#obviously. so I will probably delete this soon

[thepavementsings-archive]

Just read a tweet that said "the only person who wouldn’t be afraid to speak about Palestine would be Seb, but unfortunately he is not in F1 anymore😔🥺"

be so serious.

[ssreeder]

Hi so I'm probably going to reread liab soon and like catch up bc the last thing I remember reading I think they were in BSS and they've probably moved on from there now like I think it's probably been like a year since I've read it I think I remember trying to reread at some point but then I stopped so trust I'll properly do it this time probably maybe but anyway the point is it occurred to me I haven't talked to you in ages so how have you been my beautiful Sreedy?? I miss annoying you and sending you mysterious anon emojis but honestly I like to think I've matured a bit since I used to do that I mean max will probably tell you otherwise but don't listen to her her opinion is irrelevant also don't listen to anything Merlin says ever bc we met in person and they're actually just a little bitch so yeah um ily im going to start liab now and if not now soon and I might put updates in the discord if im feeling it but also im looking forward to finding my old embarrassing comments I used to leave on every chapter so theres that

HELLO AGAIN 👋 LOVE YOU ��� I MISSED YOU

HIIIIIIIIIIIII BEAUTIFUL SPYYYYY!!!

I wholeheartedly agree about M&M (Merlin & Max) and the fact you traveled all the way to visit Merlin is IMPRESSIVE but now you both need to come visit Max and then roadtrip down to Florida. Mmmkay? & funny story is the boys are STILL in BSS haha. The fic will end in BSS(ish) - so we’re still there preparing for battle haha. I also slowed down quite a bit with updating & spent a lot of time giving the boys some healing and getting through some conversations & building up situation-ships but now would be a good time to catch up considering we’re about the battle it out! Yippieeee

as always spy you’re amazing <333333 you three stay out of trouble haha

[theshadowrealmitself]

Ty @phanboyo for the tag!

Rules: Make a new post and post your latest line from your WIP & tag as many people as there are words.

“Because every time you say being with me is “logical,” all I can think of is how many things I hate doing but do anyways because of logic, like being civil instead of punching jerks cause I don’t wanna spend a night in jail! I just worry…that you secretly resent being with me…”

(Oof, I am not going to be able to tag that many people but I’ll give it my best shot)

@warlock-pan-astronaut @pandorasparad0x @asterism343 @lenacraft @roundaboutnow @charmps-you-grickly @hopeful-bat @kelpeigh @zephyrwrites @dyinggirldied @ghostface3100 @daxsleftshoe @zero-way-out @chickenlover-19 @vivacia-18 @reveriewings @madametamma @magicalprofessorsludgedeputy @reckless-desire-to-live @bllbabaggins @kaisspamblog @mystic-fairy-tame @auroraborealis95 @harley-rose25 @mango-meister @candyheartdoe @ghospectr @easilydistractedandamused @ashoutinthedarkness @quetzalrofl @screamingrunawayzombie @they-meme-well (giving up here cause I’m a quitter 😭😭😭)

[cheekblush]

i'll be taking a break from tumblr bc i really need to focus more on my studies 🙈🙊🙉

[astonmartinii]

the king of monza can do what he wants | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem alonso!reader

the king of monza can win the race, have his relationship exposed and challenge his soon-to-be father-in-law to a duel, he can do what he wants.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

oscarpiastri

liked by olliebearman, danielricciardo and 432,095 others

tagged: lilyzneimer, yourusername, charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri: double header means we crashed on my adoptive parents' couch and forced them to cook for me (only y/n, obviously)

view all comments

user1: does he know this isn't his private account?

user2: SHUSH DON'T TELL HIM

user3: we need to enjoy this while it lasts

jackdoohan: oscar, there's still time to delete this

oscarpiastri: why would i delete this?

oscarpiastri: oh

oscarpiastri: oh no

jackdoohan: you might want to warn your kinda dad you've exposed the identity of your kinda mum as your kinda grandad is probably putting out a hit on him as we speak

fernandoalo_oficial: don't call me a grandad 👿🤬😡😠💢😤

jackdoohan: OSCAR QUICK HE'S DISCOVERED EMOJIS HE MUST BE REALLY MAD

user4: fernando, are you okay?

fernandoalo_oficial: i want that frenchies head on a stick

charles_leclerc: i am monegasque!

fernandoalo_oficial: so you do actually want to die?

yourusername: okay let's calm down old man

fernandoalo_oficial: SILENCE I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! THAT'S THE MAN?

yourusername: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: no.

charles_leclerc: i object!

lancestroll: his eye hasn't stopped twitching since

charles_leclerc: i don't care! he might be crazy but I'M IN LOVE SO BRING IT OLD MAN

user5: wtf have i woken up to this morning

user6: the public execution of the prince of monaco

yourusername: just because he has a samurai tattoo doesn't mean he knows how to use a sword

fernandoalo_oficial: i will tear him apart with my bare hands

user7: i fear this comment section alone has undone all of his funky grandad tiktok PR

user8: he's going to make charles cry in the press conference

yourusername: oh well, charlie is hot when he cries

user9: and how do you know that...

yourusername: that's none of your business 😈

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,312,088 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: italy has my heart and so do you <3

view all comments

user11: queen got exposed and immediately started flexing her unbelievably sexy bf

yourusername: why wouldn't i? he's so damn FINE

charles_leclerc: teehee (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

user12: you might as well have told me to kill myself

fernandoalo_oficial: enjoy your weekend charles, it will be your last

charles_leclerc: and if i win? i think suspended sentence?

fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 i have a proposition for you

yourusername: why are we acting like he wouldn't do that for free

carlossainz55: excuse me?

yourusername: i'm calling you a jealous bitch xx

carlossainz55: what is your price nando?

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not fucking paying you, i was assuming you'd do it in a jealous rage anyway

carlossainz55: ???

user13: the way carlos is being jumped from both sides unprovoked

user14: which ever alonso it is, they choose violence

oscarpiastri: so ... am i off the hook yet?

yourusername: you know we can't say no to you

fernandoalo_oficial: oscar you might actually be my favourite now, thank you for bringing this to my attention

oscarpiastri: sure i'll take it!

charles_leclerc: you can have my heart and everything else for as long as you want

yourusername: looks like you'll never get it back ;)

charles_leclerc: that's fine by me if i get to spend it with you

yourusername: i love you :P

charles_leclerc: i love you more ( > 〰 < )♡

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 1,209,566 others

fernandoalo_oficial: cash prize for anyone who can actually track down this little rat - i just want to talk i swear

view all comments

user15: it's official everyone, he's gone crazy

user16: as crazy as he is at least he's bringing the DRAMA 🤩

yourusername: this isn't very peace and love of you

fernandoalo_oficial: that has never been the way in this family

fernandoalo_oficial: but let me make this clear, i mean in a destroy all of your enemies way rather than a jos verstappen way

maxverstappen1: ???

yourusername: destroying our enemies does not mean you can do your best jos verstappen impression and drive your aston martin into charles

fernandoalo_oficial: don't be stupid y/n, the aston martin is too slow, i'm going to steal his brakes

yourusername: and how will you do that boomer

fernandoalo_oficial: ferrari are stupid they probably still haven't changed the passwords or locks since i left

yourusername: @scuderiaferrari excuse me???

scuderiaferrari: ....

user17: so like this is a genuine hit?

user18: mob boss!fernando alonso you are so special to me

user19: sorry charles but it's so sexy

charles_leclerc: drop the address senor i'm not scared of you

lancestroll: he brought the samurai sword btw

yourusername: @f1 DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY SECURITY MEASURES ???

f1: it made a good tiktok 👍

yourusername: you people are useless

charles_leclerc: no worries my love it's all under control

fernandoalo_oficial: i will carve you like a christmas turkey

yourusername: you go anywhere near charles with that sword we're both going romeo and juliet style

user20: what on earth is going on

user21: just smile and wave i think we're watching collective hysteria

f1

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 3,562,778 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: CHARLES LECLERC WINS FOR FERRARI AT MONZA

view all comments

user23: bro heard fernando was gonna steal his brakes and simply just drove so fast he didn't need them

user24: he was like 'oh you want my head on a stick? TRY AND CATCH ME'

yourusername: pretty boy is so so talented it's not fair

yourusername: who am i kidding

yourusername: STUNT ON THOSE HOES I LOVE YOU BABY

charles_leclerc: thank you baby, i simply had to drive so fast so i could give you a kiss

charles_leclerc: and also so i could tell your dad to SUCK ON THAT OLD MAN

user25: he's had too much champagne and might actually get himself killed

user26: i will throw myself in front of that sword for him

yourusername: you and me too buddy - i'll cover your drinks for this evening

fernandoalo_oficial: i still want him dead

charles_leclerc: what the fuck do you want from me? i just won? did you see that freak of an orange car? i look after your daughter like i looked after those tyres

yourusername: so romantic 🤭

fernandoalo_oficial: he just compared you to tyres? have some standards i raised you better?

yourusername: believe me, i do have standards - he's special xx

fernandoalo_oficial: i also won monza with ferrari he's not that special

user27: at least he's stopped with the samurai sword talk?

user28: he did say he still wants him dead though

maxverstappen1: @yourusername why couldn't you have dated lando? would've made this championship a lot easier

landonorris: HUH?

yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about standards

charles_leclerc: hehehehehe

landonorris: HUH???

charles_leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 4,523,099 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: grazie mille tifosi !! this is for you and all of your support. i'm glad my family and my love were here to see this win as well. fernando, bring your sword, i'll fight for your daughter's hand.

view all comments

user29: i love this family and i've known them a week

user30: fernando might have to go through me as well at this point

yourusername: i love you so much and you have deserved this and more for so so long xx

charles_leclerc: i couldn't do it without you (and our weird little grid family)

yourusername: you're my favourite person in the world and i just love to see you happy

charles_leclerc: you make me the happiest man in the world

yourusername: i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you too

user31: as cute as all this is ^^ where is this duel

user32: can someone PLEASE STREAM IT !!!!! I WILL PAY

user33: I NEED IT I NEED IT

fernandoalo_oficial: come outside

lancestroll: he spent all of the debrief sharpening the sword btw

charles_leclerc: i'm ready girlypop

fernandoalo_oficial: GIRLYPOP ???

yourusername: PEACE AND LOVE BOZO

maxverstappen1: can we get this show on the road please?

lewishamilton: charles please hurry up i've got some serious cash on this tussle

yourusername: how much we talking?

charles_leclerc: i might die and you're checking the wager?

yourusername: because i have faith in you !!!!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,136,344 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: he's alive and he's a winner! the king of monza can do what he wants

view all comments

user35: prince of monaco? king of monza? bro is collecting titles

yourusername: my husband next 🤞🏻

charles_leclerc: bet

user36: is ANYONE GOING TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DUEL

georgerussell63: it was extremely unprofessional and there will be an extensive powerpoint covering how this won't happen again

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll fight you next time george

user37: don't go off TOPIC

charles_leclerc: i out strategised him lol

oscarpiastri: what he means is that he surprised fernando from behind and wouldn't stop hugging him until he agreed that he wouldn't skewer him like a kebab

charles_leclerc: and it worked! now look he's on my boat giving me his blessing

user38: you're telling me charles hugged his way out of the conflict?

user39: perhaps the most babygirl he's ever been

user40: we need the pictures SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL

fernandoalo_oficial: fine, i guess he's okay. i'm not calling him the king of monza though

yourusername: i knew you'd come around

fernandoalo_oficial: i love my daughter SORRY

yourusername: don't lie to me you only calmed down and accepted it because i called in the reinforcements

user41: i'm crying she called babysitters for her dad

yourusername: jenson and mark, idk how you deal with him

jensonbutton: the stress of him and his antics keep me skinny

aussiegrit: i think we're all trauma bonded

charles_leclerc: i'll be the king of monza, if you'll be my queen

charles_leclerc: and i will continue to do what i want

yourusername: i'll be your queen anywhere you want

yourusername: and if doing what you want includes fighting my dad... let's turn it down a lil

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

fin.

note: here yall go - this was in my drafts half done from monza weekend but life got crazy

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Cadets Queen

A/N: This was inspired by a Tumblr Post I saw which got deleted 😭

“Look at that ass.” Reiner mumbled as he looked towards the shorter girl in the dining hall.

”You’re not talking about Y/N are you? She’s a bit older than us from what I heard.” Jean muttered as he placed boxes of food down.

”If I had to guess, she’s in her early 20s. Maximum.” Connie said as he looked at the beautiful girl.

”I got a chance then.” Reiner said as he smirked mischievously and crossed his arms over his chest, still staring at the girl in the distance.

“Reiner, you’re so different from the older brother figure when you say stuff like this..” Armin mentioned, getting Reiner to turn his head to him, a shocked expression spread across his face.

”I don’t blame you for saying that though, she does have nice uhm boobs too.” Connie admitted as everyone looked at him, shocked.

”H-have some respect you guys! That’s a female you’re talking about..” Armin stuttered as he looked at Y/N, talking to Petra.

”She’s got good thighs.” Jean simply said, ignoring Armin’s comment and smirking straight after he stared at them.

”Armin is right you guys. Y/N may be pretty but you shouldn’t stare at a woman like that!�� Eren said as he gripped the broom he held in his hand.

”What a hypocrite you are Eren! You say that like you don’t look up and down at her all the time.” Jean yelled, Erens face going red from embarrassment. “You really think no one sees?!”

”S-shut up Horse Face!” Eren shouted. “And I do not!”

”You g-guys should quieten d-down!” Bertolt interrupted as he tried breaking up the small argument. Looking up, they all saw Y/N glancing at the scene before them along with Petra. “S-she’s staring..”

Quickly waving at the group, Y/N awkwardly smiled before rushing away with Petra to the training ground. Blushing red, the boys began somewhat celebrating the small interaction with her.

”S-she smiled at me.!” Bertolt said as his face was flushed dark red.

”Bertolt don’t lie! She obviously saw how amazing I was at challenging Eren me ran away after she took a glimpse of me!” Jean exclaimed.

”Like hell! She probably ran away after seeing you horse face! She waved at me since I’m in the same squad as her.” Eren shouted.

”She looked so hot.” Connie said as he stood still, his face tinted pink.

”Did you see the way her body swayed as she left.?! I’m gonna marry her.” Reiner muttered to himself, which Armin heard.

”S-she was probably t-trying to be nice you guys!” Armin explained as he covered his bright red face.

“Oi.” A voice called out from behind them. Turning around, the emotion from their faces washed out as they met eyes with Captain Levi.

”C-captain!” Eren stuttered as he stood tall and saluted to Levi. “Do you need anything.?”

”Your cleaning is shitty as always. We have another experiment ready for you to do, so come with me.” Levi said bluntly as he walked forward.

”Will the Squad be their.?!” Eren asked enthusiastically, stopping the Captain is his tracks.

”Yes.” Levi grumbled, not wanting to turn back to see Eren sticking out his tongue at the other boys, but soon spoke up. “Y/N won’t be their since she’s busy helping with paperwork, Hange will be in her place.”

“Hah!” Jean exclaimed before zipping shut and allowing the Captain to leave.

”Dammit.” Eren muttered as he headed towards the hallway, leaving his guy friends alone. “Hange replaced with Y/N too..”

”She’s doing paperwork huh?” Reiner asked as he smirked again. “I’ll just walk by and y’know, ask if she needs help.”

”Reiner no.”  Connie grumbled as he held onto his leg as if it would stop him. “PLEASE! WE’LL SPLIT THE TIME! I BEG YOU.”

”You guys, that’s an invasion of privacy.!” Bertolt said as he follows after them, coming up with excuses to stop them from bothering Y/N.

”Reiner you damn bastard. Thinking you can allow yourself to do that to a woman!” Jean argued as he followed after them.

”You guys! We have actual chores to do y’know!” Armin said before running after the group. Meanwhile, Levi stood behind a large pillar listening to what they all had said. Even before he had stepped in, he listened in from the hallway right beside them. 

None of them ended up hanging out with Y/N.

.

.

.

Weeks went by and each and every one of the newer recruits got to know Y/N and talk to her more, to which the other cadets seemed to sigh at or shake their heads. Some of the recruits even receiving compliments and nicknames made them think they had a chance.

”Y/N is allowed to sit with higher ups?” Armin asked confused as most of the newer recruits turned to see her. Y/N sat between Hange and Levi, Erwin’s seat being empty due to an overload of work. Mike sat down in front of the trio before zoning out once Hange talked about Titans.

”She must be a highly skilled soldier then, she gets to sit with her Captain too.” Connie suggested before munching on his stale bread.

“Hey Levi, can I go sit with Petra.?” Y/N whispered subtly.

”….” Levi thought as he looked at his Squads table. “No. Too many guys.”

”Please! I’ll only talk to Petra when I’m there.” Y/N promised. Levi nodded before sipping on his tea, Y/N got up before strolling towards the Squad. Most of the new recruits and some of the older ones stared as she walked over to the distant table and sat down beside the short haired girl.

”These new recruits never know yet still try and make a move.” Mike mumbled to Levi as he watched Erwin walk in. “Surprised it doesn’t piss you off every time.”

”Trust me Moustache, you don’t know what to feel.” Levi grumbled as he sipped on his drink moodily.

“Good Afternoon. What're we discussing?” Erwin asked as he sat down beside Mike.

”We’re talking about the new recruits and Y/N.” Hange giggled before stifling her laugh. “Not to mention Levi being jealous.”

”I’m not jealous.” Levi bluntly said.

”Doesnt she call those new recruits nicknames?” Hange teased. “I don’t think I’ve heard her ever say anything like the names she calls them.”

”She doesn’t need to, we already have trust with one another. Besides, ‘Levi’ is enough.” Levi answered, still curious on what the other nicknames Y/N called the newer recruits.

Eren made sure to sit at a good distance from Y/N but still close enough to her, Eld and Gunther talked together and stopped Oluo from trying to make a move on you. Meanwhile back at the newer and much louder recruits table, Reiner and Connie began arguing along with Jean talking some nonsense whilst Armin and Bertolt tried calling them all down. 

“I clearly have a better chance with Y/N. You’re a horse-face in case you didn’t know!” Connie said as he looked at Jean.

”And you’re bald, what’s she gonna do with that bald head you got? Use it as a deodorant?” Jean angrily exclaimed.

”You guys really need to stop yelling..” Armin whispered to the duo.

”Yeah, yelling nonsense.” Reiner muttered. “Eren sitting next to Y/N, puckering up to her. Besides I have the best nickname so that means Y/N likes me best.”

”What’s your nickname then huh?!” Connie asked.

”You don’t need to know that, what happens with me and Y/N stays between us. That’s loyalty.” Reiner snickered.

”Calm down meathead. Y/N calls me the Great Stallion!” Jean said smugly.

”Only because Y/N was being nice to you. You really do have a horse-face.” Connie argued.

”You guys! Stop arguing, other cadets are getting annoyed.. especially the veterans.” Bertolt whispered shyly.

”Shut your mouth Mr Shy smile!” Connie said angrily, causing Bertolt to blush dark shades of red.

”Man those new recruits sure are noisy..” Nanaba muttered to Gelgar.

”I’m just glad one of them hasn’t said something too stupid yet.” Gelgar replied before chuckling.

”I’m just saying, I think I could take Y/N to the beds first and I’d be the best.” Reiner said confidently, loud enough for Levi to hear.

The cup in Levi’s hand had cracked as soon as the words left Reiner’s mouth, Erwin kept his calm posture however deep inside he was startled by the comment. Hange was close to balling her eyes off, whilst Mike had smirked.

”Never mind.” Gelgar muttered as he kept his head down.

”We spoke too soon.. Levi’s not going to take that right?” Nanaba asked quietly as she looked over at Levi’s table. All of a sudden, Levi stood up and walked over to his Squads table, heading towards Y/N. 

“Captain, is there something you need-“ Y/N began to say. Very quickly Levi kissed her temple before grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles too, in front of the Survey Corps.

”I’m going to do my paperwork.” Levi bluntly said as he tried dragging her off. “Let’s go.”

”O-okay.” Y/N stuttered before strolling away with Levi, smiling at his confidence. Meanwhile the whole of Mess Hall was quiet as they stared at the doors that the duo left in.

”She’s dating Captain Levi?!” Connie exclaimed, quickly breaking the silence.

”Isn’t he a lot older than Y/N? He’s like 35 and she’s probably 17!” Jean yelled, confused.

”She’s isn’t 17, who told you guys that?!” Eld asked from the distance. “Y/N is the same age as Captain Levi y’know!”

”WHAT?!” Eren exclaimed as he stood up, shocked at the announcement.

”Yeah! And she’s not dating Levi, she’s been married to him for the past… 7 years?” Petra said as she began pondering at the thought of their marriage length.

”God fucking dammit. All of the hot ones are always taken.” Reiner muttered as he slumped in his seat unhappily.

[sunny-jumpscare]

I hope you don't mind me rambling on your post but I find the topic of his birthday very interesting!

If we go by their ages since the first arc, it seems that Subaru got isekaid around January. Reinhard's birthday is January 1st and his age only gets updated after arc 4:

But Rem and Ram are 17 on arc 2 and on arc 3 they are now 18. I don't know how much time has passed between this 2 arcs but it seems that their birthday was during it:

And if we go by what Subaru says in the movie it seems that he still hasn't had his birthday that year, since he gets isekaid at 17:

So assuming that we aren't being fooled byt the wiki...it only.... makes the situation more tragic with his parents.

Because he was only a few months from being 18 and isn't that supposed to be a milestone on your kids life? They are 18!! They reached adulthood!

And instead they just... spend his 18th birthday (a date that I don't doubt, brought a lot of joy on that household, with how loving his parents are)... alone, probably scared and worried about their son's fate. They don't know his whereabouts, they don't know if he run away, got kidnapped or decided to just... end it all.

They don't know. And now they have to spend his birthday knowing that he isn't by their side and wondering if they had anything different...would he still be?

I think its important to remember that Subaru got isekai'd in fucking 2012

He is born in 1995, if not earlier.

(The first WN chapter published on the 20th April 2012, if that is also the exact date that he got isekai'd its extra sad that he dissapeared just 20 days after his birthday ;_;)

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that. 

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.” 

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow. 

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 

 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 

The lights flicker again and you're gone. 

