and start to walk out of the kitchen, no doubt leaving him a little confused. When you enter your living room, you nod toward the bathroom. “Mind grabbing my brush? It’s in the drawer on the right.”

He nods again, shuffling over to and then through the door. When he returns, you’re seated on your couch, flipping through the various channels before settling on some mindless show. You motion him over when you notice he’s returned, hoping he hasn’t figured out your true intention. He still looks confused (and maybe a tad suspicious) as he hands you the brush. Your fingers graze his as you take it, and you see this throat bob as he swallows.

“Sit,” you say simply, motioning to the pillow on the floor between your feet.

His brow furrows, the crease between his eyes deepening as he looks between you and the pillow. “What?”

“Please,” you say softly, your eyes pleading. “Sit.”

He stares at you for a moment longer, trying to figure out what the purpose of this request is. His brows unfurrow a fraction when he figures it out, and he looks away, embarrassed. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He meets your eyes again, his deep brown ones hesitant but curious. 

“Please, Marc.”

After a moment, he nods, sighing quietly as he takes his seat on the pillow between your feet. He’s broader than you anticipated, and you have to widen your legs a little to accommodate him. Once you have yourself situated, you get to work, gently pulling him so his back is resting against the base of the couch. He fidgets as he sits, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists in his lap.

“Comfortable?” you ask, leaning forward enough that you can see the side of his face.

“Not really,” he mutters, and you huff a laugh through your nose in response.

You lean back, raising the brush and setting it at his hairline. You pull it through gently, taking care not to pull on any of his curls. His hair is beautiful, you’ve always thought so, have longed to run your fingers through the meticulously styled locks. You prefer it when his curls are like this, unruly and free of the product he uses to keep them in check. It’s softer than you’d imagined, the dark strands like silk against your fingers. He’s silent as you work, his body still tense. Little by little though, he relaxes, his shoulder pressing a little more heavily against the inside of your knee, more of his arm resting against your calf. 

Longing wells inside of you as you brush and you chew your bottom lip, as if to stave it off. Not for the first time, you wonder why he doesn’t want this, why he doesn’t want you. Was there something wrong with you? Were you too pushy? Too annoying? Too accommodating? Maybe there was someone else—the thought results in a sharp stab in your chest that you quickly shoo away, unable (or unwilling) to deal with it at the moment.

No. Instead, you settle for this; savoring every touch he allows, every moment he spends in your presence.

You’re finished far sooner than you’d like, his curls untangled and (mostly) lying flat. There’s that one curl though, the one above his right eyebrow that never seems to want to lie flat; it’s rebellious, stubborn, always breaking free from the confines of the styling gel he uses. It’s your favorite, you think, always falling across his forehead or into his eyes, unwilling to be tamed.

“All finished,” you rasp quietly, an inexplicable sadness welling inside you.

His hand wraps around your ankle as you move to let him up. His grip is gentle, but insistent, and you pause, a little shocked at his willingness to initiate this type of contact.

“Can we just…stay like this for a little longer?” he asks, his voice soft and a little rough.

There’s a pang in your chest at his question, one that somehow both cuts and soothes; he doesn’t feel like he deserves this kind of attention, this softness, yet he allows you to provide it nonetheless. Emotion swells in your chest and suddenly you’re thankful that he can’t see your face. You clear your throat, willing your voice to remain neutral.

“Sure.” 

He nods in thanks, leaning into you even more heavily than before and something inside you cracks a little. This time, you forgo the brush, instead combing your fingers through his locks, heart stuttering in your chest as he leans into every single touch.

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