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

[lunaviee]

ushijima headcanons bc bro needs more appreciation 🤗🤗💗💗💗💗 (and bc im rewatching haikyuu and im actually going INSANE.)

i feel like he kinda gained a habit of reaching for your hand a lot. idk why but he’ll stare at it for a minute and then just grab it wordlessly

1000% the kind of guy to get you “just because” flowers. i think he’ll see them at a local market and then make it his life’s mission to make you a pretty bouquet

he’s actually really good at cooking. he enjoys it, especially when he sees the glow in your eyes when you try his food

enjoys taking the scenic route when you guys take a drive somewhere. not only does he find the landscape beautiful, but it gives him more time to talk or even just be in your presence

speaking of driving, he definitely does that move where he puts his hand on your headrest when he’s backing out🤗🙏

i feel like he can read you really well. like if you’re uncomfortable somewhere or maybe just not feeling well, he tries to get you out of that situation

actually kinda going back to the hand thing, he rlly likes your touch. it’s so warm against his skin and he feels so at ease with you around

i feel like he’s very academically smart, his grades are impeccable and he’s always helping you in your classes. but social/street smarts? yeah umm not so much. it takes a little while to adjust at the beginning of your relationship but you soon find how well of a match you are for each other

back to the “reads you well” part, he also remembers everything about you. your order at your local coffee shop, why you don’t like certain foods, and will never forget a special date

he also likes spending money on you, insisting you buy that new shade of lip tint even if it looks just like the one at home, because with him around, you shouldn’t have to worry about a single penny

this one’s kinda silly but i just KNOW he’s the type of mf to bring in all the groceries in one trip

always sends you “good morning” and “goodnight” texts. but since it’s ushijima, it’s kinda like “goodnight, sleep well❤️” a little basic but trust me, he’s much better at showing his love in person

speaking of, his love language is definitely acts of service and probably quality time. whatever he can do to make your day a little better, he’ll do it

he takes such good candid pictures of you it’s actually insane. you genuinely don’t know how he even takes these without you noticing but somehow they’re always amazing

also, he doesn’t like deleting pictures of you. something about it doesn’t feel right to him so he’ll have a handful of pics that have your face all blurry or cropped out, but it’s still you so why should he delete it??

pls i just know his embrace is so secure and warm….. like you’ll ask for a hug and even if he doesn’t always understand how of why his physical touch makes you feel so special but he never declines

i know this is cliche, but he’s obviously strong af so picking you up is no problem and he’ll often do it if you get tired of walking. he also insists you sit on his back while he does pushups. his words not mine🤞🤞

cat lover. like one day you two went to a pet store to buy some treats for moms dog and he makes eye contact with a gray cat.

you guys forgot about the treats and ended up buying a bunch of cat stuff

✮ — haikyuu might bring back my motivation to write….

[fluentmoviequoter]

Poisonously Bad Day

Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)

Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.

As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.

“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”

“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.

“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”

You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”

“I think you know.”

Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.

The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.

“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.

The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.

“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.

When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.

“Hey,” you say.

“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”

Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.

“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”

You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.

After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.

The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’

You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.

Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number. 

“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding. 

Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.

You are next.

Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.

Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.

“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.

“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”

“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”

“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”

Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.

“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”

As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.

✯✯✯✯✯

Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.

“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.

There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.

After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.

The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.

“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.

“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”

Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it. 

“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”

“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.

“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”

“I don’t think you should be alone.”

“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”

Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.

Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.

Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.

Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.

Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.

“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.

“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”

You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.

A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.

Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest. 

After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums. 

A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.

“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.

Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.

“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.

You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.

“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.

The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.

You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.

“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.

She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.

When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.

Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.

Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.

Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.

You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.

You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.

“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.

“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”

“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.

“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.

Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”

“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.

“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”

“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”

“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.

“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.

Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.

You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.

Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.

“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”

Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.

“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”

You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.

“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.

“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.

“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.

He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.

Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.

“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.

“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”

You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.

“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”

“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.

Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.

You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”

“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”

“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.

Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”

You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.

“You love me?”

Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”

You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.

“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.

Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”

“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.

“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”

You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.

“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”

You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.

Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.

“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”

Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”

You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”

[makeyoumine69]

Spit In My Face

— PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: Fashion Week is in full swing in New York City and Patrick Bateman doesn't miss the chance to show you the world of luxury and beauty. So, he invites you to attend the fashion show with him. Through the chain of events that unfold there, you will see a new side of Mr. Bateman that you never knew existed.

— CONTAINS: Angsty romance, smut, toxic behavior, gaslighting, cheating, misogyny, hurt/comfort, seduction, swearing, flirting, sensual kisses & touches, jealousy, implications of self harm & panic attacks, (almost) character death, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, rough sex, finger sucking, spanking, biting, manhandling, choking, orgasm control, dry humping, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, Daddy kink, Praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman being an asshole (again).

— WORDS: 21k (oops)

— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face

— A/N: Hey guys! It took me a year to finally finish this and I decided to post all the parts together since most of you probably forgot what happened in the previous ones (I'll delete the old posts). I did some extra editing before posting and I hope you like it and I'm happy to get back to writing and soon I'll be rebooting the Cupcake series as I've already started working on prequels. Love you all!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST];[SERIES MASTERLIST].

Fashion, grace, money, wealth, these were the words running through your head as you rode in the taxi, and you couldn't believe Patrick had just convinced you to go to the goddamn Dior boutique. Not to mention the upcoming fashion show you were going to together, which was an actual nightmare for you and your nervous system.

“I really can’t understand. Why me?” You asked Bateman, turning in his direction to see him looking through the window, with his headphones on. And of course, he didn’t hear you. 

All you could do was give him a shy tap on the shoulder. You heard the loud beats of rock music as he opened one of his ears and turned to face you. "What?"

His slightly annoyed intonation almost discouraged you from repeating your question. "I'm just wondering why you decided to invite me to this fashion show when you have much better options." 

You watched him frown, and before you continued, you already knew what Patrick was going to say: "Cupcake, I've told you several times. I want to show you the beauty of being rich. I bet you've never seen so many fabulous people in one place."

Sighing a little sadly, you fixed your coat to distract yourself from the burning anger in your chest. "I've had enough of the rich snobs in our company and…I’m not a fan of all these 'luxurious’ things, you know…”

With a small chuckle, Bateman removed his headphones completely, quickly checking his haircut in the window's reflection. 

"Of course you're not. How can you be a fan of things you can't afford?" He stated before trying to hug your shoulders, but when he saw your intense expression, he just gently put his palm on your knee.

"Money is not happiness," you cast a serious look at him, brushing his hand away from your leg. "Can you call yourself a happy man?"

Perplexed, Patrick knitted his eyebrows, as if your question had caught him off guard —you have never seen him so lost before and that was really strange. Fidgeting in his place, Bateman was certainly about to replay something when you heard the raspy taxi driver’s voice:

“We’ve arrived.”

"Thank you!" You responded before quickly getting out of the cab without waiting for Patrick to pay for your ride.

Obviously, you were upset and pissed off because of his endless snobbish dialogues about rich people, money and how much his regular suit cos—tnone of this really interested you, would he ever understand that?

As soon as you were outside, you felt a stiff wind blowing through your hair, ruffling it and making your mischievous locks cover your face. Quickly, you brushed them away and raised your eyes to the beautiful sign that read "Dior" in large letters; so stylish, so plush—just the way he liked it.

"Are you going to stand here forever?" Bateman scolded behind your back, his loud footsteps forcing you to spin around. 

"I'm so amazed, I can't even move," you sarcastically sneered, staring at the window of the boutique. "The aura of richness has just overwhelmed me."

"How witty," Bateman almost applauded you, his lips curling into a cheeky grin as he came closer, his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. "Come on, let's go inside." With a light push on your back, he induced you to move forward, his arms never left your little form. 

When you finally reached the entrance of the store, Patrick gallantly opened the door in front of you and looked at you from above, his eyes glowing with an unfamiliar tenderness.

"Much obliged..." You stammered as he somehow managed to grab your ass, stroking it and squeezing your buttock a little through your coat. Embarrassed, you turned to face him, but Bateman just smiled in his usual smug way. 

"My pleasure." He murmured in your ear before letting you go.

Once inside the boutique, you heard someone greeting Patrick with undisguised excitement:

"Mr. Bateman! It's so nice to see you again!  Welcome to Dior, we are so happy to help you."

'Again, huh?' You chuckled to yourself, turning your gaze to a side and wondering about the number of his visits and how many girls had been here before; Bateman’s face changed almost immediately as if he noticed your reaction.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr. Graham,” you could definitely hear some tense notes in his tone. “You look great as always!”

The guy let out a little giggle; he seemed to enjoy the compliments as much as your yuppie boy. “Not as perfect as you!” he pointed his both index fingers at Patrick, and now was his turn to grin from being praised. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, I need a dress for…” he paused before staring at you, his eyes gliding over your completely relaxed expression. “For my good friend, but she doesn’t really know what she likes,” ‘good friend, with whom he slept almost every day. Nice shot, Bateman.' “Don’t cha, baby?” While saying that, Patrick groped your cheek, pinching it a bit.

Mr. Graham, who was supposed to be a local stylist, gave two of you a suspicious glare, and only then did Patrick understand what he was doing, pulling his hand away as if it had been burned. 

"Well, if the young lady doesn't mind, we can try something to your taste, Mr. Bateman," the stylist confirmed, examining you like a statue. "What do you think?"

"Great idea," Patrick exclaimed, pulling you into his arms to take off your coat. You almost fell into his embrace, whimpering as he 'accidentally' touched your boobs, squeezing them gently. 'Fuck, why should he be so obnoxious?' "I can't wait to see my Cupcake in one of these beautiful dresses." He whispered before leaving a tiny peck on your neck.

"That's very sweet of you, but..." you murmured, looking into his hazel eyes. "I don't think I'll fit into those dresses."

"Don't worry, honey." Bateman winked at you and gave you a quick slap on your butt to nudge you toward Mr. Graham, whose smile widened the longer he watched the two of you together.

“Please, follow me.”

Trying to distract yourself from all the bad thoughts, you just did what you were told and moved along countless hangers with new dresses. The further you got away from Patrick, the more insecure you became, and that strange feeling made your whole body shiver like from a cold shower.

“So, which color do you want to try on first? Maybe something dark?” the man asked you, sliding his hand across the beautiful fabric of some dress nearby. “Dark blue or dark red…Or even black?”

"I really like the black color, it goes with almost everything."

Mr. Graham chuckled amusedly and handed you a black cocktail dress, which of course was very short. Apparently Patrick didn't like long dresses or skirts, you already knew that, but that didn't mean you were happy about it.

“Mm-mh, and I think this one can fit too,” he gave you another dark blue dress before adding. “I still recommend you to have a look at our new collection, maybe you’ll find something interesting.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time of the day. "Those amazing dresses I saw when we just entered are from a new collection?"

“Yes, Miss.”

"I'll check them out. And… thank you, Mr. Graham." Excited, you smiled again, and then you strolled away, a pile of dresses in your hands.

Once you reached the place you had been before, you heard multiple voices—one of them definitely belonged to Patrick while another one seemed to be unknown to you.

"What are you doing here?" You peeked out from behind the hangers to see a beautiful blonde girl, her face literally glowing with enthusiasm. "I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while." You didn't even have to look to know what she did next as the loud pecking sound echoed in your ears as if you had been hit with something hard.

The blonde left a small kiss on Patrick's cheek before he replied. "Good to see you too, Meredith."

“Are you here alone?”

“Mm-mhhm,” Bateman looked around and when he didn’t spot you, he added almost emotionlessly. “Yeah, you can say that.”

An instant pain burned in your chest, causing your hands to cling to the dress you were holding. Breathing heavily, you were about to send everything to hell and just leave, but for some reason, you decided to listen to their conversation, maybe you would learn something else about yourself being nothing but an empty place.

"So, are you going to the fashion show this weekend?" She asked cautiously, as if testing his line.

"Sure," they looked into each other's eyes for a while. "You know, I never miss things like that."

The way she giggled, forced you to close your ears from cringe, but that unpleasant sound kept bouncing in your head.

"Do you have a date or not?"

"Why do you ask?" Bateman retorted in a stern but concerned tone.

"I just... I thought maybe we could go together?" Flirtatiously, she pulled him closer, pretending to fix his coat.

"I'm sorry, but the answer is no." Frowning, he quickly took her hand away.

Ashamed, she stepped back and stalled. "You could just say you already have someone to go with and…"

Patrick scowled in irritation, cutting her off. "I'd still say 'no' even if I didn't…"

"Miss, did you find something you like?" Mr. Graham's sudden voice made you jerk and drop the super expensive dress with a thud.

It felt like all eyes were on you at that moment, and you didn't really know what to do other than quickly pick up the dress and act naturally. “God, I’m so sorry…I can be so clumsy sometimes!” You apologized, trying to ignore Bateman’s intense gaze. 

"Don't worry, Miss… it's not a problem!" The stylist assured you, matching his words with reassuring gestures.

"I'll pay for everything,” Patrick pronounced it so calmly and with absolute confidence, as he moved in your direction. “Have you finished?” 

First, you cast a confused glance at him, and then you looked at Meredith, her mad stare of disbelief almost making you laugh. “I think so,” you murmured, watching him getting closer. “I even got some of the new collection.”

“Ahh, is it so?” he teased, standing face to face with you. “Come on, let Daddy see what you’ve got.”

With that said, Patrick leaned over to your lips, and you let him pull you into a deep kiss, which was pretty surprising—your own behavior almost scared you, as you didn’t even care about people watching you making out. Deftly, he grabbed your waist to lift you up, but your audible protest compelled him to stop.

“Pat-Patrick…” you whispered against his mouth. “P-please, don’t forget where we are…”

“I know, I know,” he snickered softly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. “I just missed my Cupcake so much.”

With a dull grin on your face, you pulled away from him to look into his dark brown eyes. "Really?" After you asked that, you glanced at the blonde girl behind his back, who was now talking to a middle-aged woman, probably the assistant.

“Time literally stopped for me when you left.” 

'What a beautiful flattery.'

After a while, you changed into the next dress because all the previous options didn't get Bateman's attention, even though you really liked them. You were struggling with a clasp when you heard him whine in anticipation.

“Baby, did you fall asleep in there?”

“Almost ready!” You blurted out before fixing the dress straps on your shoulders.

And then you walked out of the dressing room to the circular runway, and yes, this boutique had a special VIP area with a fucking runway.

"Finally, my favorite style," Patrick flattered, sitting in the leather chair and holding a glass of mineral water with a little lime. "Mm-mm, this dress outlines your tits so perfectly, not gonna lie, I like it."

A bit humiliated, you were constantly fixing the hem of the dress as it was too short for you, especially when Bateman was looking at you so vigilantly, making you feel yourself like a picture in some art gallery.

"Baby, turn around and…" he paused, crossing his long legs and pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop crawling! Square your shoulders and straighten your back!"

You turned around, unable to hide your sadness. "I… I don't feel comfortable in this. It's too short," you glanced at his annoyed face, wondering if you should continue. "I'm almost naked!"

"But that's the point!" Patrick tilted his hand to the side and was silent for quite a while, clearly thinking about something. "You know what, Cupcake?"

“What?”

"I'll be honest, this dress is amazing, but… unfortunately not on you," he scoffed before taking a sip of water. "It's not a problem, honey. Just take it as motivation to be better."

Biting your lip, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't try to hide your pain and resentment, but your voice sounded dejected anyway. “Of course… keep pretending that you didn’t expect this…”

Humming to himself, Bateman squinted his eyes and leaned on his knees. “Expected what?”

“That these slutty dresses wouldn't fit me,” you glared at him, your body was yearning to get rid of this dress as quickly as possible. “Goddamn, I have enough of this…I hope you enjoyed this little performance!”

After saying that, you turned around and went back into the dressing room. Trembling with rage, you didn't even care what would come next as the searing flame of injustice overtook your mind. No way would you allow anyone to treat you like that.

"Shit!" You cursed as you attempted to undo the fucking clasp on your back, but it didn't seem to work. 

"If you keep pulling like that, you'll tear it apart for sure," his unexpectedly gruff baritone shot through your back like an arrow. "Let me help you."

"No!" You almost screamed, turning sharply to face him. Your chest rose and fell so abruptly that you thought you would choke on the air.

Sneering, Bateman gently extended a hand as if you were a wild beast he planned to tame. “Cupcake,” he was getting closer, forcing you to walk backwards. “Tell me…what’s wrong?”

"What's wrong?" You kept stepping back until you suddenly bumped into the wall behind you. "Maybe you should ask yourself first?"

"I think you should stop pouting or you will get wrinkles," he tried to be nice to you, but it only made you more upset. "I don't think either one of us wants that to happen, am I right, honey?"

“Stop it, Patrick…”

“Mm-mhh, it’s just Patrick now?” You didn’t even notice that his massive figure was already towering over you, pressing you a little against the wall. “No ‘Daddy’ anymore?”

Possessively, Patrick strived to cup your face, but you flinched away from his touch, coaxing a warning growl to break from his perfectly shaped lips.

 “Can you just leave and let me change?”

“Jesus, (y/n)...you’re acting like a stubborn child!”

Panting, you leaned your hands against his firm chest to push him away a bit. "Do you really think I'm in the mood…after all the rude things you said?"

He chuckled, looking at you from above and giving you a feeling of being so small compared to him, you almost stopped breathing. “Rude things?” laughing again, Bateman trapped you between his arms as he put them from both sides of your head. “I always say what I think, there’s nothing special about it…”

"More likely, you always think only of yourself," your voice wavered, and you found it hard to breathe, as if he was sucking all the oxygen out of the air. "Let's just skip this, if you still want me to go with you..."

“No, I don’t need you to do me a favor.” Patrick shushed you with a finger, pressing it against your lips, leaving you trembling like a leaf. 

“And I don’t need your help!” You tried to break away, but he kept you in one place. 

“Oh, is that so, honey?” he crooned in a sweet tone, rubbing his nose against yours; his seductive aura was almost intoxicating, it was corrupting your mind stronger than anything else in this world. “Honestly, I just wanted to help you undo the clasp but now… now, I want more than that…”

With no delay, Bateman covered your mouth his heated one, wrapping his brawny hands around your quivering frame and spreading your legs with his knee. Suffocated, you didn’t react, feeling his hard bulge brushing against your mound—a muffled moan of sudden pleasure pierced through your bonded lips, sending chills down you spin; your cute reaction didn’t surprise him, but Patrick couldn’t hide his satisfied grin as his hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress. 

And only now, you desperately clawed at his shoulders, weakly pushing him back, not understanding that your attempts to fight him were only putting gasoline on a fire, encouraging him to sprawl you against the wall, pinning your hands against your head.

"P-Patrick!" The way you almost screamed his name made you both tremble with ravenous lust as you looked into each other's eyes, not really knowing if you wanted him to let you go or hold you forever.

Growling quietly, Bateman continued to move along your longing body, forcing you to hook your hip around his loin, so you could grind against his hard groin. “Feeling good, darling?”

'No, not good...no!'

“Yes-s! Mmm-mh…Daddy… ahh!” Oh God, that was the end. 

"Baby," he murmured in your ear, thrusting his firm thighs into yours and shamelessly groping your bottom. "Daddy doesn't like to see his sweet Cupcake upset."

"Maybe...n-next time Daddy will think more before he talks." You stammered from the beat of your heart. 

“Do ya want me to bite this little sharp tongue?” panting, Patrick punctuated his words with rough smacks on your butt, which could be surely heard outside the dressing room. “I’ll teach you how to behave.”

Smoothly, Bateman pulled down the top of your dress, letting your breasts to bounce out from it, and the next second his greedy mouth was already sucking on your taut nipple. 

"Mmm…Gosh." You arched your back as the last vestiges of your self-control seemed to disappear along with your ability to resist this man.

Switching between your engorged peaks, Patrick didn’t stop rubbing against your mound not even for a moment, your throbbing pussy was about to explode at any second. Thirsty, he tugged on your tip with a squelch, enjoying each little whine you made, but he still needed more.

“Turn around,” he urged briefly, licking his lips in hunger as he watched you bent over in front of him. “Oh-fuck, I can smell your sweet arousal… mmm,” snuggling into you, Bateman left a wet hickey on the back of your neck before he started to move down, peppering your exposed skin with hot sloppy kisses. “C’mon, Cupcake, spread your legs for me.”

As if hypnotized, you obeyed and before you even noticed, his long fingers were teasing your sensitive clit trough your so-fucking-wet panties. Clinging to the wall, you were about to moan when you sensed his big palm on your chin, his hot breathing was mercilessly burning the delicate skin of your throat while his rock-hard bulge was still pressed against your ass.

“Aa-aww, Daddy….mhm.” You muffled against your own hand before turning around to give him your most innocent look–he read it almost right away.

“So, you need my help?” bastard! – you almost said it out loud, but Bateman was faster as he slid his thumb into your mouth, and you started to suck it like medicine you couldn’t live without. “Ahh-look at ya… Such a little slutty girl, can’t function without Daddy’s finger inside her dirty mouth…”

Twitching under his massive weight, you could only think of his skilful digits playing with your pussy better than you ever wished for, damn you were already so close but it seemed like Partick's endless craving spurred him on to tear you apart completely.

With no words, Bateman knelt behind your back to pull up the hem of your dress, and soon you had to compress your lips so tightly, as loud nasty sounds were about to erupt from your fiery chest when he finally moved your underwear to the side and his plump lips covered your feverish cunt. 

“Oh-mmmy God,” tensed like a string, you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to laugh, or all these things together from how his masterful tongue was pushing you over the edge. “Mmm-Patrick-” you suppressed another moan when he bit one of your buttocks before spreading them wide open to push two fingers inside your blushing pussy. “A-aah-Daddy, I’m so close… p-please!”

Patrick only purred something incoherently in response, as he continued to lick your engorged folds and pumping your tight hole with his experienced digits. His persistent ministrations made you totally lose your mind, and now you didn’t understand were you begging him to stop or to NEVER stop. 

When your legs shook in his grip, you heard his raspy snarl: “Not yet, Cupcake…Not yet!”

'And he just stopped, holy hell.'

Your miserable sobbing bounced against the walls of the dressing room as the coil in your lower belly was yearning for its release, it was literally itching so hard you were ready to scratch the wall with your nails if it could help you a bit.

“(Y/N), you can’t even imagine how much I want to leave you just like that,” Bateman hissed, and then you heard the unzipping sound which caused your knees to buckle. "But I want to get all your stupid thoughts about acting like a brat… out of your head!"

Abruptly, Patrick put your legs together and the next second you felt his leaking tip between your legs, brushing against your soaked folds and making your squirm from ecstasy. 

'This man have no barriers, he can reduce me to pieces so easily, like no one else, and I am sure he likes it.'

A small drops of sweat were running down his forehead as he watched his beefy cock slipping back and forth with a sleek sound; your overstimulated pussy was literally on fire.

“P-please…” You whimpered, bending ever lower to give him a better access to your spasming cunt. 

“If you want to cum, you have to move, slut.” Groaning, Bateman stood still with his hands wrapped tightly around your hips. Mesmerised, he watched you grinding on his huge dick as you desperately chased your release. At that moment, your languid, heavy breathing was all that mattered to him.

Shivering erratically, you almost crested your high when Patrick harshly grasped your throat and pressed you against the wall, possessively he began to smack his cock against your clit, each slap he made was taking your breath away.

“Tell me, Cupcake…” he grunted against your neck, brushing his swollen tip along your throbbing nub barely sensible. “Who do you belong to?”

“You…Only y-you...”

Bateman squeezed your neck with blatant dominance and demanded in a low voice, "Uh, not quite convincing…try again."

“Aa-aww! I… I belong to you…Daddy!” You cried out through your pressed palm when he sped up the tempo, slapping your pussy with nasty wet sounds.

With a devilish smirk on his face, Patrick had to hold you still as you cummed so hard, gushing on his dick and fidgeting around the wall. Multiple waves of pleasure were washing over you like a waterfall, leaving you completely exhausted, you didn’t even have any power to moan. 

And soon, you became limp in his powerful arms, allowing him peacefully patting your head as he praised you. “You can be a good girl when you really want to,” Bateman kissed your temple, fixing his pants. “But still, you could just let me help you with this fucking dress.”

“You can help me now…” You replied, hungrily catching the air.

Smugly, Patrick eventually undid the clasp on your dress, not missing the moment to leave a red mark on your shoulder blade as he sucked on your soft skin. “Speaking about dresses. Since my favourite one didn’t fit, you can choose whatever you want…I don’t really care.”

You sighed, smiling ironically to yourself. “Great!”

Bateman didn’t stop smirking even for a second, he was so pleased with himself that he didn’t notice your sarcastic intonation, he just ignored it, as usual. “Come out when you are ready, I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

“What for? I can pay for this myself.”

His cheesy titter unpleasantly cut your ear. “I don't want you to starve, babe,” you cast an angry glance at him, but he only stroked your cheek before adding: “You only need to be an obedient girl, and I'll give you as many gifts as you want.”

“But I didn’t ask...”

A sudden ring of his mobile phone got his attention, so he hushed you with a finger before quickly going out from the dressing room, leaving you alone with your inflaming rage.

Snorting tiredly, you mentally screwed him a million times in a row, changed your clothes and tried not to even think about eavesdropping on his conversation with whoever it was. As you left the dressing room, you heard the echo of his voice from nearby.

“Jesus, Evelyn! I’ve told you already, I can’t take the time off work.”

At that moment, you could swear your legs weren't listening as they led you straight to the source of the sound. With your heart beating, you halted near the dressing room when his voice suddenly fell silent, and the next second the curtain was carelessly pulled aside so that your frightened eyes met his furious ones.

'Oops!'

Annoyed, Patrick stared at you with his hands crossed on his chest. It was too late to run now, so you stood still and heard him saying:

"Are you lost?" With a cocky grin, he picked up his briefcase and stepped closer to you.

"No...I mean, yes. Probably," your cheeks burned from the inside as the strong feeling of embarrassment hit you like a truck. "I was just looking for you and..."

"Aha," he crooned before towering over you, grabbing you possessively by the waist and leaning down to whisper in your ear: "Do you know the proverb 'curiosity killed the cat'?"

"I haven't heard it since I was a kid," you confessed, swallowing hard as you watched him taking the dresses from your hands, the mysterious grin never leaving his face. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to eavesdrop."

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Haughtily, Patrick winked at you, and that was really confusing because his unpredictable mood changes were the most difficult puzzle you had ever known.

“You don’t even want to see which dress I chose?”

"Not really, I'll see it tomorrow anyway," his voice sounded more stern now. "Unless you change your mind about going with me.”

He cast a challenging glance at you, but before you had a chance to reply, Bateman walked past you and gestured for you to follow. Slightly disappointed, you went after him and soon you made it to the hall where all this shit started.

"So, did the young lady find something to her taste?" The stylist asked as soon as he saw you coming. 

"Yep," Patrick let him pick up the dresses and put them on the big table next to the beautiful leather couch on which Bateman kept looking in disgust and you didn't even know why. "(Y/n), c'mon, point with your finger to which dress you like?"

The way he cooed to you was absolutely stunning. Sometimes it seemed like he could read you like an open book, and that only made you feel insecure.

"I think this one." You replied with a shy smile.

"Nice, very nice!" Mr. Graham exclaimed before calling for an assistant to pack your dress. "That will be 2800 dollars, sir."

Satisfied, Bateman hummed to himself and pulled out his wallet. "Do you take credit cards?"

"Of course!"

All the while, you were pretty shocked by the price for just a piece of fabric. Frowning, you didn’t even realize you were saying it out loud. "2800 dollars, for this?"

Everyone, including Patrick, turned to look at you; the stylist was seriously confused and he just mumbled: "Excuse me?"

"Huh, don't worry," Bateman chuckled and handed him his platinum AmEx credit card. "She just can't believe I finally bought her a dress of your brand. Am I right, dear?"

When Patrick glanced at you, you felt a cold breeze run through your body—he must have been really angry. "Mmm, yes! I have been dreaming about this for so long."

Even though you were not an actress, your words sounded more than natural. Both men smiled at each other and proceeded with the payment procedure.

All the way back to his apartment you both remained almost silent. Patrick continued to listen to the rock track he had paused on before going into the store, looking at you from time to time when you didn't see him, his hand fidgeting with the hem of your new dress that was lying on your knees. Yet, you couldn't believe he'd just bought you a dress that cost more than your monthly rent. You hated to owe someone, but now you felt like you did, and it was killing you from the inside...because you didn't ask him to get you that dress, you didn't ask him for anything, and still he was trying to push you into the world of luxury where you would be a stranger forever.

'Bullshit.'

"(Y/n), what's on your mind?" His sudden question caught you off guard, and you almost bit your tongue. Why did he even ask, when it seemed he could read your mind?

Fidgeting in your seat, you turned away from the window and gazed into his brown eyes, now filled with an unrivaled enigma. "Just thinking about how to survive all the challenges you have set for me."

You heard him laugh softly, and before you could continue, he hugged your shoulders and snuggled into your small frame, the heat his body was radiating melted the cold shell you had been building up since the moment he decided to 'help' you in the dressing room.

“Challenges?” Patrick rejoined, nuzzling against your neck as he pulled your collar down a bit. 

“Yes, Patrick,” you were trying to hold yourself as much as you could, not giving him more weaknesses to play around. “You know how much I hate all these fancy things which are made only for rich people.”

Bateman only purred something incoherently against your skin, tickling it a bit. “Cupcake…I think you need to relax.”

“Relax?”

“Yes, baby,” he tugged you closer, his nose was nearly rubbing against yours. 'Goddamn!' “Relax and take it easy.”

"Stop, stop, stop..." you pushed him away a bit, forcing his headphones to slide down his head completely. "You've reminded me almost every day...that I'm not from 'your world', that I'm just a mortal who can't afford to buy fucking clothes that cost a fortune...and now you're telling me to just relax?"

Patrick huffed and rolled his eyes. “(Y/n)...don’t even start this conversation again.”

“You’re such an…”

Despite the fact that the partition in the cab was closed, it seemed as if the taxi driver heard your loud voice, and the next moment he opened it to ask you if everything was all right.

When you said that everything was fine, he started to drive again and you clenched your palms into fists, feeling the embarrassment and anger fighting in your mind.

"You're ashamed of me, aren't you?" You wondered without looking at him. 

The way Bateman exhaled was not a good sign. "When you make such scenes—yes, I am." 

Sighing, you pressed a hand to your forehead. Damn, he was affecting you so badly and you hated yourself for it, for being so weak next to him, so vulnerable...you were literally losing yourself.

His apartment looked perfect as always, so clean, so posh, but there was something strange this time as you walked across the living room and saw a large bouquet of white roses on his kitchen island.

"Mmm, such beautiful flowers!" You approached them to inhale their scent.

"Yeah," he stated from behind, placing your dress on the back of his white couch. "I bought them for you."

Stunned, you broke away from them as if you were pricked. “For me?”

"I'm not going to repeat it," Patrick blurted out, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass and a bottle of super expensive whiskey. "Besides, I don't think it makes any sense now."

'Excellent.' 

Without asking, Bateman set a glass on the bar counter in front of you as you took a seat near it. Still frowning with irritation, he poured some red wine for you, and when you were about to thank him, he just strolled away. The situation was rather unconventional, to say the least, and you didn't really know what to do, maybe just leave?

"Patrick, I think we both need to cool off a bit...right?" you sipped at your wine, waiting for his answer, but he continued to ignore you. "I'm going to finish my drink and probably go home."

"Whatever." Was all he said, standing with his back to your face, clearly thinking about something. 

Upset, you stifled a sad gasp and took the glass before getting up. When you reached his white couch to have a look at your dress for distraction, you suddenly heard his challenging voice:

"You want to know who Evilyn is, don't you?"

Paralyzed, you almost choke on your wine. After coughing a little, you turned to see him standing near the coffee table with his hands in his pockets. This was getting serious.

"I don't understand, why do you ask?"

Patrick chuckled loudly and shook his head in disbelief. "Stop acting like a fool, Cupcake. I know you want this, I can even feel it," his face grimaced a bit dangerously while his eyes were getting darker by the second. "You've wanted it since we left the boutique, that's why you started acting like a bitch."

Trembling with burning rage, you squeezed the glass, almost breaking it. "I'm not in the mood for scenes, you know," you countered, not even noticing that you took a few confident steps toward him. "When I leave, you can bring Evelyn, Courtney, Meredith, whoever… and confront them for as long as you want!"

"Or maybe we can all have some fun together, huh?" he drawled the last words, enjoying the sight of your angry expression. "There's plenty of me to go around."

Scowling, you wanted to spit in his face, or slap him, or both. But instead, you just smiled and that was a little unexpected for him. "You're sick, Patrick. And I feel really sorry for you."

After saying that, you turned away from him to pick up the dress – you wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, so you even forgot about the glass in your hand.

"Of the two of us, you are the one who really needs some grief," his voice hurt you like a slow-acting poison, it was excruciating. Before Bateman returned to the kitchen, he added, "Evelyn is my fiancée, and has been all along. What an unpleasant surprise?"

A loud sound of broken glass echoed through the living room as soon as you heard his last words. It was a real miracle that the wine didn't splash onto the luxurious fabric of his white couch, but you didn't really care at that moment, with your heart beating so crazy in your chest. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and stood still, not hearing Patrick's footsteps behind you.  

'Damn, that glass must have cost a fortune.'

"Cupcake..."

"I know!" You cut him off, raising your trembling hands in the air. "I'll return the money...just tell me how much it costs?"

'Don't cry. Please, don't cry!' But you did, and when you felt his warm hand wrap around your forearm, you tried to push him away, yelping:

"Give me...give me something to clean the floor!"

"(Y/n), calm down! You're bleeding." 

"What?" you gasped, opening your eyes wide before looking down at your feet to see blood running down your ankle as a sharp piece of glass sank into your soft skin. Only then did you realize you were injured, a sharp pain hitting your brain like a lightning strike. “Oh, God…I thought it was w-wine…” You stammered as that was the end point for your nervous system.

With no more waiting, Bateman carefully took you in his arms to lift you up. Sobbing, you let him carry you into the bathroom and sat on the edge of his beautiful black tub. Gently, he removed your shoes and stretched out your bruised leg to assess the damage.

"Is it that bad?" You asked him in a shaky voice, trying not to look down at the wound. 

"No, but it would be better if you stopped flinching." He insisted, releasing your leg and going to the sink to get antiseptic, tweezers, bandages and cotton pads. 

As Patrick knelt before you, holding a pair of tweezers, time seemed to freeze for you, but then you screamed from the itching pain as he carefully pulled the shard of glass from your ankle.

"Mmmh," you mumbled through your palm when he pressed a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic. "Shit…I am so clumsy and reckless..."

"You are," Bateman murmured as he wrapped a bandage around your leg. Every move he made was very gentle and accurate. "But still, you are mine."

"No, I'm not," you struggled to free yourself from his grip, but his hands held your leg very tightly. "We both know that's not true..."

Shivering, you peered down at him as he remained on his knee beside you. Almost immediately, his hazel eyes locked with yours, mesmerizing as always. "Why is it always so difficult with you?"

“Ask yourself.”

The moment you attempted to get up, you almost fell on the floor, but Patrick caught you in his arms at the last second.

"Patrick, let me go..." you pushed him into his chest to get some distance, but he didn't even move. "I will leave and forget everything that happened between us. Just like you wanted!"

"I never said I wanted to!" he growled, holding you closer so you could almost feel his fast heartbeat. "Why can't you just be a good girl and accept what I give you?"

"Oh, you've already given me enough, believe me!"

Annoyed, Bateman just shook his head before pressing a finger to your lips, silencing you and taking your breath away. 

'No, no, no. Not again'

You swallowed hard as you felt his thumb slide up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. 

'Stop.'

"Cupcake."

'His voice, his scent, his brawny body.' 

"Look at me," Patrick whispered sweetly, and you felt yourself going limp in his strong arms, so you obeyed and let him kiss your temple. "You're driving me crazy and I hate it...because I'm so fucking obsessed with you!"

One sharp breath and his lips were on yours, forcing your hands to claw at his jacket, but Bateman only pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as his wet tongue played with yours. Panting against his mouth, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his soft hair, making it look so messy, but Patrick didn't care. Slowly, he lifted you up a bit to set you down on the sink opposite his bathtub, peppering your neck with little pecks.

"Daddy."

Just one simple word could turn this man into a savage beast, you knew it, but you couldn't stop yourself as your inner nature yearned for him and it felt like you were meant for each other, two broken souls finally found each other.

"Cupcake." He kissed your lips briefly before moving down to your cleavage and unbuttoning your shirt, his hot breath tickling your bare skin.

Everything about him was so intoxicating that your clouded mind refused to function at all and now you couldn't hear your inner voice begging you to stop. 

Quivering, you arched your back a little to give him better access, and immediately you heard him growl against your collarbone as he finally undid your shirt. Patrick didn't even bother to remove your bra - he just pulled it down, revealing your taut nipples; he licked his lips at the sight of them and then his greedy mouth was already devouring one of them.

"A-awwww," you mewled, hugging his shoulders as you literally melted under his touch. "Mmm, please!"

"Please what?" He looked at you, twisting your hard peak between his skilled fingers. 

"I..." you hiccupped from the way Bateman spread your legs as he nestled into you with pure possession, groping your hip and licking your neck. "I... don't know... Gosh!"

This was pure madness, what was consuming your mind, with every kiss he made, breaking all your barriers, the more you tried to resist it, the more it hit you back. Panting, you threw your head back and felt your eyes begin to water again as his strong hands caressed your trembling little body. Never in your life had you felt so lost. Never.

"Relax, sweetheart," Patrick mused into your ear as he slid his palm between your legs. And of course you were so shamelessly wet that you could flood his floor. "I got you."

"I can't, a-aah..." You sighed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Yes, you can," Bateman planted another sloppy kiss on your neck before grabbing your hand to press it against the hard bulge in his pants. "I couldn't stop thinking..." he paused, drinking in your stifled moans as he gave your clit a few slight rubs. "Do you think about me, Cupcake? I know you do..."

"Mm-mhh," your hands roamed desperately down his broad back, fumbling with the smooth fabric of his suit. "And I...ahh-I know you don't think about me..."

A loud whimper fell from your lips as he shoved two fingers into your dripping pussy, almost causing you to bump your head against the mirror behind, but he prevented it by wrapping his hand around your neck.

"You're mistaken," his low groan echoed against the walls of his bathroom, sending shivers down your spine and coaxing your inner muscles to spasm around his fingers as they mercilessly rammed in and out of your throbbing cunt. "Because you know nothing about me," Patrick curled his fingers to stimulate your most sensitive spot, gritting his teeth as his aching cock was about to explode with ravenous desire. "Now be a sweet girl like you always are and..."

"Owwww!" you screamed in sharp pain as he accidentally pushed on your wound. “It hurts!”

"Fuck, I forgot...damn it!" He cursed and removed his hand from your leg.

Seizing the moment of his confusion, you slipped out of his embrace and nearly ran for the door, and thank God it was open, because when you heard his almost furious groan, your heart skipped a beat:

"Come back!" 

"No, it can't be like this," you leaned against the door, holding out a hand defensively. "Not after what you said..."

Trembling, you watched him breathe heavily through his red nostrils, his wild gaze seeming to burn you alive as his self-control was about to snap. Scared, you weren't sure what to expect from him next, so you decided to leave this place right now, while it was still not too late.

Quickly, you walked into his living room and grabbed the damn dress, trying not to think about the broken glass and spilled wine. To be fair, you thought Patrick was going to chase you or threaten you with punishment, but none of that happened as he stayed in his bathroom. It was suspicious, but you would think about it later. 

As you were about to leave, you walked past the open door to the bathroom and told yourself to just go and not look back. But when you reached the front door, you froze and sobbed - your heart sinking while your mind was waving a red flag.

'Just leave, please!'

Huffing, you turned and walked back to the open door. The scene you saw was not what you expected, it simply broke your heart - Bateman was standing still by the sink, leaning on his hands with his head bowed.

"Patrick."

"You're still here?" He asked without looking at you.

"I'll go with you tomorrow...but I'm not doing it for you," your voice wavered, but you didn't allow yourself to sound weak. "I just wanted to make that clear."

And then you left him alone in his super luxurious apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. No matter how hard you tried to hold back your tears, they kept slipping down your cheeks. Even when you were in the cab on your way home, your soul was still aching because it seemed like the wounds he made couldn't be healed.

When the night came, there were only a few windows with lights on, and Patrick's bedroom window was one of them.

Irritated, Bateman lay on his bed while a blonde girl sucked him off, bobbing her head up and down at a fast tempo. There was no denying that she was trying her best to give him as much pleasure as possible, but he felt nothing, literally no emotions – only the dark void inside his mind.

"(Y/n), you're doing everything wrong...not the way I like it!" Patrick grumbled, pulling on the girl's hair.

"Who?" She asked confusedly, looking up at him. "My name is Meredith, in case you forgot, honey."

Bateman just laughed and carelessly pushed her down, forcing her to continue. "Shut your fucking mouth and suck my dick. You stupid whore!"

Meredith was making too many noises which annoyed him so much as he was trying to concentrate on dreaming of you—your beautiful face, your innocent sparkling eyes. Although this girl was very pretty, definitely 'his type', there was not a single trace of you and he thought he would never reach his high.

"Mmhm, Patrick…Maybe you will fuck me already?" 

"Maybe," he sighed, watching her laying on her back with undisguised excitement, but then he frowned in a weird disgust. "No, get on your knees. I can't see your fucking face."

"W-what? What's wrong with you today?Ah!"

Angrily, he slapped her hip and rolled her onto her stomach. Without any preparation, he bottomed out, closing his eyes and thinking about the way you twitched every time he thrust inside you. Speeding up his pounding, Patrick finally felt his orgasm building up inside his body when she suddenly moaned. "Oh, yeah! Daddy, it feels so good!" 

That was not even rage, it was something beyond that. Brutally, he squeezed her neck, almost choking her, and growled near her ear as he leaned down. "Never call me that! Understand?" he yanked her against the bed, still clutching her throat, and only when she was on the verge of asphyxia he released her, fucking her harder and gritting his teeth. "Fucking bitch, you should thank me for not killing you."

Camera flashes never stopped clicking in front of your eyes, you almost thought it was impossible to hide from them. They were literally everywhere, as were the countless supermodels and rich yuppies who looked at them without shame, their hungry eyes ready to eat them alive.

"Hey, are you trying to get lost or what?" 

With a soft gasp, you stopped and turned around to see Patrick's irritated face as you walked through the huge hall, every part of which gave you strong vibes of luxury lifestyle.

"I don't think you'd notice my absence anyway," you replied, walking straight until his arm wrapped around your waist, causing your lungs to spasm from the sudden lack of oxygen. "Patrick?"

"Listen to me," he pulled you closer and leaned down to your ear, whispering in a serious tone. "There are a lot of bad people here who came for more than just fashion."

"Even worse than you?"

He scowled, but continued. "Much worse, believe me."

"Don't pretend you care," you tried to walk away, brushing his hand aside, but he tightened his grip. "Get off me!"

"You're too naive and innocent. I don't want you getting into trouble while you're here with me." Tensed, Bateman stroked your back to calm you down a bit as he noticed the people around starting to stare at you.

"That's very sweet, but I don't need your 'protection'...I'm pretty sure you came here for the same reason as all the other yuppies." 

"I didn't ask for your opinion, okay? Let's get to our seats," he said possessively, easily cradling you in his arms, covering your small frame like a cocoon. "We have the best seats, by the way. Right next to the runaway."

"Amazing," you murmured as he led you through the endless crowds. "Not a single model will escape your gaze."

"That's right."

Frowning, you were about to slip out of his grip when suddenly someone ran into you, stomping painfully on your feet.

"Ouch!" Your loud whimper caused Patrick to turn in your direction, but then he froze as he looked over your shoulder at the blonde girl who was immediately apologizing. 

"Oh God, I'm so sorry..." the familiar voice hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I can be so clumsy," she touched her forehead before locking her lost gaze with Bateman's. "Patrick?"

That was Courtney. There was no doubt it was her, especially when she smiled at him so brightly it could easily outshine the Sun. 

"Hello, Courtney. It's so good to see you!" Patrick crooned gallantly, his arms finally releasing your shivering body. 

But even if a few minutes ago you wanted him to take his hands off you, now you were feeling a bit upset that he actually did.

"How could I miss this?" She asked flirtatiously, completely ignoring your presence. "Where are your seats?"

"Yeah, where are they?" You blurted out abruptly, making them both almost jump. "I just don't want to interrupt your sweet conversation and..."

You almost hissed from the sudden pain as you felt his firm hand on your ass, pinching your buttocks. His face didn't change, though, as he continued to grin haughtily, his eyes never ceasing to roam over Courtney's pretty body. With slight irritation, Bateman approached your neck and whispered in your ear how to get to your seats, then nibbled briefly on your earlobe as a sign of his displeasure, but you didn't pay any attention.

"Thank you, Daddy." You uttered the last word in the most disgustingly sweet way you could and strolled away without looking back. No matter how much you wanted to, you just couldn't.

Patrick wasn't lying—the seats were really so close to the runway that you could probably see every little detail on the models' clothes.

After about fifteen minutes, it was getting dark, which meant that the show was about to start. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but it just didn't work, your butt was still sore from Bateman's pinch.

As soon as you remembered him, you heard his voice as he moved across the seats to reach his place. Patrick grinned at you smugly as he sat down next to you, crossing one leg over the other and fixing his hair.

"You must be very pleased with yourself, Cupcake?" He asked mockingly.

You scowled and pretended not to understand what he was saying as the music turned up really loud: "I can't hear you."

Patrick just chuckled softly, put a hand on the back of your seat and moved closer. "I said you look so beautiful today."

'God, what a jerk.' 

"Can't say the same about you."

"Uh, such an angry little kitten," Bateman laughed, looking at you from under his beautiful lashes. "I don't think I'll survive this."

"You really think I care?"

And then the show started, unfortunately not allowing you to finish what you were about to say. As expected, the models looked gorgeous and the clothes they were wearing were absolutely amazing—you had to admit that. Although you tried your best not to notice the way Patrick was staring at the girls on the runway, you had to claw at your skin when one of them winked at him without any shame.

"This is the grace I've been telling you about," he bowed closer to you to make sure you heard what he was saying. "The perfect example of feminine beauty."

You smiled ironically and replied without looking at him: "The real beauty begins when the boys come out."

Your sudden statement elicited a muffled groan from his chest, but Bateman simply nodded and turned away from you. From that moment on, he was almost silent, and it was a little strange, but as the male models appeared on the runway, you stopped analyzing and just enjoyed the handsome men walking back and forth in front of you. Everything was fine until one of the models found your eyes in the crowd and smiled at you. And of course Patrick wouldn't miss it.

"Do you like him?"

"W-who?" You stammered, feeling his warm hand on your knee.

"The model who just walked by," he murmured, stroking your exposed skin under the hem of your dress, sensing the way you tensed under his touch. "Maybe you should go talk to him after the show."

Shit, you couldn't believe he meant it or... you just didn't want to believe it?

"I'm not like you, Patrick," you chastised, feeling so damned angry as his words cut painfully through your heart. "You sometimes forget that not everyone is like that..."

"Like what?" Bateman scoffed with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what I mean." You added with a teasing smile and turned away from him, but he immediately grabbed your face, forcing you to squeal from the unexpectedness. 

"No, I don't," he scoffed, pushing on your jaw. "C'mon, Cupcake, tell me."

The surrounding darkness came in handy in this situation, not to mention the fact that almost everyone was focused on watching the show, so Bateman felt pretty confident knowing that no one would notice your little fight here.

"Get off!" You hissed, wrapping both your hands around his wrist in an attempt to pry it away.

"Awww, look at those little hands," he pulled you closer, so you could feel his hot breath on your trembling lips. "You are so small and yet so brave. It fascinates me, I won't lie."

You froze for a second as his words caught you off guard. Blinking several times, you didn't even notice that his large palm was now gently stroking your chin, moving up to your cheek and ending this little intimate moment by pressing lightly on your half-opened lips.

Actually, that was the worst thing he could do at that moment, because his illusory softness and tenderness hurts like hell. It was like a sweet candy with a sharp blade inside.

Just as you realized how close your faces were, you tried to pull away, but Patrick's grip was too tight. Fixing you in place by your chin, he captured your mouth with his, hungrily relishing your taste, your shiver, your muffled gasp against his lips. Bateman tested your limits so masterfully that every little move he made was as precise as his side profile. Slowly he wrapped one hand around your neck while another was already resting on your waist, the kiss you shared was something more than just physical contact, and you let yourself sink into the flow of emotions, closing your eyes and letting him kiss deeper. You almost moaned, but the surrounding music of the show drowned out any obscene sounds that tried to escape your swollen lips.

His strong, warm tongue danced along yours, not even giving you a chance to take the lead, so you just opened your mouth wider and let your noses brush together, forcing your hearts to beat in a crazy rhythm.

God, this man was the darkest curse... the most delightful blessing.

After a few seconds, the people around started applauding so loudly that you had to open your eyes just as the lights came on. The strange delusion that was like a white veil behind your vision began to fade, and only then did you and Patrick realize that you were both staring at each other, your mouths still pressed together.

A second, two seconds.

It seemed as if you were both waiting to see who would break away first, and as soon as you heard someone coughing behind your back, you pulled away from Patrick's strong arms, but you knew that you only managed to break free because he let you.

"Patrick! I thought I wouldn't see you here!" A familiar female voice echoed from above and you didn't even bother to turn around to see another bimbo Bateman was hanging out with.

Shit, what if she saw what you were doing?

At first you thought Patrick would pretend he didn't know you or something, but instead Bateman smiled smugly and put his hand on the back of your chair.

Annoyed, but still as majestic as a lion, he looked up at the blonde and said quickly: "Hi, Meredith."

Her face turned into a sad grimace, though she pretended that Bateman's indifference didn't upset her. Obviously, Meredith was outraged and needed someone to take her anger out on. 

With a haughty grin, she scoffed and almost stepped on your foot. "I don't understand, how can a man like you go out with someone like... her?"

Damn, that was such an obvious insult that it didn't even trigger a single emotion, you just gave her a deadly stare when you finally met her little eyes and you could swear that you saw a trace of fear in them.

"I asked myself the same question," you muttered suddenly, getting up from your seat and looking at Patrick, whose perfect eyebrows now frowned, especially when he understood what you were you doing—he squeezed the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "Have a nice evening." 

With those words, you quickly walked away, and you were so damn glad that Bateman decided not to follow you, because with every step you took, your eyes got more and more watery. 

"How did she even get here? Ugly people like that should stay at home to avoid traumatizing anyone." Meredith hissed as she watched your little figure moving away from them. "Who is she?" 

Patrick chuckled, then did his classic move of parrying the question with his natural charm. "Oh, you're so mean," he muttered as he watched the blonde take your seat next to him. Playfully, Bateman pinched her nose and they both started to giggle, no matter how disgusted he felt himself right now, he wouldn't admit that your sudden leaving made him sad. "Such an angry little bitch."

You couldn't remember how you found your way to the ladies' room, but as soon as you stepped up to the sink and looked in the mirror, you scowled and clenched your fists from the sharp pain in your chest. 

"I... I hate you so much!" You hissed in a trembling voice, not really knowing who you were addressing, yourself or Patrick, who was probably already taking the blonde bimbo to his place.

His womanizer nature was not a secret, so why did it hurt so fucking much? 

Depressed by your weakness towards this man, you wanted to smash the mirror to stop seeing this sad face covered with tears, but you heard someone coming, so you just froze in place with your trembling hands in the air. A model walked past you and accidentally bumped your shoulder.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She squealed and opened the fauster to wash her hands.

Even though you understood that she didn't do it on purpose, it made you so mad that you almost ran out of the bathroom, loudly slamming the door behind you.

The moment you realized that you couldn't remember how to get out of here made all your insides cramp like a spring, and you thought you were just going to fall to the floor from a sudden fear of being lost. 'Fuck, not now, not now!'

Quivering, you looked around, searching for... Patrick? But instead of him, you could only see an endless number of beautiful models strolling here and there. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to calm yourself, but when that didn't help, your legs seemed to give way, and you slipped against the wall until you rested on the floor. This panic attack was nothing compared to the ones you had before, your heart pounding painfully against your chest as if trying to burst through it. Things got worse when you felt the lack of oxygen as you literally suffocated with panic and your body burned from the inside out.

The group of models stood by and noticed your small, shivering form, rocking back and forth with your hands wrapped around your head. 

"Hey! Are you okay?" One of them approached you and crouched down beside you, trying to help you up, but you refused.

"Don't touch her, Lizzy! Maybe she's on drugs. Let's go already!"

"No, wait... she clearly needs help," the models looked at each other, one of them trying to pat your shoulder to calm you down, while her friend tapped her foot annoyingly. "Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you?"

"N-no," you finally mumbled, opening your eyes to see that not only two, but many of these girls were already gathered around you. "I— I'm fine, I'm sorry... I'm just..." 

Lost.

Jesus, that was so embarrassing that the words just stuck in your throat like a lump, and now you felt like a little girl who got lost in the big mall when she decided to run away from her parents. 

"What's going on here?" That voice made you almost faint. "Get away!"

A bit roughly, Bateman pulled the model away from you and leaned down to your shivering form.

"HEY! We were just trying to help!"

"Go away! All of you!" He turned and barked at all the girls watching the scene. "Get the hell out of here, there is nothing to look at!"

Your head was spinning, at first you couldn't even believe it was him, hiding you from everyone with his broad, tall figure, as if he was trying to… protect you?

"Cupcake? Cupcake, look at me," his worried cooing made you submit, making you want to believe that he was really concerned about you. Gently, he cupped your face and stroked your slightly disheveled hair. "What happened?"

At first, you didn't say anything — you were paralyzed, mesmerized by his brown eyes, which were gliding desperately up and down your body, checking every little part of it. 

"Who did this to you?"

'You did.'

But he would never know.

"You came," you replied briefly. "Why?" 

Patrick frowned at your answer and let out a tired sigh. "I've been looking for you since you left, because this place is huge, and I didn't want you to get into trouble, but," he paused and brushed your tears away concisely. "But it looks like I'm too late. God, you're so reckless," he shook his head and stood up.

As soon as Patrick did that, something clicked in your head, and you didn't even notice that you were already on your feet as you snuggled up to him and buried yourself in his arms with a deadly grip.

"Please, don't go!" You begged in a trembling voice, hugging him tighter. "Don't leave me!"

Shocked, Bateman didn't know how to react, his arms dropped motionlessly, but then he carefully placed them on your back, drawing invisible lines along your spine. 

"I have to get our coats. You came here in your coat, did you forget?"

Blinking several times as you looked into his eyes, you replied softly: "Yeah… I did."

Patrick couldn't help but smile adorably. "Wait for me here, (y/n). I'll lead you outside, you'll feel better there." He explained and distanced himself from you. "Don't go anywhere! Got it?"

You nodded, and only then did he walk away. Without even looking back, he disappeared into the crowd.

Bateman was right, once you left the building your condition improved, and you could finally breathe in the fresh air, filling your lungs with the oxygen they so desperately needed. A cool wind blew into your face, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the emotions you were experiencing right now — the fact that Patrick had come for you, that he was looking for you, left you with no choice but to stifle a loud scream that you wanted so bad to let out.

Bateman remained silent, standing a short distance behind you, puffing on his cigar and watching the smoke rise from it.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" His question came out of nowhere.

You shrugged, but didn't turn around. "Yeah... it happens sometimes, especially in crowded places."

Bateman didn't say anything, but you could feel the tension between the two of you. Without a rush, he moved closer to you, watching you hug yourself — the difference in your sizes made him gulp, but he didn't dare touch you. Not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me then?" He whispered above your ear before smoking his cigar.

"Because it doesn't matter."

"It does."

"No!" You blurted out and turned round to face him. "It… doesn't."

The way he looked at you was enough to make you hold your breath and take a small step back, but the next moment you were already trapped in his sturdy arms, the sharp smell of snuff filling the air around you as he blew off several rings of smoke.

"You're not going anywhere now." His voice lowered, and you closed your eyes from the astonishing sensation of being caught in his strong hands, feeling his hot breath on your face. 

"Patrick," you gasped and hugged him back, surprising him for a second. "Thank you for... for everything."

A loud cacophony of laughter and rumbling got your attention and you looked over his shoulder to see Meredith and her friends coming towards you. She seemed to spot you even faster than you spotted her, and now her eyes were bloodshot red.

"Can you," you stammered, feeling ashamed. "Can you kiss me?"

What the hell was going on inside your head?

Anyway, you didn't have time to reflect on this, because Patrick wasn't the type of person who needs to be asked twice. The moment his soft lips met yours, the ground under your feet seemed to disappear, so he had to hold you with both hands, not caring that his expensive cigar fell down. Even if you would blame yourself for that, all you could think about now was his strong hands sliding along your small form, outlining your curves as you let him do it, while he used his wet tongue to make you go limp in his embrace.

Sneakily, Patrick admired your beautiful face with his half-open eyes, probably not even realizing how much you meant to him, how deep you were rooted in his soul. But did he even have a soul in the first place?

When you broke the kiss, you didn't see Meredith or her friends anymore. Bateman noticed you were looking for something, so he turned to look at the direction of your gaze.

"Cupcake?" He was confused when he didn't see anyone. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Uh, yeah! I just thought I saw a familiar face," you lied, trying to act natural. "I... I should probably go home."

Patrick gave you a suspicious glance, still holding you in his arms. "Actually, I don't want to leave you alone after what happened."

"What do you mean?" you asked, a little disappointed. "I said I'm fine."

"Shhh," he pressed a finger to your lips, and you felt the smooth, cold leather of his glove. "I know you like to be bratty, but now isn't a good time. You really scared me."

Sighing, you dropped your head and covered his hand with both of yours. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't want you to see me like that."

To be honest, you didn't want anyone to see you like this because you hated looking weak in front of people. Especially in front of people like him, because it would automatically give him another trump card to play around with.

"Let me take you home." Bateman mumbled briefly, fixing your hair and then rubbing your neck to relax you.

"Aren't you afraid you'll have a heart attack coming to my place? It's not like your apartment in Manhattan."

He chuckled and pinched your cheek, leaving you confused and offended.

"Of course it's not," Patrick grinned and poked you in the nose. "I don't have any expectations."

You frowned and tried to push him back, but he only pressed you closer, nuzzling your neck and leaving a small hickey on it for which you were not ready — your muffled whimper made him sneer even louder.

"That's a pretty exhaustive answer," he didn't even allow you to say anything in return as he kissed you again, but this time much more passionately. "I'll get us a cab."

This man was like a hurricane that tossed everything around and no matter how many walls you built — he would break them down, one after the other, because nature couldn't be stopped. It seemed that you were completely disarmed against your own nature, because it was calling for him, it was pushing you into his possession, and you were already so tired of fighting these feelings.

There was something special about New York at night, when millions of lights were shining like diamonds, reflecting on the water of the Hudson River and taking your breath away with the feeling of being so small in such a huge city, where the numerous soaring skyscrapers were almost touching the sky.

Tiredly, you closed your eyes, sighed, and leaned on the armrest of the car door, watching the scenery change behind the window. Patrick listened to the music, as he always did, his hands stroking your knee from time to time, but you could hardly feel it, since you were completely overwhelmed by emotions, feelings and thoughts. It was hard to believe that even after all that had happened, you still let him take you home, knowing damn well that he wouldn't just stay in the cab when it stopped at your place. 

Just as you entered your apartment and turned on the lights, you heard his slightly nervous chuckle and little comment.

“Mmm, it's pretty clean here.”

His words almost made you choke. “Did you really think that my place would look like a dump just because I don't live in Manhattan?”

“I didn't mean that.” Bateman murmured behind you, following you carefully down the hall. “Where can I put my coat?”

“Why do you ask? I don't remember inviting you here,” You took off your coat and put it on the rack next to him. “Aren't you afraid your coat will stink  of poverty?”

Patrick couldn't help but chuckle in a husky voice. “You're funny, Cupcake.”

'And why did I trust this man at all? What was so special about him?'

You didn't say anything, only a thin smile ran over your tired face as you turned around and saw him putting his coat over yours. After that, you continued to walk to your small kitchen, and as soon as you reached the table next to the window, your eyes began to search for something.

“Did you lose something?” He asked, leaning against the wall and hiding his hands in his pockets.

“N-no,” you stammered, as if he had caught you doing something bad. God, he was embarrassing you in your own apartment! “Just … It's been a while since I've had guests.”

Patrick hummed something incoherently and crossed his arms over his broad chest, then moved lazily to the kitchen counter when something caught his eye while you were busy gathering all the stuff on the kitchen table — including some books and various papers from work.

With undisguised interest, Bateman picked up the medicine to take a closer look at its name. “Don't you know these things can cause addiction?”

“What?” You turned to see him examining your sedatives.

“How long have you been taking them?” He asked again, his perfect eyebrows knitted together now.

You sighed tiredly and walked over to him, holding out your hand. “Not too long. Now give it to me, please.”

“I can bring you much better medication than this, since it obviously doesn't work,” he stated in a stern voice, without looking at you. “Because the panic attacks are still kicking your pretty ass.”

His words made your jaw clench, but you didn't even try to snatch the medication from him, instead you just let out a soft groan of annoyance, crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“That's very kind of you, but I have to decline your offer.” You replied, watching him shake his head in irritation. “Besides, you can only get those pills with a doctor's prescription.”

Patrick just shrugged and put the pills back on the kitchen counter.

“That's not a problem,” he quickly straightened his red tie before stepping closer to you. “I have one of the best therapists in the city.”

“Uh-huh, and the pharmacy you go to is probably one of the best, too?”

He grinned. “Sure, I usually get my meds from the one on Broadway.”

“Good for you.”

You started to saunter away from him, but his hands caught you faster than you could react. The next thing you knew, Bateman was holding you tightly against his tall, broad frame, looking down at you with obvious concern.

“Cupcake,” he murmured in a sweet voice, tracing a finger along your cheek. “I just want to help.”

Damn, this man only had to touch you a little bit and you were already lost in him. 

“Patrick, you don't have to. I—” You didn't have a chance to finish your sentence because your lips were sealed by his. 

Completely defenseless and vulnerable — that was how you felt right now, and it seemed as if he could feel it as the kiss grew deeper and more intense with each passing moment. Cautiously, you rested your hands on his shoulders before sliding them down to the lapels of his suit, fumbling with the soft material and feeling the ground disappearing beneath your feet.

'It's already too much.'

Only when you were both breathless did Patrick decide to break the kiss, but his arms were still wrapped around your waist, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage. 

“You were involved in all this because of me," he paused and leaned down to you again, letting your noses rub against each other. This little physical contact made your heart flutter. “And you really made me worry.”

Bateman said it so quickly, as if he wasn't even thinking properly at that moment. Embarrassed, you shrugged a bit in his arms. No matter how hard you tried to believe this man, all you could think about now was whether you were trapped in his other manipulative, mind games.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast under your fingertips and the next second you pulled your hand away as if you got burned. “Anyway, it’s late already and you probably have some more interesting stuff to do.”

His soft chuckling was annoying but pleasant to hear. “You’re not quite hospitable, aren’t you?”

Eventually, he let you go and stepped aside, unbuttoning his jacket — that scene caused your pulse to race. 

“What are you doing?” “What does it look like?”

You crossed your arms and sighed. “Patrick, I really appreciate your help and… the show was really cool, but I doubt I would ever go back to that place again.” 'Damn it, did I actually say that?'

After Bateman removed his jacket, he carefully put it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tucked his sleeves. 

“You’re welcome,” he beamed with a cocky smile. “I thought you would offer me some tea, coffee or something?”

“I doubt I have anything good to your taste,” slowly, you turned away from him, as an unpleasant feeling of shame struck you right through your chest. “Mmm, I can only offer you mineral water but it’s not Apollinaris.”

“Oh, dear,” he crooned and suddenly hugged you from behind. “I didn’t expect you to have Apollinaris. Honestly.”

Gasping barely audibly, you covered his arms on your waist with your own arms and cocked your head to meet his brown eyes and for God’s sake, why did he always look so tempting, so captivating, so… magnetizing?

With a sharp breath, you managed to avoid another kiss he planned to pull you into, and it coaxed a low growl of disappointment to erupt from his half-opened lips which were so intended to collapse with yours. 

“Patrick,” you gulped when he nuzzled against your neck, leaving small wet marks along your sensitive skin. “Please, stop. Let me just bring you some water and I want to relax a bit, after… after everything that happened.”

It was kinda unexpected that Bateman decided to let you go as easy as that without even trying to overpower you like he always does.

“And what do you do to relax?"

“Hot bath.” You responded without looking at him. Annoyed, you stumbled past him to grab the meds he was inspecting a few minutes ago, and then you opened the fridge to take out the bottle of mineral water. As soon as you started to pour the water into the most beautiful glass you had, you noticed his persistent stare, which made you almost spill the water onto the kitchen counter. “What?”

“These pills are no good for you, (y/n),” his anxious tone was very unnatural, you didn’t even remember him sounding like this ever before. “Stop being stubborn.”

With a small thud, you put the glass on the table next to him and replied a bit aggressively: "I don't think they're worse than coke."

At first, Bateman just gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, but then he took a quick sip of the mineral water, trying as hard as he could to play cool.

“Thanks.” Was all he said and that was actually not the reaction you have expected.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air for some seconds and none of you wanted to continue this conversation, but once you tried to move his hand (that was wrapped around your forearm), his low voice engulfed you like a hot steam.

“Cupcake, I just want to make sure you won’t do anything bad.” “W-what do you mean?” You frowned in confusion and glanced at his hand before you raised your eyes to his perfect face. “Patrick, I suffer from panic attacks… not the things you're thinking of.”

“Then, go take a bath and I’ll leave after that.”

“But I’m not a child,” the more you were trying to resist him, the more your body was yearning for his touch, his large palm on your back was enough to make you forget how to breathe. “You don't owe me anything, this is my problem and I’ll handle this, just like I was doing it before.”

“To be fair, your behavior only shows how immature you are,” he crooned and traced a long, sensible line along your spine. “But, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since you’re overwhelmed.”

At some point, you found yourself tired from trying to convince him to leave you alone, so you just nodded and quickly took your sedative before heading to the bathroom under his attentive gaze. After all, even if you even attempted to make him go away you would fail because compared to him you were so small and weak — Patrick had power over you in all ways, and he knew that. 

You were trapped in your own flat, what nonsense.

In a few minutes, you were sitting in the bath and letting the warm water bring you some relief, just like it always did. Affected by sedatives, you didn’t even remember whether you closed the bathroom door or not, but being honest, you didn’t really care, because even if Patrick came here he wouldn’t see anything new. 

The bitter aftertaste of what happened made you feel like shit, and you really didn't know how to find a way out from it. As if it was not enough for you to be dependent on Patrick (you owe him a lot of money), now you gave him more weaknesses that he could potentially use against you. 

'Excellent!'

Hugging your knees, you burst in tears — salty tears that were falling into the water, leaving small circles on it. Before now, you didn’t even realize how devastated you were. You closed your eyes for a second and you drifted off almost instantly, and with each passing moment, your body was submerging into the water more and more.

Meanwhile, Bateman was sitting on the little couch in your living room, which he suddenly found pretty cozy, though he checked if everything was clean enough before he dared to take a seat. Did he really think that people outside Manhattan used to live in dirty, trashy apartments? Well, maybe he did, since he didn’t even remember when was the last time he was in such places.

Ever since you left, Patrick had been fighting the temptation to go through your things to find something interesting, which he would of course use for his own interests. But instead, he picked up one of your books from the coffee table, and as he did so, a small piece of paper fell out. Squinting suspiciously, Bateman leaned down to grab it, only to almost crumple it when he saw your handwriting —  the paper was completely covered with your notes, and they were all the same phrase — "If I want to be loved as I am, I have to be willing to love others as they are." Patrick couldn't count how many times you had written that, but each line he read evoked something strange in him — the unraveling feeling that urged him to rip the paper, to crumple it. Is it compassion that he was so afraid of?

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bateman took a deep breath and put the paper back in the book, no matter how much he wanted to destroy it or forget what he had just read. After that, he checked his Rolex and noticed that it had been quite a while since you had left. Slowly, he got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. His 'sixth sense' had never failed him before, so he decided to rely on it and check on you.

Patrick didn’t knock once he noticed that the door was not closed, he just stepped in, looking for you.

“Cupcake, are you—”

A chilling shock swept over him when he saw only the top of your head above the water. Without a second thought, he ran across the bathroom and knelt down beside the tub to pull you out of the water, and the moment he did, you began to cough, clinging to his arms and desperately gasping for air.

“Pat-Patrick,” you were shaking so badly, so he had to hold you in one place, pressing you against his solid chest. “I don’t know how that happened… I… I didn’t want this I—” “Shh, (y/n),” Bateman cooed at you in order to calm you down, but he wasn't any less scared than you. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Trembling, you looked up at him — your eyes so red from tears, your heart beating like a broken alarm-clock. “I think I ruined your suit… I’m so sorry!”

Appalled, you tried to break free but Patrick didn’t let you move, his strong arms were holding you like tight ropes. Damn, he was so angry — he could sense his blood boiling inside his veins, forcing his jaw to clench in a silent growl. He was so fucking mad at himself. 

How could he let this happen? 

As this question ran through his bewildered mind, he froze in fear. He didn't know if he was talking about letting you nearly drown in your own bathtub or letting you take roots on his broken soul. Maybe that was the reason you two had bonded, two broken souls seeking for something that would stop their pain, something that would bring them freedom from a burdened life. But how could he help you when every day he was fighting his dark side, the side you didn't know about yet? The side he wished you would never meet.

Never.

"God... I'm so stupid." You cried out, interrupting his train of thought and bringing him back to reality. 

"Shh," Bateman husked, cupping your face. "Stop talking!" He sighed and looked into your blurry eyes, breathing so heavily that it was almost painful. "Just don't say anything right now."

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the sedative had a side effect on you, but as soon as he tried to pull you out of the tub completely, your hand slipped down his chest to his groin — your sneaky fingers instantly playing with the buckle of his belt, causing a shaky groan to escape his lips. Dazed, you moved your hand lower to feel the outline of his thick cock getting harder under your touch, but as you were about to unzip his pants, his firm hand stopped you, confusing your cloudy mind and inducing you to raise your eyes to meet his. He could swear no one had ever looked at him like that — so innocently, yet so sinfully. 

"Cupcake, you don't want this," Patrick murmured, removing your hand. "Trust me."

"I do want this!" You replied in a trembling voice, pouting like a child.

"You're so fucking lost right now, you just don't understand," he manhandled you out of the tub and you almost punched him in his beautiful face, but Bateman paid no attention to your attempt to hit him. "Towels, where are they?"

Huffing, he lifted you up, and only then did you calm down, wrapping your hands and legs around him as securely as you could, like you were afraid of falling off the roof of the skyscraper. 

After you pointed at the bathroom counter, Bateman carefully moved towards it to take some big, white towel and wrap it around you — he was drying you off so gently and attentively, it almost made you cry again. 

Emotions were overtaking you.

Patrick didn't even say a word when he was done, he just got another dry towel and swaddled you in it like in a cocoon before carrying you out of the bathroom bridal style. Somehow, he managed to find the way to your bedroom, but once he saw your bed, he scowled and remarked: “Jesus, this bed is so small.”

“I love my bed.” You murmured in reply, hugging his neck and pressing yourself closer against his warm body.

Bateman couldn't help but chuckle in amusement, giving you a brief forehead kiss and sitting you down on the bed. As soon as you lost physical contact with him, you leaned on your elbows, watching him turn around and walk away.

“Patrick! Please, don’t go!” 

Your words echoed inside his head like the most sacred plea, they made him stop and looked in your direction. “I need to remove my clothes since they’re pretty damp,” he checked himself, with a visible disgust on his face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be a good girl, and just wait for me here, okay?”

“Fine.” You mumbled and took the plushy bunny which was resting on your bed next to you.

This scene made him chuckle before he left your bedroom. Now you were completely alone with your thoughts, they didn't wait a second to start eating you from the inside again. With your eyes closed, you lay on your back and began to count.

One, two, three…

What if he lied saying that he would return? Gosh, you wanted him to leave the moment you came here, so why were you getting so upset thinking about him leaving you alone just as you asked him for?

Four, five, six…

The inner voice kept reminding you how many times Patrick has hurt you, how many times he made you cry, how many times you felt like a toy in his hands. You gritted your teeth, pressing your hands against your head to stop thinking.

Seven, eight, nine…

How many times have you promised yourself that you would break out from this circle of lies, pain and suffering? 

“Stop it!” You whimpered, shutting your eyes as firm as you could until the tears started to form.

Ten.

“Stop what?” His voice—it was like a lifeline, like a light in the end of the tunnel, it was everything you needed here and now.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his almost naked form, namely his toned tiddies and his mouth watering V-line, not to mention his perfect abs and the small trail of hair below his navel.

“For one second I thought you would just leave.” You looked into his hazel eyes, which were partly covered by his messy, brown hair.

“In wet clothes?” He giggled and stepped closer to your bed. It was so hard to ignore the bulge in his tight white underwear, but you tried your best not to stare at it. “Feeling better?"

“Yes, I think y-yes,” you swallowed hard when Bateman sat on the edge of your small bed and drew an invisible line across your ankle. “Can I… ask you for something?”

“You can try.” His voice got lower, sending shivers down your spine.

Panting, you uncovered yourself, putting the towel aside and letting him admire the view of your beautiful body, a pleasure he gladly took, his thirsty eyes roaming all over your curves, especially your full breasts and your inviting neck.

“What do you want, Cupcake?” His hand slides up to your hip, teasing the sensitive skin and making you gasp from need. “Tell me.”

“I need you,” you bit your lower lip, frowning from how embarrassed you were. “I n-need you more than ever.”

With no rush, Bateman bent down to your belly to press a brief kiss which elicited a soft moan to fall from your shaky throat. “Show me where you need me.”

You were about to lost it at any second, as the mind-blowing passion was crashing over you like a fucking tsunami, and you didn’t even know if you would survive this. 

Could that be the moment of no return for both of you?

Stifling a moan, you took his big palm and guided between your opened legs—the sound of his fingers sliding along your oozed folds made you arched your back and you thought your heart would break out from your chest. Your heavy breathes filled up the room, and once you felt his hot lips on your mound, you nearly squeaked, creasing the sheets beneath you.

Patrick was enjoying every second of this moment, savoring the taste of your skin, reveling in all your little salacious noises when he encircled his arms around your legs and swiped his tongue over your throbbing clit.

That was the last drop of your resistance and you couldn't control it anymore, throwing your head back and mewling sensually: “Mmhm, Daddy…! You make me f-feel so good.”

“Are you sure you want this?” His sudden question pierced through your head like an electric pulse.

Gulping, you got up a bit to look down at him, his cheeks, neck and shoulders were already flushed, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were as dark as night.

“Yes,” you responded shortly, feeling a tight knot forming inside your lower abdomen just from being so close to his face. “Taste me, Daddy, please… I want to get lost… in you.”

“I see,” he said, hovering over you for a moment to grab the plushy bunny, then handing it to you with a mischievous grin. "Little girls always keep their favorite toys close?”

As soon as you held the bunny, Bateman got back to his previous position, fondling your hips here and there, then he kissed your inner thigh and put your legs together before bending them and pressing against your chest.

“Stay like that.”

After saying that, he brushed away his wavy locks, spit on your pussy and made several, barely sensible, strokes along your bundle of nerves, his sturdy arms were holding your legs to fixate you in one place as his ministrations were making it hard for you to stay still.

“Awww, P-Patrick,” you keened and squeezed the plush toy in your hand, feeling so dirty yet so high from the way his wet tongue was painting various ornaments on your taut lower lips. “I’m gonna faint…”

“Mmm,” he moaned against your feverish little bud before he took it inside his mouth, sucking it so deliciously that your eyes rolled back into your head, your inner walls were already spasming. “You’re my sweet little Cupcake.”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

Slurping at your soaked cunt, Bateman let you rest your legs on his shoulders and pull on his brown hair as you wanted to bring him even closer, moving your hips towards his face. God, you were such a wet moaning mess and when he shoved his long fingers inside of your dripping slit, you lost connection with reality and ascended to the apex of ecstasy.

His fingers were moving inside and outside of you like a clock-work, so smoothly and fast, since he knew your body so perfectly, it was quite simple for him to find your spongy G - spot. Once he started to stimulate it, your toes began to curve and your whole body was jolting as if you were hit by the eclectic shock.

The moment of your orgasm was as astonishing and relieving as a sip of water in the arid desert. But even after you cummed, Patrick didn’t stop eating you out, fingering you harder, so your juices were gashing around your sweaty bodies, the sheets beneath you were already wet and you didn’t know how you would live tomorrow when he leaves you.

“Mmmmh, I’mma cum again, D-Daddy!” You whimpered, squirming around the bed and pressing the plushy bunny against your face as you were on the verge of tears – overstimulation hitting pretty hard.

Bateman only growled in response and stuffed your soaked pussy with another finger, rhythmically swirling his hot tongue around your throbbing tip while his sneaky hand traced up along your shivering body to grope one of your breasts and pinch your engorged nipple.

“Ahhh—GOSH…! Pat...” Your voice cracked as you cummed so hard all around his face that your wetness was literally running down his chin. But he didn’t care, because the only thing that mattered for him was bringing you as much pleasure as he could.

Even when he was panting heavily against your abused cunt, and he almost couldn't feel his fingers anymore, he continued to lap at your cleft. By that moment your legs were looped around his head and you couldn’t stop twitching even for a second, with each lick he sent millions of tingles to your lower belly.

“Daddy, it’s t-too much… I can’t take it any longer.” You felt so goddamn sensitive, and your body was like jelly at this point.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he groaned in a raspy voice after he pulled on your clit with a nasty squeal. “You can give Daddy another one, can't you baby? For me, please?"

This time Patrick buried his tongue as deep inside your womb as he could, licking you from the inside out. He repeated the motion, making you climax countless times in a row, until your little frame couldn't bear it anymore. Soon, you drifted off with a smile of joy on your face, holding the plushy bunny close to your chest. Long time ago that toy was your only friend, but now it seemed like you have become a toy yourself. But unlike the plush bunny, it was obvious that you weren't the only toy for your owner.

Why did it hurt so good to be alive?

You heard a faint voice calling you and asking for help, but no matter how hard you tried to follow it and find it—all you could see was darkness before your eyes. Scared, you moved along the dark alley, surrounded by shadows, shivering from the abnormal cold, and for a second you even thought you were already dead. But when the voice called you again, you finally realized that it was your inner voice, but it sounded so sad, even compared to your darkest days.

"How did you end up like this, (y/n)?" Your own reflection spoke to you, each word cutting through your heart like a dagger. "You're so pathetic and weak, what would Mom and Dad say if they knew about your 'successful' life in New York?"

Frowning, you closed your hands around your ears to stop this madness, but the more you tried to ignore it, the louder the voice became in your head.

"Look what you've done to yourself! Do you really think he cares about you?" 

"Leave me alone!" You yelled at your shadow copy and ran down the alley, but there seemed to be no escape.

"Wake the fuck up! Bateman is just using you for his own needs, and you let him treat you like a fucking toy. Being in debt to him is not an excuse!" You could hear it even with your ears closed and there was nowhere to hide.

"SHUT UP!" You sped up, the cold air hitting your face mercilessly, but you didn't care. "Get out of my head!"

God, it was so fucking absurd to argue with yourself.

Perplexed and scared, you suddenly realized that the faster you were running the louder your inner voice was getting, bringing you a sharp headache as if a million needles cut into your brain at once. It hurt really bad.

“Patrick! Patrick, where are you?” You cried out as the darkness was clouding around you with each passing second. “Please, I need you…” A single tear slid down your warm cheek when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as though you were drowning. “Pat-Patrick…”

Slowly closing your eyes, you let the void consume you, which actually brought you some relief, because now you were free from pain and sorrow, reveling in the sweet space of non-existence.

A loud gasp bounced against the walls of your small bedroom, signaling of your eventual awakening. Panting, you sat on the bed only to see Bateman’s sleepy form next to you—he was sleeping like a baby, laying on his back and sniffling from time to time. Shocked, you were trying your best to regain your composure and steady your heavy breathing, not even noticing that you were drenched in sweat. 

Quietly, you slipped out from under the covers to find yourself completely naked, so the next thing you did was find something to put on. Subsequently, you rushed inside your small bathroom and saw Bateman’s clothes drying off on the battery—the memories of the recent events flashed across your mind like a slow-motion movie. First, you were taking a bath—which was still full of cold water—then you nearly drowned but Patrick came in time and literally saved you. The next flashbacks made you lean on the sink and hold back your breath—his eager mouth on your cunt, forcing you to lose your mind and cum again and again until you eventually drifted off. 

Jesus Christ.

Embarrassed, you quickly opened the water and washed your face several times until you cooled down a bit. After you regain your composure, you fasten your terry robe and head to the kitchen as you were so starved that you even had a stomach ache. 

New York was already awake, and the sun was high above the horizon, shining so brightly in the windows that you had to close your blinds and thank God it was Sunday and you didn't have to go to the office because your head was spinning due the aftereffect of your sedative pills. Speaking of them—once you saw the jar with pills on the kitchen counter you threw it into the rubbish without any second thought, yet you didn’t want Bateman to know that he had an influence on your decision. When you closed the door to the kitchen, you accidentally slammed it harder than you should have, and it cracked so loudly that it sounded like a bundle of dishes broke at the same time.

"Damn it!" You cursed to yourself, pressing a palm to your face, certain that the noise would wake Bateman up.

Panicking a bit, you retreated to your bedroom and as soon as you stepped in you saw the man of your dreams stretching out and yawning so adorable, that for a moment you just froze in your place, not capable of taking your eyes off from Bateman’s disheveled hair and his broad chest.

With a low growl, Patrick pulled the blanket away and finally noticed you. "Woah, Cupcake, was that you?" The man chuckled, casually flexing his muscles as he looked at the mirror next to the door where you were standing. "I thought something had exploded outside."

Abashed, you quickly adjusted your robe from his piercing gaze. "Sorry, I can be really..."

"Clumsy?" Smiling broadly, Bateman leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms. 

"Yes, clumsy," you tugged with your fingers, briefly glancing down—damn, he seemed to be the only person who could embarrass you so easily. "Well...do you want anything?"

"Hmmm, let me think," Patrick hummed before he thoughtfully pressed a finger to his plump lips. "I probably have something on my mind," Bateman gave you a mischievous grin when he saw your curious look and smoothed his golden brown hair. "How about a morning blowjob?" Your instant reaction was a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which made the man's face look even more smug. "Relax! I'm joking." 

Of course he wasn't joking—you knew it and couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd pretend I didn't hear that," you said, finally looking away from his sturdy body. "How about breakfast?"

"That sounds really good."

Shocked, you took a moment to think about the possible options you could cook for him since you didn’t really expect him to give you a positive answer. “I can offset you with a scrambled egg and some fresh orange juice.”

With a satisfied grin, the man slowly got up from your modest bed and stretched his muscles again; he was definitely making it on purpose. “Oh, that’s nice,” he almost groaned when he cocked his head to one side then to another. “I can’t say the same about your bed, Cupcake… you should change the mattress if you want to keep walking with a straight back.”

And though Patrick was lamenting, you could say he said it almost affectionately—as if he really cared about you, yet you brushed this conclusion off as fast as your heart was pounding right now when the man got closer to you; his tall, massive frame towered over you like a mountain.

“I also would like to have a shower, if…there’s such an option,” Bateman smirked and briefly traced a finger along your cheek, coaxing you to close your eyes for a second and revel in the soft sensation of his touch. “Did you sleep well?”

A sudden question that fell from his lips like a suffocated gasp, a tender stroke on your shoulder and you were already melting as Patrick knew what he was doing, every touch, every glance of his brown hypnotic eyes was deliberate and smooth, leaving you no chance but to surrender to his demand.

“Yes, I slept like a baby, though I can hardly remember the things that happened before I blacked out,” you lied with an embarrassed smile. “You can have a shower and use whatever soaps and towels you’ll see.” Thee more you talked the more his lips curled, especially when you allowed him to bring you closer into his embrace. “But don’t expect anything extraordinary.”

“I won’t, I promise,”  the man chuckled and playfully pinched your ass. “Sleeping beauty.”

With that, Patrick walked past you, leaving you alone for a moment, giving you a chance to pull yourself together. And when you seemed to relax, a thought of his clothes that had been left in the bathroom popped up in your mind. ‘Oh God, I forgot!’

Nervously, you rushed after Patrick into your bathroom to see that the door was already closed, implying that he was inside and probably naked, though you couldn’t hear the sound of flowing water. Embarrassed, you coughed quietly and knocked several times.

“Yeah?” Bateman’s muffled voice echoed through the door. 

“Patrick, I…” a short pause turned into a breathless gasp. “If you’re not already in the shower, may I come in?”

After a moment, the door in front of you opened and you saw Patrick wrapped in a white towel. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you giggled nervously and sneaked inside the bathroom to quickly grab his clothes. “I just wanted to iron your…suit and stuff, while you’re in the shower…” Quickly, you hovered his garments over your arm and walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions, despite his surprised expression. “I’m so sorry for dumping your clothes yesterday.”

With these words, you deftly avoid his grasp as you knew he’d definitely try to make you embarrassed even more. “(Y/n)!”

“Take a shower. I’ll make you breakfast as I promised.” 

This time, the man didn’t try to catch you or follow you, thankfully. So, you could safely make it to your living room where you set an ironing board and put his shirt first to iron. Wrapped in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how carefully you were ironing his clothes, you couldn’t even remember doing the same with your stuff but maybe you were just scared of ruining it since everything he wore was utterly expensive. ‘This suit probably costs like my monthly rent.’ Sighing, you put the shirt aside when you heard the water flowing sound and your mind instantly gave you an image of Patrick’s naked body, enveloped in steam and slightly flush from the heat. ‘Damn, I should stop or I'm gonna ruin something.’ When it was time to iron his tie, you ran your finger along the smooth red fabric, draped in beautiful intricate patterns—you couldn't deny that you had a thing for his ties, for all of them—you smiled to yourself before bringing it to your lips, you could still feel his cologne on it. This tantalizing scent was driving you crazy, it fit him so perfectly as if it was made specially for him, but even if that was true, you wouldn’t be surprised at all, regarding how rich this man was. The moment you finished ironing his pants, you seemed to hear his voice coming from the bathroom. ‘Perfect timing.’

Slightly tensed, you stopped next to the door. “Patrick? Did you call me?” When he didn’t reply, you became even more stirred, so without really caring about seeing him naked, you opened the door and stepped in. “Patrick?” Since your bathroom was much smaller than his, you bumped into his massive frame, squealing in surprise. “Oh God, sorry!”

“Oh, Cupcake,” he wrapped his hands around your shoulders before carefully cupping your face. “I hope you didn’t break your nose against my firm chest?”

Frowning, you gave him a dead glare but he only snickered back. “What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush for me? I’ll buy you another one and…”

You stopped him halfway and removed his hands to stroll to the sink and opened the cabinet above it. “Here. There’s also a razor if you need.”

Smirking, Bateman sneaked behind you and pressed his wet body against yours. “Do ya think I need to shave?” He rubbed the mirror from steam to check himself, sliding a hand along his chiseled chin.

“I…I don’t know…I just thought in case you need to, the razor is here.”

“Mhm…” he hummed and before you knew it he nuzzled against your exposed neck, forcing you to gasp and stepped back right into his embrace, just like he planned it. “Does that tickle, Cupcake?” 

‘Dear Lord, please give me the strength to survive this.’

Staying still, you just swallowed hard and let him continue to attack your neck, which he did with precious care before, but now, Patrick also used his mouth and teeth, and that was already too much.

"I think you definitely have some stubble," you laughed, trying to turn it into a joke. But as soon as you tried to walk away, he pulled you back into his strong arms, and that was not funny. "Breakfast Patrick, I have to make breakfast, did you forget?"

"Not really, but I need your help."

"Help?"

The man gave you a devilish smile before lifting you up and sitting you on the bathroom counter, not even giving you a chance to protest. Then Bateman took the shaving cream, checking the brand name skeptically, but then averting his eyes, probably thinking it was better not to know. With deliberate, calculated movements, he applied the cream to his cheekbones, moving up and down his face. The sight was something you never thought you'd find so damn hot that you didn't even make a sound, just watched him carefully prepare to shave.

"Have you ever seen a man shave, darling?" Patrick asked in a cheeky tone, surely noticing the way you were staring at him.

You shook your head. “No,” you shamelessly checked on him, following the little buds of water slipping down his torso. “God, this is such a silly question, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Bateman flexed his muscles while watching in the mirror and missing the way you rolled your eyes. “Well, now you finally have a chance.” The man winked at you and grabbed the razor. “You know, I really like your place, it’s pretty clean.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yes,” you crossed your arms and turned away just the moment when the man started to glide the razor against his jawline—you thought the blade would become blunt because his cheekbones were too sharp—his every action was smooth and skillful. “That was the first thing you said when we came in.”

“That only means that it’s really very clean here.”

Huffing, you fixed your robe and cursed to yourself, ‘Why does he always have to be like this?’

Opening the faucet, Patrick cleaned his face after the last stroke of the razor. “Can you check here?” 

Confused, you gave him a questioning gaze when he turned halfway, pointing at the apex of his jaw. Sheepishly, you touched his freshly shaved skin, feeling a slight prickly sensation. “I think it’s still a bit stubbly.” 

“Aha,” Bateman acknowledged and quickly took your hand in his big one, briefly kissing the top of it and giving you the razor. “I told you, I’d need your help, Cupcake.” “How do you even do it yourself?”

“The razors I use are much sharper than this one, honey,” he chuckled but once you placed the razor against his skin he stopped moving. “Just be careful.”

The last phrase struck a chord inside your chest and you even stopped for a moment to take a deep breath before you eventually began to shave the rest of the stubble. All the while, Patrick would glance at you attentively, his hazel irises like hypnotizing spirals, so you forced yourself to stay focused on the razor and the patch of his skin still covered in a shaving cream.

“You have such soft skin,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but you were sure he heard it. “It’s so pleasurable to touch.”

“(Y/n),” he suddenly called out your name in a stern voice. “I think we should talk about yesterday.” “No…”

"Listen to me," he grabbed the hand that held the razor and pushed it to the side. "You should stop taking that sedative."

“It was just an accident.” 

“You could die, Cupcake…”

"I...I know...I owe you for saving me," you finally stated, releasing your hand to finish shaving him. "But let me take care of my life."

“Ouch.”

“Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” You jolted in panic, almost dropping the razor as if you were hit by the electric shot.

“Yes, you did,” Bateman glided a palm along his now perfectly shaved cheeks. “With your words.”

Letting out a sad sigh, you put the razor into the sink next to you and reached for another towel for him as you watched him washing his face. The more you kept silent, the more palpable the tension was getting in the air and after a brief moment of contemplating, you decided that the best option now was just to go to the kitchen and cook.

“Toothbrush is here.” You murmured and got up from the bathroom counter, about to leave but Patrick stopped you. 

First, you glanced down at his grasp around your wrist, then you raised your eyes to meet his walnut ones, now they were absolutely dark and demanding. Inch by inch, the man was getting closer, soon you could feel the fresh scent of your soap on his wet skin as he pressed you along his broad form, one hand rested on the small of your back, while another snaked beneath your robe to outline one of your hard peaks, which were visible through the fabric.

“Pat-Patrick…”

“No more ‘Daddy’ again, huh?” he whispered into your ear, playing with your stray lock. “Do you remember how many times you called me like that last night?”

‘No! I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember this, I…’

“...your sweet voice sounded so good with all these little dirty pleas, ‘Daddy, don’t stop, mmhm-please!’ Uhhh, that was really something,” Bateman crooned against your neck, forcing you to step back until he trapped you between his massive body and bathroom counter. “Got you.”

There was nothing to say more, once his warm mouth latched on yours, the urge to deny him fading with every second of the kiss, especially when Patrick savagely sucked on your lower lip and drew his tongue across it as if asking for permission to slip inside.

Gasping, you instinctively inclined your head to the side for a moment and the man used it for showering your delicate neck with little peeks which then transformed into wet, red marks. This sweet torture could last forever if you suddenly didn’t press your palm against his naked chest in a determined way.

“We can’t,” you protested when he got down to kiss you again. “You’re engaged, don’t you think it’s so mean to…cheat on your fiance?”

The man couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What does that have to do with anything? You owe me, Cupcake, you owe me a lot.” 

Annoyed, you made an attempt to push him away, but you obviously failed as Patrick was too strong, looming over you like a mountain. “If you mean the last time—I already thanked you and moreover, I didn’t ask you to do it, you know?” You watched his face changing into something more impish, the corners of his lips curled up as if everything was happening according to his plan. “You always decide for me…maybe it’s time to stop?”

Bateman chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to finally open your eyes?”

“Are you…really telling me this?!”

“You owe me a pretty big sum of money,” the man suddenly turned the conversation in another way. “And we had a deal…” Carefully, he trailed his finger along your cheek like an artist admiring his most precious creation. “Do you think I’d be so patient with your bad attitude to me if I were not really into you, hmm?”

The last words made you swallow hard and turned away for a moment, as you were on the verge of tears. Did he really just confirm that there was some kind of affection for you from his side?

“I…I know I owe a lot of money, but believe me, I’ll back them soon,” you removed his arms from your waist but the next second, Patrick placed them on the bathroom counter behind you from both sides, not allowing you to go away. “Please, believe me.”

“I don’t need that fucking money,” Patrick barked and unexpectedly gripped your shoulders, but when he noticed the glowing fear in your eyes, the man loosened his grasp and cupped your face. “I need you. Both your body and soul.”

Closing your eyes, you wanted to sink through the ground. “You want me to do things that you can’t buy with money…” you declared with a chilling coldness in your voice. “Other women are okay with being your toys, but I’m not. Now, let's finish this conversation, it won’t lead to anything.”

A tired sigh broke out from Bateman’s broad chest and for a second he even thought to let you go and turned over the page of the story of two broken souls, who met themselves so suddenly. Maybe now was that exact moment he was waiting so long, the moment to open the cards and confess, even though Patrick could hardly believe it would work.

"You don't seem to be listening to me at all," was all the man could say. "And that's not surprising, since no one really listens to me. Because...uhh...because no one really cares about what really bothers me…" He let you go and stepped back. "And you...I thought you were the only person who...who actually tried to understand me and act naturally."

"Patrick..."

He raised his hand in an eloquent gesture to let him continue. "You probably did it all because of the debt, but...I'll be honest, sometimes I made myself believe that you weren't acting like this just because of the money."

"Is this another manipulation?" You asked bluntly, holding back your tears. "How could I believe you after all the things you did to me? How many times did you treat me like a puppet that you no longer wanted to play with? And not to mention that you turned out to be engaged!" You grabbed your head and leaned against the bathroom counter, massaging your temples. "This is already too much."

The man huffed and cautiously approached you. With a soft, feathery movement, he touched your hands and pulled them away from your strained face. "At least you seem to care that I'm engaged," he said abruptly, moving you closer so that your head was now pressed against his massive chest. "I know it's overwhelming, (y/n). But..." the words suddenly stuck in his throat like a lump. "You're not alone in this." Patrick urged curly, running his large palm along the crown of your head before resting his chin on it, inhaling the scent of your soft hair. 

‘Not alone’, you repeated inside your head and looked up into his brown eyes, which were now so stern and contemplative—you have never seen them like that before. This man, oh God, this man was such a mess, he was making you lose the ground beneath your feet with his sudden confessions, but in the end, actions spoke louder than words, even though you wanted to believe him and sink into the strong feeling you had towards him—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in him as you would burn out like a match.

All the while you were standing like that, Bateman was hoping you would say something in return, but when you didn’t, he just released you from his embrace without saying a thing. Overwhelmed by emotions, you left the bathroom and let him finish his hygienic routine in private.

A bit later, you didn’t even remember how you cooked a breakfast for both of you, the only thing you did remember was his positive comment that it tasted pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile, though your plate still stood untouched. Patrick noticed that, but didn’t make any comments about that.

“To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to be that nice,” he chuckled and finished his glass of mineral water that he didn’t really like. Quickly checking his Rolex, which he wore right after he took a shower, he added, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?”

“Sure.” You raised up and quickly strolled to the iron board where his suit and shirt were waiting to be presented to their owner. “Here, I ironed them for you.”

Bateman froze in shock for a moment. “You…ironed them?”

“Uh, yes, but I did it very carefully, I know everything you wear is utterly expensive,” you gave him his garments and he started to examine every thing with meticulous attention. “I…I thought you wouldn’t like to go outside in rumpled clothes.”

"That's… that's very sweet of you, Cupcake. Really…" he replied, his blush barely noticeable to anyone but you. "Thanks…thanks for everything."

“You’re welcome.” You murmured shyly, crossing your arms over the chest and watching him getting up from the table and walking to your bedroom to dress up.

Moments later, you both were standing in your small hallway, Patrick fixing his tie and coat, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“How do I look?” He asked nonchalantly, putting on the headphones of his Walkman.

Slightly upset, you leaned against the wall, your eyes gliding up and down his elegant, tall silhouette; the way the dark blue trench coat sat on his broad shoulders made you almost gasp in admiration.

“Perfect as always,” you stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. “You’re like a Vogue cover which came alive.”

Fluttered, Bateman smiled and caught your hand to place a kiss on top of it. “And I always believe your compliments, they are so…sincere or…” he paused and looked into your eyes. “...or I’m just fooling myself.”

His usual chuckling now was less happy and it stirred something inside of you, so when you got up on your toes to kiss his cheek, Patrick took it like another chance to be intimate with you. With unhidden tenderness, the man pulled you into his arms to seal your mouths with a soft but passionate kiss which brought some unexpected relief for both of you.

“You know, I…I really appreciate your courage to be open with me,” you suddenly confessed when he broke the kiss, still holding you close. “It’s just that I need some time to think over things and…my life is such a mess.”

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that," Bateman sneered ironically to himself. "Since I know who made your life so messy," he stopped you from saying anything else by pressing his finger to your lips. Then the man slowly leaned down so that your foreheads now touched in the most intimate way. "Promise me you won't take those pills again."

"And you promise me you won't say things like no one gives a fuck about you," you gripped his arm, rubbing his firm bicep under the soft fabric of his coat. "Because I do give a fuck about you, even though I don't really like it."

"We'll talk about...us. That's the only promise I can make right now."

"Us?"

"You heard what I said," he pinched your nose, just like after the fashion show. "I'll call you today and Cupcake?" He leaned down to whisper in your ear, accidentally brushing his nose against your neck. "You're always on my mind, but I still haven't decided if it's good or not." The way he used your words to tease you brought a broad smile to your face, but the next time, all joy faded as the man stroked your cheek one last time before stepping aside to check himself in the mirror. "Hope to see you soon, darling."

With that he closed the door behind him and as much as you hated saying goodbye, you hated the moments like that, when you couldn’t control yourself as your emotions peaked, causing your knees to buckle and you stopped yourself from falling down only because you managed to lean on the nearby wall. The whole thing about your relationship with Bateman was one big mistake, as you would never find yourself belonging to this world—your meeting was a joke of fate—no less to say. Although you knew it, your heart was like a rebellion who refused to listen, to obey, to accept the truth that there were no chances to turn this situation in a way that would help these relationships to become healthy and normal. ‘Normal, huh? Do yuppies even know such a word?’ Laughing ironically to yourself, you got up and went back into your kitchen to wash the dishes. The sight of Patrick sitting here with a glass of water in his hand was still so fresh in your mind, but now you began to doubt if that really had happened. 

All day later, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, waiting for his call but he never did it. It was not surprising after the shit that man had done, but today you were really hoping he would keep his word. But your hopes were broken to pieces again, in the most brutal possible way because you really decided to give it a try and believed him.

When the night came to New York City, you were standing in your living room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking about what would you do next and trying to think less about what Patrick was doing right now…and even less about with whom he probably could be. ‘...with Courtney or maybe with his fiance, Evelyn?’ You snickered sadly to yourself and finished your drink. Coffee was supposed to help you to keep awake but instead it only made you even more sleepy, so you didn’t even realize how you fell asleep on your little couch while putting down the notes of how today’s day had gone in your diary.

The next moment you were awakened by the sudden doorbell, which caught you off guard and even scared you a bit as you didn’t wait for anyone. Quickly enveloping your robe, you got up and saunted to the door to look at the peephole—you would lie to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting someone specific, but when you saw nothing but flowers, your heart skipped a beat. 

With one swift motion, you opened the door and an unknown guy instantly greeted you with a polite tone. “Good morning, miss (y/n),” he then handed you a big bouquet of red and white roses—it was so heavy you could barely hold it. “Uh, can you please put your sign here?”

Confused, you pressed the flowers to your chest to see the man’s face. “Are you… are you sure it’s for me?”

The courier only smiled and giggled. “Of course, but you can check the address, if you want,” the man showed you the paper with the order details. “We make no mistakes, miss, that’s why our service is the best around New York.”

“I see,” you responded and put your signature on the place he pointed you. “But, can I ask you who sent me this?”

“There’s a card inside if I’m not mistaken,” the courier replied and with that he put the paper inside his bag. “Have a good day, ma'am.”

“Thanks.” 

With that, you closed the door and somehow proceeded into your living room where you put the bouquet on the coffee table and began to look for the vase for it. When you managed to find it, you poured some water and placed the flowers into it, then you remembered the courier’s words about the card and the next second you were already leafing through the flowers. Soon, a small white card caught your attention and when you picked it out, the first thing you noticed was two beautiful letters—P.B. in the end of the text which said: 

“Good morning, my sweet Cupcake, 

I’m sorry I didn’t call you tonight, I was extremely busy and didn’t really have any free time, but I hope this little gift would cheer you up a bit. What do you think about going to a yacht club these weekends? I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Utterly yours, P.B.” 

Your hands began to shake the moment you finished reading, but you managed to regain your composure. Driven by the unbridled happiness inside your chest, you leaned down to inhale the sweet scent of flowers—God, it felt like a dream. And speaking of dreaming—you were still so sleepy that after you finally calmed down, you decided to come back into the bed and nap a little bit longer. The sheets were still smelling of him, coaxing you to rub your face against the pillows and imagine him being here with you and somehow, you finally realized how deep this man was rooted inside your heart. ‘Utterly yours…’ You kept replaying these words inside your head until you drifted off to another dream, but this time, it was not a nightmare, but a heaven where Patrick was only yours, and you were his only one.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[petew21-blog]

Bodysitting gone wrong

I thought that the site had only verified sitters. Imagine my surprise when I found out my body had disappeared. He didn't answer any of my calls and even blocked me ony the Bodysitting site. I contacted the support, but they said they need some proof of violation of the contract.

Let me just make it clear to you. I am a manager for a big company. My work life is stressful as it is. Me and my wife just had our first baby and I swear I love them both, but I just can't stand it. I needed to get some rest for a while. Until my colleague suggested a Bodysitting site. Where verified strangers can agree to swap life with you for some financial ammount and pretend to be you. You either continue their life or if you pay up you can do whatever you want. Which was exactly what I wanted.

I set up a profile a submitted my photo. Because of my muscular torso and probably even the dick size and wife I mentioned, the request kept flowing in.

I eventually choose Rick here. He was young, handsome and even here in the same city, so if anything happened I could always come by. We had a whole conversation where he would ask me details about my life, work, wife everything. He really wanted to be good as me.

The swap was instant. I was suddenly in a small apartement on the edge of the city.

I think I chose perfectly. I can even get a date in this body.

As I said before, I really love my life. But we haven't had sex for such a long time. You have to understand.

Back to present

I got a call of thepossible whereabouts of the location of my body. Yeah, I have to be honest. I was horrified when I arrived there. The place was a gay club. But not one of those "sweet" bars. But a pub for those leather fuckers.

I entered and all eyes were on me. Fuck, I didn't realise that this kid is exactly who they want.

But they I saw my body coming out of the bathroom. I wouldn't almost recognise it if it weren't for the beard.

"What the hell have you done?!?"

"Oh hey, that's a face I didn't expect to see so soon. Want something to drink?"

"No, I want you to explain to my why you did everythig we agreed not to do. You got me tatooed, got my nipples pierced and please tell me that's not a mohawk under that hat?"

"You know what, you don't have to worry about that anymore. I know how you were unhappy with your life, so I decied to give you a present. You can keep the body. Great right?"

"What do you mean keep the body? What have you done with my life?"

"Well. Your wife kind of figured out I'm not you the second night after she caught me in the shower fingering your butt. I explained to her and I think you shouldn't get near her any time soon. Anyway none of this matters. I deleted the profile, so there is no going back if there aren't both of the original profiles that made the deal."

"I'm gonna kill you!" I jumped at him, but in a second I was pressed against the wall with a hand on my neck.

"Look, either you leave and nothing happens to you. Or me and the boys here can show why not to threaten any of us. So, what you wanna do?"

I obviously left. What was I suppose to do? He would beat me up, rape me or even kill me. I contacted the support and even their number was blocked now. Amazing. I hope my wife is into twinks

[crepezinhos]

Scaramouche + Wanderer NSFW ABCs

SCARAMOUCHE’S POV: You and Scaramouche are friends with benefits. You’re a human but you are incredibly the Seventh Fatui Harbinger. You used to have a rivalry with the Sixth Harbinger because you always thought you were stronger. Slowly, you two start to realize you have many things in common and compete each other in a different way.

WANDERER’S POV: You and Wanderer are a couple. You are a student at the Akademiya and used to be one of his fans when he still was Scaramouche, but, just like everyone else, you forgot his existence after he deleted hisself from the Irminsul. Wanderer met you again when he saw you being cornered by Fatui Agents and saved you from them because he still felt thankful for your support to him in the past. Because of this event, you began talking to him more frequently to him and he quickly fell in love for you, even if he promised to never do so again.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is obviously a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Both characters will have some PTSD and are pretty toxic in some topics

— Contains MANY kinky topics such as: Creampie, dressed sex, degradation, oral sex, body marking, bondage, overstimulation, teasing, unfairness, masturbation, public sex, quickies, unprotected sex, usage of elemental powers, sexualization of common / daily activities and probably more

A - Aftercare (How are they like after it and how do they treat you?)

Scaramouche: Scaramouche would usually win the “competitions” you two had, and whenever he did so he’d be pretty snobby about it. He would help you clean up and put you in a comfy place but he’d make sure to keep smirking and staring at your soul through every second of it. Depending of what the competition was about, and who begun it, he’d joke or be ironic about it. Good luck trying to live peacefully after losing to him on a challenge you did by yourself.

“Here you go. I know it’s hard to survive a challenge against me, so I just want to make sure you are not in a vegetative state!” He joked, handing you a cup of water with a very proud smile in his face after barely breaking your mind in bed.

Wanderer: He’d definitely keep the aftercare for the next morning. He feels embarrassed enough to get naked in front of you before it, so he definitely doesn’t want you to see him naked, panting, sweaty and blushing after it. He will immediately lay down and quickly cover the both of you up, cuddling your head until you’re asleep. After some minutes or hours watching you sleep while messing with your hair, he will get up, dress up and do whatever he has to do to make you wake up to a perfect scenario.

“Sit down, I brought you breakfast.” He asked, putting a four-legged tray on top of your waist as soon as you were set to. It had your favorite meal for breakfast and your favorite snacks and drink around it. He already had his clothes on and you had just woke up from an exhausting sex night. “So… did you like it..?” He asked, sitting by your side but avoiding eye contact. You could see him clearly blushing tho.

B - Body Part (What is their favorite part of your body and why?)

Scaramouche: Your hips. If he’s holding your hips, he has the control of it all, and he loves that feeling. He loves to see you sway your hips when walking, see you in clothes where your hips are valued, he loves to grip on them until they get red by the pressure of his fingers, he loves squeezing them and other body parts around it like your belly and tights and he really loves seeing you sway them, especially when you’re riding him.

“Fuck..! If you keep swaying your hips like that… I might actually pass out.” Says Scaramouche between low groans, trying to pretend like he’s not losing the current challenge. His eyes and hands locked on your hips like a hunter. You were swaying them in a way that was driving him absolutely crazy for you.

Wanderer: Your wrists. Even after deleting hisself from the Irminsul and going through his past identity of Scaramouche, he still likes to have total, or most control of sex. He will always lock both your wrists down by either pulling or pushing them to the ground depending on your position, and he does it hard just like his past self. The difference is that he’s just not that kinky anymore and doesn’t even realize how much he likes to hold your wrists.

“Stop moving.” Wanderer ordered between his many moans, grabbing both your wrists and pushing them harder into the wall he was thrusting you against.

C - Cum (Where do they most like to cum?)

Scaramouche: If Scaramouche has the opportunity to cum in your chest or in your face, he will always do it. He absolutely loves the power sensation he gets from doing that to you. He also really enjoys doing it inside and seeing you take it all until you can’t anymore and ends dripping some of it, but he prefers to watch you cleaning your face or chest after having his cum all around it.

“Look at you… letting yourself have all my cum around you like a toy… humiliating.” Scaramouche joked as he watched every single drop of his cum eject from his dick to your chest after fucking you in missionary position with a big smirk in his face.

Wanderer: Inside. Wanderer became a very reserved guy after going through the Irminsul, so his love for the power he got from cumming outside was absolutely lost. He also developed a really weird and unexpected perfectionism, so he doesn’t want to be responsible for cleaning up a mess he can avoid.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s ok, it’s ok. Just take it all in and it will be over in a second.” He said neutrally as he came it all inside your womb, holding you still as you trembled in agony of the feeling of being filled up.

D - Dirty Secret (A sexual wish that they have but you still don’t know about)

Scaramouche: Creampie. Scaramouche has a really kinky wish of seeing you dripping (specifically his) cum out of your pussy. Why would he dream such an specific thing? Power. Scaramouche loves that feeling and if he ever had you dripping his seed when it was initially blown inside you, it would be the ultimatum pleasure to him. He just simply doesn’t tell you about it because the amount of orgasms it would take to have you dripping cum is far from your limits. Unfortunately, you are a human. That means you could never take it that far. That’s why he prefers cumming outside you, so you don’t get enough in a single round.

Wanderer: The day Wanderer saw you dressed as Traditional Sumeru dancer (like Nilou) for an annual festival in Sumeru, was the day he first developed a sexual wish with that new identity. It took him a lot of time to realize he was having TOO many dirty thoughts about it and it took him even more to realize he would like to experience sex with you like that. He just doesn’t tell you that secret because it has been months since you wore that costume. It would be too “out of nowhere” and he’s afraid you’ll find that funny. He will wait until next year, and if the idea keeps bothering his sleeping hours, he will find a way to gather the courage he needs and tell you. He has become a very reserved guy, give him a break.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Scaramouche: Before meeting you, Scaramouche had a low body count. He would only do it with prostitutes and only when he was stressed. That means he wasn’t perfect at it when you two started having sex together, which made you underestimate him at the beginning even if he did win you in the very first round. But time goes on, and you two started doing it almost every day. That means he became an expert pretty quickly and overcame your abilities. He could easily make any woman go insane with his sex, but he prefers keeping all his tricks just for you.

Wanderer: In this universe, his past self also had a even lower body count since he would also only do it with prostitutes and he never had a girlfriend. And unfortunately, he lost most of his already low experience throughout the process of deleting his memories in the Irminsul and then regaining them again. He still will pleasure you greatly, but he knows no much more than the basic stuff. At least he’s trying to become better at it just to make you love him more by trying different paces, positions, places and more.

F - Favorite Position (What is their favorite position to do it?)

Scaramouche: Doggy Style. As you probably know by now, Scaramouche is a huge fan of power. So it shouldn’t be unexpected for him to love fucking you from behind brutally. Seeing your back arched to its core, all your hair being pulled into his direction and your buttocks and hips marked with his hands… it just makes him feel too confident.

“I’m barely seconds in… and you already lost the competition… and made a fucking mess.” He cursed, leaning closer to you just to whisper the joke in your ear while pulling your hair slightly.

Wanderer: Spooning. Wanderer is a guy that needs assurance and love 24/7. So, being able to feel most of your skin touching his while having sex somehow reassures him that you are enjoying it as much as him. The fact that he can also shove his mouth on your shoulders to censor his moans and you can’t really see him in that position comforts him. He’s still very reserved about this kind of thing, so he still feels embarrassed to let you see him naked or hear him moaning.

“Do you like it..?” Wanderer asks huskily between wet moans in your shoulder. “Good…” He says, gently smooching your neck afterwards.

G - Goofy (How seriously do they take it?)

Scaramouche: It’s pretty obvious that Scaramouche is pretty goofy when doing it, but in a bad way. He’s not going to make silly comments or compliment you. No… most of the times he’ll annoy you to the last nerve with his typical comments or jokes and destroy your dignity. At least… he’s only goofy with you and only you.

“Hey, why do you seem so frustrated? Weren’t you the one that started this?” He asked, grabbing your wrists and locking them behind you when you tried to hold him down to stop going so fast and got mad at him for not doing so.

Wanderer: Wanderer is absolutely serious when he’s having sex with anyone. He will not make a single joke or comment about anything. It would remind him of his past self, which is pretty uncomfortable to him but he also considers sex a moment of extreme intimacy where no jokes should be done.

“W-What are you smiling at..?” Asked Wanderer insecure about the tiny smile in your face. You two were doing it in missionary this time and you were simply admiring the view right above you. He was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

H - Hair (How many hair do they have down there?)

Since they’re the same person and puppet, both of them share the same answer: they have no body hair at all besides their eyebrows and actual hair. Don’t ask me… Ei is who created him…

I - Intimacy (How intimate and romantic are they through it?)

Scaramouche: Initially, Scaramouche wasn’t romantic nor intimate at all. He would simply enjoy the sexual pleasure of the moment and leave you in your bed to sleep after being railed. But within time, he started to get attached to you even if he tried to deny it. So he started to let out some genuine compliments, kiss and hug you through it, spend more time with you after it and tell you his sexual wishes. Even with this tiny development, he still isn’t the most romantic guy. He becomes very embarrassed when the sex gets too real and will try muttering jokes and cover his sounds to make it more savage because he doesn’t understand that sex is a human instinct and that he’s feeling it.

“This is so fucking so good…” He moaned between the wet and breathy kiss, while his hips rocked hard against yours. One of his hands was gripping on your hand tight while the other one was barely breaking your hips. But when he realized how weird that was, he decided to mumble any joke that came to his mind. “Out of all cum sluts out there, you’re definitely my favorite..! This is worth some extra tips…” He tried to joke, even tho he was saying you’re his favorite partner.

Wanderer: Wanderer, in the other hand, is way more intimate with you. Living with Nahida and studying in the Akademiya made him earn some morality and values he would’ve never learned as a Harbinger. Falling in love with you also made him view some things differently and seriously. For example, the day he entered your room when you were changing. He spent days thinking about what he saw and didn’t understand why he felt so amused by it when he had seen many naked women in his life already? That means that he also feels embarrassed when you see him undress at your front. His attention will be 100% at you, looking for any signs or comfort or discomfort, kissing you everywhere and hugging you all the time. He will not say many things and will not make comments at all, but he’ll make sure you two are in the same environment.

“This is amazing… I don’t wanna stop…” Wanderer moaned while throwing his head to the air. You two were having a very hot missionary sex under the sheets and the overwhelming sweat and heat of your bodies was making him feel wonders.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

Scaramouche: He wouldn’t jack off frequently. When he felt horny he would just go at you, challenge you in something, make it sexual and fulfill his desires there and now. He’d also have sex with you before going away to missions so his wishes wouldn’t disturb him during the mission. But if became too long, like a month or more, he would sit down in a chair or floor and do it. He would also start masturbating when you two had an appointment to have sex and he knew you were arriving soon, so you’d arrive to a very teasing view.

“You… finally arrived..!” Scaramouche said between low groans. He was masturbating in chair, completely backwards to you, already pretty close to his orgasm. “What am I doing? I’m just making these hours of waiting you less useless…” He joked, still not stopping his movements.

Wanderer: No. Absolutely no. Wanderer will try his best to avoid masturbation. Why? Because the only time where he felt that desperate to touch himself like that, Nahida entered the room without knocking on the door. He spent days avoiding her, even if she completely understood that instinct and wanted to apologize for barging in the room without his consent. Even if you’re away for an appointment and he gets hormonal, he’ll prefer to simply close his eyes and imagine you two having sex, rather than jacking his dick up and down.

“No, I’m not gonna do it.” He said to hisself while trying to sleep, changing his position again. His dick was brick hard but he was trying to ignore it. His brain wasn’t helping tho, making him imagine the both of you having sex with some extra erotic details that were only making him more and more horny. “Hell..! Why is this feeling so fucking insistent..?!”

K - Kinks (Do they have any kinks that you know of?)

Scaramouche: Absolutely. Scaramouche has many kinks and fetishes but the ones that most turn him on are degradation and dominance. Taking control of things and putting people in their place has always been the thing he’s most good at and also his favorite thing. So it isn’t hard for him to do it in sex nor uncomfortable. He’ll make you suck him like a leech, he’ll leave your ass cheeks red from the quantity of slaps given there, he’ll make you beg for him and way more… this guy is an iceberg you don’t wanna go through…

“Show me how much you want this, you little slut.” Scaramouche ordered while fucking you from behind brutally, making you instantly arch your back. “Bending it all over me like a fucking dog in heat… pathetic.” He commented, gripping on your hips tighter.

Wanderer: The only kink you know Wanderer possesses by now is Bondage. He’s not into extreme bondage where you can’t do anything at all, but instead simple things like a single blindfold, or handcuffs or both. That doesn’t mean he’ll absolutely rail you when doing so, actually he’ll be pretty careful with your pleasure now that you’re extra vulnerable. What he likes on it is the control of the handcuffs and the privacy he gets from the blindfold. For example, whenever you or him want to try a new position, he’ll try to ask you to wear a blindfold because he doesn’t want you to see him trying something new at all. He’s afraid he’s terrible at whatever you or him ask for.

“Is it too tight?” He asks you gently, after finishing the knot on the blindfold, with his head in your shoulders. “Alright then… may I start?” He asks, gripping on your wrists even if they were already handcuffed.

L - Location (Where do they most like to do it? And why?)

Scaramouche: Honestly… anywhere. Scaramouche doesn’t really care whether the door is open or closed or if it’s cold or hot outside. He’d do it in Tsaritsa’s bed if he had the chance. He usually prefers places where you can be heard or seen tho. He likes to make it clear to everyone that you are his.

“So what if the door is open? I’d let them see if I was you! Then they’d all know they have no chance with you because all that would go through your mind would be me topping you like this, and my cock making your insides mush.” Scaramouche joked while fucking you from behind in a restaurant’s public bathroom.

Wanderer: Anywhere that is private. Wanderer doesn’t want to be seen at all and especially… doesn’t anyone to see you. He’s very reserved about hisself but if anyone saw you in such an erotic state, blindfolded, handcuffed… he would probably threaten the person’s life. So, he’ll always makes sure nobody’s around, the door is locked and the windows are closed. But especially… he’d make sure Nahida wasn’t nearby.

“Don’t be so impatient. It would be irresponsible of me to leave the windows open.” Wanderer said while closing the windows in his room, pretty annoyed at your petty impatience to have sex with him.

M - Motivation (What makes them keep doing it with you?)

Scaramouche: Your persistence. Scaramouche really likes how you attract him into sex and how you fuck with him. You always bring different “challenges” to him, whispering in his ears and wearing lingeries under your uniform, which already turns him on instantly. But, since you usually lose the challenges, especially the ones you did, it makes him like the experiences even more. After the first time you two did it, where you lost, Scaramouche thought you’d never ask him for it again. But you did, and he was very surprised (in a good way). You turned a switch you can’t turn off. And now, he’ll constantly challenge you in bed.

“You really wanna challenge me into who’s cumming first again? Even if all the times you’ve done that were a victory for me? Ha… I wonder whether you’re challenging me or yourself.” He teased, already turned on, as he walked closer to you undoing his pants.

Wanderer: His love for you doesn’t only make him keep having sex with you but also makes him keep living. The care that you have for him didn’t seem to change even if you didn’t know his past self anymore. That makes him feel he won’t be betrayed romantically even if you’re a social butterfly. But… since you’re a human, it means that you’ll have to go one day (more known as “betray” in his head). So he wants to enjoy every second of you, the same way he wants you to enjoy every second of him. The way that you reassure him of his insecurities and traumas naturally just gives him too much pleasure, sexually or not.

“Say that again…” He whimpered in your ear desperately after you moaned that you loved his sex meanwhile he fucked you from behind. The way he moaned after you repeated it, this time with an “I love you”, was animalistic. “Oh god… say that again… just keep saying that…” He begged while accelerating his pace, too embarrassed to tell you he loves you back.

N - No (What are things they would never do while having sex? And why?)

Scaramouche: Scaramouche thought he didn’t have any no’s in sex until the day you joked about calling him Kabukimono during it. He laughed at first but soon realized he actually hated that idea and kinda got mad at you for suggesting something so disgusting like that. It just felt wrong to have you calling him a nickname that came from people that had all betrayed him one day. His mother, his best friend and a sick kid? No. Just no. His name is Scaramouche and his title is The Balladeer. That’s all you can name him as.

“You only realized that what you said about calling me by my past name, given to me by worthless people, was terrible now?” Scaramouche asked angrily but also jokingly, avoiding eye contact like you were truly disgusting. You really didn’t know that those names were that triggering to him and genuinely felt bad for him.

Wanderer: Wanderer has many more no’s compared to his past self and you. But aside from his past wishes he’s and the obvious no’s, his weirdest no in sex is you riding him. He just can’t feel comfortable in that position at all. You are the one who locks his hands against the bed, settle a rhythm for him to follow and especially, see him in such a vulnerable state. He has been through so much humiliation and manipulation in his life that he really wants to stay far from anything that gives him the slightest feeling of being used. And that position gives him that same feeling.

“N-No..! I don’t like this! Please stop..!” He asked desperately out of nowhere. You stopped riding him immediately and quit the position in a second, trying to comfort him and understand what was going on. It was the first time you two were trying that position and you were going very slow. “I-I’m sorry, I just… don’t like to see myself in this position...” He explained, completely embarrassed for ruining the moment and gasping for air.

O - Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

Scaramouche: Giving. Scaramouche loves to see you crumbling from above him while he’s giving you a cunnilingus. And trust me, he is good at it. He’ll do it until your legs are trembling, trying their best to smash his head further inside you, until all you can mutter are moans and pleads for him to either fuck you or go faster. Even if he’s not a huge fan of your hands gripping on his hair for dear life, he likes the fact that it basically means you are feeling the agony of being touched in such a sensible spot.

“I know, I know… but I’m having so much fun toying you here that I just… don’t wanna leave. Not until I’m satisfied.” Scara said between licks and breathes on your sensible clit. He continued to mouth you everywhere for barely an hour without breaking eye contact. Not even for a mere second.

Wanderer: Receiving. Wanderer is indeed a very reserved guy, that’s why you were so surprised to him like oral sex that much when you two first tried it. He was trying his best to not grip your hair too hard, to swallow his moans in, but it was too much for him. To have you kneeling at his front, sucking him so passionately and obediently was just too perfect for him. He felt such a huge feeling of power and privacy that made him fall in love with it. He never asks for it tho, because it is indeed a very embarrassing position for him.

“I-I’m sorry… I can’t hold it… this is too good…” He said between deep breathes, whimpers and moans as he gripped on your head tight to make you suck him faster. He was against a wall, barely managing to stand up. His other hand was trying its best to not grip on your head as well, scratching the wall for dear life.

P - Pace (Are they quick or slow? Rough or gentle?)

Scaramouche: It depends on what are you or him trying to do exactly. If he wants to edge you, he’ll go as rough as possible but torturously slow. If he wants you to cum faster than him, he’ll go as quick and rough as possible. He’s never going to be gentle to you, even if it’s supposed to be a more romantic sex.

“You like it here, yeah? Then I’ll fuck you right here until you’re brainless…” He commented, completely lustful for you and the moment as he roughly and slowly thrusted you all the way to your cervix, making you scream at each thrust.

Wanderer: He’ll most likely going to be slow and gentle most of the times. He wants this kind of moment to last as much as it can so both of you savor each other as much as you can, remember the feeling of doing that with each other and long to savor it again. He’ll never be rough with you, not at Scaramouche’s level. He’ll maybe go quick at you depending on the situation but usually he’ll just accelerate when you or him are close to climaxing.

“Faster..?” He asked, almost sounding like a husky whimper, when you whispered the command. “I will, my love… I will…” He said a little louder as he gripped and pushed your wrists harder in the bed and begun accelerating.

Q - Quickies (What do they think of quickies?)

Scaramouche: No matter where you two are, he’ll always ask for it when he finds the opportunity to have sex. A third person in the room said they’d go to the bathroom because they’re not feeling well and think they’ll vomit? He’ll not let you go help, instead, he’ll give you oral sex. Even if you two are caught he’ll most likely not going to stop. Why would he? It’s free porn for whoever is watching anyway… and he’ll obviously be more obvious about it if the environment is private.

“This is a nice kitchen, isn’t it?” He asked playfully as soon as the last maid left the scene and closed the door behind you two. “The maids’ lunch last around 30 minutes… do you know what can we do in these 30 minutes?” He asked, stepping closer to you with a smirk forming in his face. “Hint: it’s something I’ve been longing for a while now…” He said, finally pinching your chin and pulling you for a hot kiss.

Wanderer: Wanderer is actually a big hater of quickies and will only do it if you want it, there’s time for an orgasm and no possible intruders. For example, morning sex. If he’s the one that wants it, he’ll just hold it until it’s safe and nighttime. He thinks quickies ruin the entire meaning of sex. The closure, intimacy, love and lust is barely existent when the intent of it is being quick.

“Are you sure..? You have many work to do today, I don’t want you to be late.” He asked you, his mouth centimeters away from yours as he held your hips gracefully. You slowly pulled him with you to the bed behind you as you said “yes”. “Are you really, really sure..?” He asked you again, and you finally convinced him that you wanted it.

R - Risks (How far are they willing to risk?)

Scaramouche: He’ll risk whatever goes through his or your mind. Public sex? Yes. Elemental Reactions during sex? Yes. Upside down sex? Yes. Sex inside Shouki no Kami? Sounds fun. He’s going to risk everything possible aside from his single no and your no’s if you even some.

“What about… a good old missionary at night, in the Anemo Archon’s statue? In the hands more specifically.” He asked as he stared at the statue with you. You had a mission to investigate the location of the Anemo Gnosis but he insisted on going with you since he had nothing to do.

Wanderer: Barely anything. All that he’s willing to try new fetishes and positions but it has to be in a extremely private scenario. Anything that is public or dangerous to your health will be instantly denied by him.

“Are you serious?” Asked Wanderer after you suggested having sex in the snow of Snezhnaya’s high mountains. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want you to freeze to death because of a weird fetish. Here, just put this on and let’s continue.” He denied, giving you his hat in order to try warning you up better, insecure about your state.

S - Stamina (How far can they go?)

Since they’re the same person, they both have the answer, which is: days. They’re puppets, they were made to last way longer than a normal human being. Both of them could go as far as they wished to, but they know you are a mere human that can barely last a round. So they just decide to go until your limit.

T - Toys (Do they use toys? Which ones?)

Scaramouche: Personally, Scaramouche doesn’t really like to use toys. He likes natural sex, so that he can control you the way he wants to and show you how no one is better than him. And if there was a dildo shoved inside you rather than his actual dick, it’d make you feel better, and believe it or not, that thought actually makes him feel a little insecure. He also owns a plastic dick, so why don’t you feel better with his? So he decided to throw them away. But don’t you think it’s over! He owns a Vision and Illusion and he makes sure to use them greatly against you when he feels like it. So prepare to have your pussy zapped when receiving a cunnilingus…

“Harder..? How hard do you want it, huh? Like this?” He asked you jokingly before slightly zapping your clit using his fingers. “Ha… you actually seem to like this, don’t you..?” Scaramouche asked with a curious smirk before continuing moving his hand in and out of your pussy. But now with sudden zaps with no rythym to catch up on, making you have a pretty messy, electrical orgasm.

Wanderer: Since Wanderer like to have you using handcuffs and blindfolds, he can’t really say that he doesn’t like using toys. But he doesn’t feel like using any other toys rather than these two. Even after going through a rough existential crisis, he somehow still feels insecure about vibrators…

“These look so pretty in you, my love…” Wanderer complimented, gently caressing your wrists that had just been handcuffed with your newest pair of red handcuffs.

U - Unfair (How unfair and teasing are they with you?)

Scaramouche: Just like mentioned in G section, Scaramouche will always try to make the situation unfair to you. He’ll put you in difficult positions and situations, tease you both mentally and physically in search of full control of you and go silent to make you feel dirty by yourself. Even after sex he’ll mess with you! He wants you to go home with the thoughts of him. And it works, because no matter how unfair he is with you, you still play your part in his little game.

“The more you complain and beg, the more I’ll remain here.” Scaramouche threatened as he fingered you robotically, making you go nuts with such effortless thrusts.

Wanderer: The only unfair thing Wanderer might do in sex is taking his clothes off way after he took yours off. After that he’s an absolute angel. Why? Because he just wants to live a common human life, and you letting him have the experience of a romantic relationship and sex makes it so much better and real to his eyes. He’ll spend the rest of your days cherishing you.

“Sorry… I’ll take my clothes off now…” Wanderer said embarrassed at having you asking him that. But you two were making out for some good minutes by now and only you were naked for no reason.

V - Volume (How high are they? And what sounds do they make?)

Scaramouche: A stressed guy like Scaramouche barely makes any sound during sex at all. Initially, it was just because you two weren’t intimate, but it quickly became his thing. He wanted not only to hear all of you, but wanted you to hear yourself, moaning and whining so dirtily and desperately for the amount of pleasure he gave you. He’d be extra silent if you two could be heard or seen by a possible intruder having sex in a risky area. But he can go fully silent, and he does if he was doing it not on his mood, for example, if you challenged him in a time where he wasn’t longing for you. He’d be smirking the entire time, hearing you spill it all out while he was as quiet as a rock. But when he’s feeling pleasure, he’ll hiss a lot and groan shortly with his mouth closed most of the times.

“Are you trying to get attention, huh? Making so much noise over so little… I can’t wait to hear how high you’ll be screaming when I cum inside you.” Scaramouche whispered in your ear, trying his best to not let out a single moan, even if he was feeling as much pleasure as you.

Wanderer: Wanderer is also a pretty quiet boy when having sex, but this time is because he still doesn’t know how to express his pleasure. He feels so embarrassed and dirty making that kind of noise, afraid that you’d find him perverted or anything. It’s an irrational insecurity, he knows. You would moan and scream until all the air inside your lungs was gone and he wouldn’t think you were perverted like he thought it would happen to him. But he is slowly letting himself be more and more louder with you by slightly moaning in your ears and breathing hard.

“You only keep tightening around me…” Wanderer commented between low groans and pants, trying to not make too much noise. “I want more…” He confessed, pushing you and him to the corner of the table to have a better angle to thrust you deep.

W - Wild Card (A random headcannon)

Scaramouche: He really likes kimonos. Since he’s from Inazuma, he was grown in a culture where kimonos are top fashion. That’s why his own uniform was designed with both Snezhnayan and Inazuman fashion. But during a mission assigned to you two in Inazuma of spying on the Shogun, the date coincidentally fell on a traditional Inazuman festival which you two decided to participate in search of the Shogun’s presence. But he totally forgot that during this day, the participants were supposed to wear kimonos to fit in, and oh… my… god. He couldn’t stop staring at you. He thought you looked beautiful in one but because of your relationship with him, it also made him feel turned on. He pulled to the first corner he saw and gave you a leg-shivering oral.

“You’re so lucky… that this dress is rented… or else I would be fucking you to oblivion in it right now… and ripping it apart after cumming all around it…” He teased between licks and breathes on your warm pussy he was eating.

Wanderer: Wanderer has a weird curiosity on the female human body and always likes to stare you at you like a piece of art whenever he’s seeing you naked. He thinks it’s so smaller than a male’s… but the curves and shape are so much prettier… he can’t describe it at all. But he really likes to stare at your anatomy while doing it with him or sleeping with him after it. And oh if you dare to try putting your clothes on after it.

“No, no. Stay right here. We have a blanket for that.” Wanderer said, pulling you through your wrist back to the bed, covering your body with your blanket afterwards. He waited until you were asleep to begin touching a piece of a hair while he looked at you up and down repeatedly.

X - X-Ray (How big are they?)

Since they’re the same person and puppet, both of them share the same answer: average sized. Even if Ei did put a dick in his body during his creation, she was no pervert and made it sized enough for an average vagina. He also cannot change its size or thickness, but he wish he could adjust to the perfect size to fill you all up with each thrust just he can adjust his neck and arms…

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Scaramouche: It is obviously pretty high, but he will never tell you that. He gets turned on with almost everything that you do. Your voice, body, manners, clothes… but he only shows his thirst for you when either you or him challenge each other in bed. The feeling of challenging or being challenged excites him a lot, and you know that he never resists when you whisper one in his ear. You’re still the one that takes most initiative in sex tho, but Scaramouche is probably going to take lead in that as well soon.

“You know just how to make me fuck you, don’t you?” Scaramouche asked, turning his face to you with a lusty smirk in his face. He was sat down at a chair in his office and you were whispering naughty thoughts right in his ear. You were asking for lose your ability to walk.

Wanderer: His sex drive is pretty average. He doesn’t get turned on with absolutely everything but still can feel amused with common daily things such as leaning your back to reach something that feel in the floor and jealously. Still, you’re definitely the one that takes most initiative in sex, to either make it or try something new.

“Can we… you know…” Wanderer whispered in your ear very lowly, completely out of nowhere and unable to finish the sentence. You two were simply about to sleep in a spooning position again. “Can we have sex..?” He finally said it, making the situation unnecessarily tense and sexual.

Z - Zzz… (How long does it take for them to sleep after it?)

Scaramouche: You two don’t usually do it in nighttime, which naturally decreases the amounts of nights you have him sleeping with you, but even when it is, he’ll most likely wait for you to sleep in his arms and leave the scene quietly after some long minutes or hours. He’s a puppet, he doesn’t need to sleep. But the more you two explore and discover more about each other, the more he feels like letting himself get a bit of a rest after it by your side, hugging you like a squid using its tentacles. Don’t blame him, nightmares torment most of the nights he decides to sleep.

Wanderer: A few minutes. Wanderer doesn’t need to sleep as well, but he usually feels so in-love and thankful for you after a hot, lusty and tiring night of sex that he allows himself to relax and enjoy the beauty of the woman in front of him until he finally decided to close his eyes. And when he does, he’ll hug you very tight just like Scaramouche would and put your head under his for the instinct of protecting you from this cruel world. Plus, when he realized that he never had a single nightmare when sleeping with you, he stopped sneaking out and leaving the scene after you fall asleep, no matter how much he needs to do something outside the bed. He’ll reciprocate the comfort you give him every day.

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[noahsmuse]

adore you

✮ PAIRING: noah sebastian x reader

✮ SUMMARY: headcannons about how i think being in a relationship with noah would be like!!

୨୧ he’s a gentlemen first and foremost!!!! he holds your shopping bags, will literally RUN in front of you just so he can hold the door for you, pulls your seat out in restaurants and opens the car door for you when your getting inside and out of the car

୨୧ he notices everything new about you, did you re-dye that one part of your hair? he knew it immediately. he’s a very observant guy and always compliments how you look, saying that your hair, makeup, outfit etc. looks amazing especially if he can tell if your experimenting with new looks and products

୨୧ he remembers EVERYTHING about you, no matter whether good or bad. just like how he’ll poke fun at you whenever you trip over your own feet and claims you need to be wrapped up in bubble wrap. BUT he does remember things like what you usually order at different restaurants, what your favorite kind of drink is and exactly how you like it

୨୧ doing fashion shows for him after you get mail or come back from the mall!!!!! as soon as you’d walk through the door with your new clothes, he’s SAT. and ready for you to try on your new wardrobe, he thinks you look great in everything and is a VERY good hype-man

୨୧ since he’s off social media & doesn’t have his own, he makes it a point to follow you from the band account and also likes every single new post you make, sometimes will even leave silly little comments in relation to whatever you just posted….he’s REALLY down bad for you

-> because of the new found fame for the band and since he deleted his social media accounts, he 100% has a private instagram where he only follows you, the band & crew and some of his other close friends. he posts SO many photos of you and puts some on his story almost everyday, you also had to help him learn how to take good instagram photos. (he’s so proud whenever you actually post one of the photos he took)

୨୧ while him & the band create new music for their new albums, he absolutely loves it when you just sit in there with him. you don’t have to do a single thing but just sit there, he does like to hear your opinion on what you think about the new songs and if anything needs to be changed. sometimes you’re even part of the album, he mixes in your laughs and sometimes even your moans into the songs

୨୧ when he gets invited to/buys tickets concerts, you’re always the very first person that he asks if you wanna come with him (especially if he knows that a band or artist you both like is playing), and obviously you do?!?!

-> whenever you both are around big crowds, he’s got his hand on your back or holding your hand, guiding you through the big groups of people

୨୧ he loves to go on small little vacations/getaways in the little bit of time that he has off from touring and making music!!!!! especially because of how much time the both of you would be spending together, making memories and exploring somewhere new :)

୨୧ even though you’re more than welcome to steal any of his hoodies, he always saves you a hoodie/shirt from the online drops. and when you visit them on tour, you just HAVE to get a shirt from each tour (more than half of your entire closet is probably bad omens merch at this point)

-> and of course he loves when you style bad omens merch to match what you wear everyday, he also eventually lets you become one of the models for online merch drops (with some photos of you together which makes the fans go CRAZY)

୨୧ for arguments, i don’t think that you both would have very often. since the both of you have learned that if you sit down and have a genuine conversation about what things/topics that could cause conflicts can avoid those heated arguments

୨୧ the days when he gets back from tour, usually you both just order something or sometimes make a meal to eat with him and he LOVES to just lay down, share a blanket and cuddle you after being gone for so long while watching an anime you both like ♡

[hugshughes]

IM LITERALLY LIKE GOING CRAZY WAITING FOR U TO POST HARD LAUNCH LIKE GOING FERAL

Hard Launch C. Bedard.

Connor Bedard x fem!reader

synopsis - Connor has kept your relationship under wraps for a while just because he knows how crazy people can be; what happens when he knows he needs you right next to him at the draft?

wc - 2.1k

contains - cursing, reader has anxiety/is anxious, Connor picks at the skin around his nails, a ciwyw by taylor swift reference (sorry), probably some inaccuracies when it comes to like how the draft goes, kissing, fluff.

an - this was supposed to be posted a few days ago but when i proofread it i absolutely hated it so i started over! sorry about the inaccuracies related to the draft and how it works, i had to put a few things that probably aren’t true for the sake of the story. also!! when i reply to comments i have to do it from my primary blog which is @hugshughesy so i’ll reply but it won’t say like creator i don’t think. i’ve been like rereading this and i hate it might delete soon feeling silly. i hope you guys like it!!

-

“Baby, you have to stop doing that.”

You grab Connor’s hand and slip it into yours, partially because you just love him, and mostly to get him to stop picking at his cuticles. He blushes at your concern, looking over at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, just nervous.” You nodded, laying your head on his shoulder. He and you both. Although, Connor probably had a little more to be nervous about than you, seeing as he’s gonna be the #1 draft pick tonight and be blasted on the tv screens of millions.

You were more nervous about the fact that you’d never been seen with Connor before, no one knew he was off the market, and when they saw his golden girl sitting by him tonight at the draft, the 14 year old girls were definitely gonna track you down like FBI agents.

You’d seen all the fan accounts, ones with bios that would read, “Connor’s girlfriend (real)”. And those made you laugh, but you also saw the hostile people that would threaten you and say terrible things and they didn’t even know you actually existed.

“Well, everything will be okay because one, we already obviously know you’re gonna go #1 because you’re just like the best. And two, your family is here, and your friends are here. And they all love you so so much Connie.”

“What about my girlfriend, y’think she loves me?”

You giggled at his question, furrowing your eyebrows and letting out a ‘hmmmm’ as if you were thinking about the answer.

“Actually, I think she loves you the more than anything else.”

Connor laughed now, wrapping his arm around your waist, which you initially accepted as an act of love, but then your boyfriend start tasing your sides.

You squirm and squeal, jerking around in Connor’s hold, not until you quite literally roll yourself off the hotel bed are you free. You look up at him from your place on the floor, an unamused look displayed on your face. While Connor’s expression is quite the opposite, as he giggles to himself.

“I tell you how much I love you, and you just throw me on the floor? Wow.”

He laughs louder at this, his bright smile melting your heart.

“I didn’t throw you on the floor, you did that to yourself.”

He holds his arms out for you, grabbing your hands and pulling you back up on the bed.

“Well, you still haven’t even told me you love me back so.”

“You know I love you the most. I know you know that.”

You do know that, as surprising as it would be to someone that’s seen his awkwardness and shortness in interviews and things like that, Connor is very expressive with his love for you. He always shows you how grateful he is for you.

“Connor! Gotta start getting ready soon, cameras will be in here in 30!”

His mom shouts from the adjoining door between the two hotel rooms his family was currently in. He shouts back an affirmative then sighs, laying back on the bed.

“Everything’s gonna go perfect Con, you’re completely surrounded by people who love you so much, and I know it’s a huge event, but there’s no need to be nervous baby.”

He looks at you, he practically has hearts in his eyes, he gives you a smile. He nods and sits up, standing to go grab his garment bag with his suit.

While he went to do that you went into the bathroom, making sure he didn’t mess up your makeup you’d just done messing around with you. It was still perfect, thankfully, and you closed the door to put your dress on.

You changed, then fixed your hair, you’d gotten it done a few days before, so you could do it quickly on draft day.

You touch up everything, lastly taking off your necklace with a gold heart as the charm and taking out your new gold ‘C’ necklace. Wearing his initial meant more than “belonging” to him, it was because he’s your boy, the boy who knows you.

Connor walked into the bathroom, suit pants and button up on. He practically had hearts in his eyes when he saw you. He wraps his arms around your hips and leans down to lay his chin on your shoulder.

“Wow, gorgeous. You look fuckin’ perfect.”

You feel heat envelop your face, giving Connor a big smile.

“I have a little something to show you. Nothing special, but I think you’ll like it.

He nods, looking at you expectedly. You show him the necklace, and the hearts in his eyes double in size. He looks from the necklace to you, and then back down again.

“Are you serious?”

The hope in Connor’s voice was apparent. He was in awe at the idea of you wearing his initial. You knowing and showing your love for him gets him so happy. When you nod at him, his smile grows. He helps you put it on, then turns you around to look at you.

You looked perfect, so, so gorgeous. You left the bathroom, sitting on the bed to put your heels on. The Bedard family minus Connor was in the other room now, talking. You fastened the buckle on your last heel, and Connie sits next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Everything’s gonna change after tonight, can feel it.”

Connor whispers to you, you can’t be much comfort to him though because the second you’re about to try, his mom comes through, letting him know the camera guys are here.

He sighs and nods, going to stand up but not before you kiss his head, giving his hand a squeeze. You stayed where you were as you watched Connor enter the other room, closing the door behind him. He knew you were already on edge and he didn’t want your anxiety to spike earlier than it had to.

After about 20 minutes Madisen texts you that it’s time for everyone to go. You grab your wallet and exit the room, seeing the Bedards and a few off-duty cameramen already in the hallway. Connor’s hand was gripping yours the whole way to Bridgestone.

You guys were finally in your seats after almost an hour. You were sat in between Connor and his mom, much to your dismay. You felt it was only right for Connor to sit by his family with you on the end but he whined and whined until his mom urged you to sit next to him.

Right now you knew there were many cameras on you, your leg bounced at the thought. Connor brushed his hand over your knee, whispering your name. You snap out of your thoughts, jerking your head towards him.

“Are you alright baby?”

Your eyes soften at his question, smiling and nodding at him. You pat your hand on his that covers your knee.

“Y’know, just a little nervous that everyone’s about to see that you’re my mega-hot boyfriend.”

He laughs at that, his grip on your knee tightening. Your free hand moves to the charm on your necklace, holding it tightly.

“Well, I think everyone’s gonna be confused about how I have such a hot girlfriend.”

It was your turn to laugh, you could feel the nerves prickling at the back of your neck slightly fade as you looked at your boy.

“Well, I think that number one draft picks are super hot, so.”

He looks at you with a big smile, his eyes soft and full of adoration, he brings his hand up and pushes your hand from your necklace, fingers brushing over the ‘C’ sitting on your chest.

Before you know it, the draft begins to start and the Blackhawks are on the clock. You and Connor’s legs are bouncing in sync, but you can’t help but look at him with a smile. It obviously doesn’t take long before Kyle Davidson is up at the podium.

“And with the first overall selection of the 2023 NHL draft, the Chicago Blackhawks are very proud to select, from the Regina Pats of the Western Hockey League, Connor Bedard.”

He smiles so bright, so big. He stands up and you follow, he engulfs you in a huge hug.

“Thank you so much, I love you so much.”

You say it right back to him before he moves to hug the rest of his family and friends. When he walks past you again to get out to the aisle he takes you by complete surprise, kissing you in front of everyone. That was quite the way to hard launch your relationship. He quickly pulls away and goes to bro hug Adam. Your eyes completely widen, quickly turning your head to look at Madisen, who is laughing at your shock, and her brother’s boldness.

You would’ve never expected Connor to do that, you’re guessing the adrenaline got to him, but wow. You recovered from your moment and clapped as you watched your boyfriend strut up to the stage, shaking hands with the Blackhawks staff and sliding on his jersey.

You hold his mom’s hand as you feel tears rushing your waterline. You’d known Connor since you were both 10 and watching him up on the stage was definitely overwhelming.

You guys sit and celebrate the other picks and after about an hour you all were out somewhere on the inside of Bridgestone arena, waiting for Connor to finish up promotional stuff.

He comes out from a hallway and the smile on his face is absolutely heart melting. He hugs his family before he makes his way to you, hugging you very tightly.

“Connor Bedard. What was that?”

He smiles proudly, kissing you once again, just longer and harder. Once he pulls away you’re dazed, a love-struck look in your eyes, and if you could, you would have hearts in your eyes.

“I don’t even know, just felt like kissin’ you, and I think I was on like an adrenaline rush or something.”

You laughed and nodded at him with an amused look, cupping his face with your hands. His family absolutely loved you two, they had been waiting for the day you guys admitted you liked each other since the 2018 8th-grade dance.

They saw how you brought Connor out of his shell, and how incredibly happy you made him. You declared where you would be attending college the night of the draft lottery, for no apparent reason of course. The University of Chicago was a school you were always interested in, but Connor in Chicago meant that much more to you.

After hours of hanging out and celebrating you guys were finally back at the hotel. You showered after Connor finished up and then after you were standing at the sink, pajamas on as you did your skincare.

For the second time that day, Connor came into the bathroom, wrapping his arms around you. You looked at him through the mirror, smiling softly. Connor looked at you and saw everything he wanted. He felt so excited to be able to have you with him in the Windy City. He knew he was only 17, but thoughts of you being his wife crossed his mind.

You finished up in the bathroom and you both went back out to the room, the door between the two rooms you had was ajar, allowing his parents to keep watch of you two if they needed to. They trusted you both deeply, but you were still two teenagers sharing a bed, so.

You both snuggled up on your bed, and you scrolled through Twitter and Tiktok looking at things about the draft and Connor and your relationship. You had become a small meme among the hockey girl fandom, the video of Connor kissing you and then your reaction going viral.

There were so so so many kind comments, commenting on your beauty and smile, and how happy you made Connor look. He was very happy with how the night went, which made you happy obviously.

You both eventually fell asleep, only after whispering for hours about how everything is gonna be in Chicago, how much fun you think it’ll be. You played with Connor’s hair while his breathing slowed, his grip around you tightening.

You knew that no matter where Connor went, you would go too as long as he wanted you there. And he always would want you there. You were everything to him, you and hockey were what kept him going.

[heavyhitterheaux]

U-Turn

Gif by @harlowgifs 💕

Synopsis: It's been six months since Scalvo broke up with you, and you’re doing your best to function without him. But when your safety is compromised, he is forced to step back into your life, and hopefully, this time, it will be for good

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Scalvo x ex-girlfriend!reader

Read Part 1 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was close to four in the morning and you hadn't been to sleep yet. The thoughts in your mind were racing a mile and minute and it didn't seem as if they were stopping any time soon. You scrolled through the gallery on your phone that contained pictures of you and Scalvo. You knew at this point that you should have deleted them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You fucking missed him.

It had been a few months since he had broken up with you and you were still obviously hurting. You tried to call him the next day after you confronted him about what he had done all to find out that the number wasn't in service anymore. You found yourself not going into the bakery anymore, but just casually visiting different shops along the same street hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Besides, it was clear that Mr. Besegai wasn't a fan of you.

The crying didn't occur as much anymore and you found yourself trying to do anything that could serve as a distraction from the reality of it all. But the bottom line was that you missed him and wanted him back despite what he may have done.

This was supposed to be your week of vacation from your job, but all you had been doing was laying in bed most of the time. 

After everything went down and you had found out about what Scalvo and Cobby did, you weren't sure how to feel. Yes, you were upset at him obviously. But, you could understand why he did it. You weren't making excuses for him in any way, shape, or form but you couldn't imagine a life without your parents.

Your father had the safe replaced and moved it to a safer location, a bank in the middle of the city. Scalvo must have said something to Cobby because a few days after you confronted him, the bracelet mysteriously ended up back at your parents house with your mother finding it in the mailbox. Your father had never said this outloud, but deep down you had a feeling that he knew it was Scalvo. But because he wanted to spare your feelings, he probably didn't want to say anything to you about it. He knew that you had taken the break up hard and still was.

Not wanting to lay there any longer, you decided to get up and get ready to go to the gym in the hopes that it wouldn't be as crowded. After you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, you went into your closet to find a sports bra and a pair of workout shorts to match. You decided on a coral pink matching set from fabletics before you grabbed your black hoodie and slipped on your shoes.

As you made your way downstairs to the parking garage with your phone, car keys, and air pods, you felt uneasy. You couldn't exactly pinpoint why you felt that way, but you turned around to see that there was no one behind you so you shrugged it off.

Unlocking your car, you went to grab the driver's door handle when someone had come up behind you and put a hand over your mouth. Your first reaction was to begin screaming, but that instantly came to a stop when you heard a voice. 

“Shh! Don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you.” You turned around to come face to face with Cobby and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“What could you possibly want?” You asked him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, I deserve that. I get it. But sorry about that entire thing with your dad. Scalvo was like you're never going to forgive him, but I was like "but at least you didn't kill her dad so that has to count for something, right? I think I took your break up the hardest out of anyone.”

“Cobby, you talk way too much because you should have gotten to the point already. Why are you here?” You asked him as you slipped your air pod case in your front pocket.

“Oh, right! Totally forgot. You know Scalvo tells me the same thing that I talk too much, but…”

“COBBY!”

“Sorry. Scalvo sent me.”

“Why? We aren't together anymore and we haven't talked in literal months.”

“I know and I feel terrible about that. He was actually nicer when he was dating you believe it or not. He only threatened to shoot me a few times and it would usually be a lot more.”

“Cobby, PLEASE GET TO THE POINT.” You tried not to yell at him, but it came out anyway.

“Hey, no yelling. I'm sensitive. Oh, I remember now. Someone is after you so Scalvo sent me to come and get you.”

“After me for what? And why should I believe you?” You questioned him, because at this point you didn't know what to believe.

“Scalvo has pissed a lot of people off lately and they know about you. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you in order to get to him. And why should you believe me? You are the only person in this universe that Scalvo actually gives a damn about. So if you’ll just come with me, we'll be on our way.” He told you as he was trying to lead you to his motorcycle.

“I am not getting on that death trap and why didn't he come and get me himself if he cares about me so much?”

“Too dangerous.”

“The motorcycle or him coming to get me? And is that a breathalyzer!?”

“Oh yeah to all of that but um, do you mind blowing in it so we can leave?”

“COBBY! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“What!? We won't be able to move!”

“How did you even get here in the first place!?”

“I woke up my kid and made him do it.”

“I need to go back to my apartment for a minute.”

“No the fuck you don't. Excuse my French, but they have been watching you for weeks. Blow into this so we can leave.”

“If you're drunk, you are not driving me anywhere.”

“Y/N! Now is not the time! I have to get you to a safe place! Do you want to argue with me or get kidnapped? I see why you two were together, it's like I'm arguing with Scalvo junior.”

“You need to wipe that thing off before I put it anywhere near my mouth.”

“Ha! That's what she said.”

All you did was look at him and roll your eyes before you walked back to your car in order to get some disinfectant wipes to clean it off. Once you did and blew into it, his motorcycle unlocked.

“Perfect! Here, hop on and put this on.” He told you as he handed you his helmet.

“Do you honestly think my hair will fit in here?” You asked and he just stared at you.

“Look, if I bring you to Scalvo with even a SCRATCH on you, he will have my fucking ass. Just put it on.”

“Fine.” You muttered as you slipped it on over your thick and fluffy curly hair.

The two of you set off into the streets of Boston in the early hours as the world around you was still sleeping.

You didn't know how to feel about seeing Scalvo again. Obviously you missed him, but did he miss you? Well, the answer had to be yes seeing that he felt as if your life was in danger and he was going to do anything in his power to protect you. That's how he was when the two of you were together so you figured that nothing had changed. 

Out of nowhere, Cobby had slowed down and pulled into a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and you looked at him confused once he got off the bike.

“Uh? Is the secret hideout a Dunkin Donuts? Why are we here?”

“We're here because I'm hungry. You want anything?

“No. Should we really be making stops? This seems a little too out in the open.”

“It's fine. I'll be two minutes.”

You nodded your head to Cobby as he disappeared inside of the store. In that time, you had taken off the helmet and it was resting in front of you as you played on your phone to keep yourself occupied while waiting for him.

Suddenly you felt the barrel of the gun at the back of your head and knew that whoever was after you to begin with had found you.

“If you scream, I will blow your fucking brains out across this entire parking lot. Get off the motorcycle and follow me. If you try to run, I'll shoot.” 

You didn't recognize the voice, but you did as you were told as you held your hands up. Your air pods were still in your pocket as you left your phone on the seat of the motorcycle hoping that Cobby would know that he could track you. If not, Scalvo would know to pick up on it. Now would be the perfect time for Cobby to make an appearance, but he wasn't even looking in your direction.

Fuck.

Once you came face to face with the man, you knew you had seen him before but wasn't quite sure where. He led you to his car and as he was putting you in the back of it, Cobby was leaving the store and immediately ran to the car hoping to get to you in time.

“Fuck! Y/N!”

But it was too late as the car then took off. Cobby memorized the license plate number in the hopes that it would help him to track you down. 

But first things first.

He had to tell Scalvo that they had you.

And knew that he wasn't about to hear the end of it.

As Cobby let himself into the warehouse where he and Scalvo were hiding out, he climbed the steps to see Scalvo playing some video game. He heard him approaching and quickly pressed pause, but he already knew that something was wrong because he only heard one set of footsteps. He turned around to see Cobby alone which left him genuinely confused.

Even though you hadn’t seen Scalvo in these six months that had passed, he had seen you. He always made sure to check on you from a distance to make sure that you were okay and that no harm would come to you. He knew that because of what he did to Don, that more than likely it would put you in danger after he had seen him outside of your job. Scalvo made sure that he didn’t notice him, but his eyes never left sight of you. That was when Scalvo knew that you had become a target and was going to make sure that nothing happened to you because of the decisions that he decided to make. 

“Sooo…..”

“Where's Y/N? You told me that you had her.” He asked as he looked behind Cobby to see that no one had followed in behind him.

“Um yeah, so about that….” Cobby started to say while scratching the back of his neck.

All Scalvo did was take a deep breath before saying anything.

“Cobby, you have three fucking seconds. Where is my girl?” 

“Okay, I picked her up, scared the shit out of her by the way, went to Dunkin Donuts because I was hungry and I left her outside while I ran in and…”

Cobby didn't even get to finish his sentence before Scalvo’s hand was around his neck and had him pinned against the wall. His head hitting it with a thud.

“You fucking left her by herself when I told you to come straight back here?”

“Are you still in therapy? Because this right here doesn't really give me therapy vibes.”

“FUCK! COBBY I GAVE YOU ONE FUCKING JOB! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE DID IT MYSELF!”

“We can fix this! I have the license plate number and her phone. She had her air pods too and I’m guessing that she still does.”

“Just give it here so I can see if I can track her. You better pray that she's alive when we find her. Otherwise, I will literally shoot you.”

“I had a feeling that you were going to say that.”

“I just want for her to be okay, she needs to be okay. I can’t have her getting hurt because of me and what my job is.”

“Oh, the feelings are coming out again. Hey, you never answered my question, are you still in therapy or not? That has to be one of the best things to happen since you were in a relationship with Y/N. She looks great by the way, dyed her hair again to fire engine red.”

“I know because I saw it last week, but Cobby, please not now. It is taking everything in me not to throw you out of the window and yes, I’m still in therapy because I have to deal with your stupid ass.”

“I knew you had to be! Otherwise, I knew I probably would have been kissing concrete right now. Hey, I got an extra donut for you along with a breakfast sandwich. I was going to get you coffee until I realized that my motorcycle doesn't have a cup holder.” 

Scalvo glanced at him as he set everything in front of him as he had his laptop open and was trying to track where you might be. He also unlocked your iphone since he knew the passcode had been his birthday. Thank goodness you hadn’t changed it and seeing that it was still the same also tugged on his heartstrings.

He was making a promise to himself at this very moment.

When he got you back, because it wasn’t a matter of how, but since he knew that it was going to happen, if you were to give him another chance at being in a relationship with you, he didn’t plan on wasting it.

But then again, you really probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him at this point because of the situation that you were in.

Only thing he could think about is if you were hurt. If he found out that you were, he wouldn’t hesitate killing the person or people who had brought you harm. 

“Not hungry. Only thing I’m focused on is getting my girl back.”

“I love this for you, should we consider this your redemption arc in a way as it relates to her? I see the two of you getting back together, you need her in the worst way. Maybe you wouldn’t be so mad all the time if you got some pussy once in a while.”

“Cobby….”

“Shutting up now, I’ll be over here. Let me know when you find something. But she misses you and misses you bad. You should have seen her face when I told her that you had sent me to get her. So, that could be more motivation for you to find her.”

–

When you had gotten placed in the back of the car by a man you learned whose name was Rob, you were quickly blindfolded so there was no way that you would be able to tell where you were going and was praying that Scalvo came to save you.

All you did was focus on your breathing and trying to stay calm.

Once you felt the car come to a complete stop, the backseat door opened and you were roughly grabbed from the car and began walking inside of what you obviously knew to be a building.

Were you even still in Boston anymore?

The car had been driving for a long time, maybe an hour or two so at this point the answer was probably no.

Once you were placed in a chair and a rope was tied around your waist as well as your wrist and ankles, the blindfold finally came off.

At this point, you knew that screaming probably wouldn’t do you any good in this situation and the best thing for you to do was to remain calm and answer their questions as you saw fit. But that would be easy since you knew absolutely nothing. You hadn’t seen him or had contact with him in over six months and it felt that he honestly disappeared from your life and never existed to begin with. 

There were three different men standing in front of you as your eyes had adjusted to the light and the short fat man in the center was the first to speak.

“Hmm, Scalvo sure did get him a pretty one.” He told you as his hand lightly grazed your cheek making you flinch away from him.

Only Scalvo was allowed to do that.

When he didn’t receive an answer from you, he spoke up again.

“Cat got your tongue, or is it too early in the morning?” He asked you as all you did was stare straight ahead at him.

You were scared shitless, but you were for damn sure not about to let them see it. The moment that you did, you knew that they would be able to use it to their advantage.

“I see you don’t want to talk, but maybe if we introduce ourselves and get to know one another a little better it might make you more comfortable? I’m Don, that’s Rob over there who picked you up and brought you to me, and over there is Booch. And there’s no reason for you to tell us your name since we already know who you are, Y/N Lawson. Daughter of James and Scarlet Lawson. Only child. Graduate of University of Maryland College Park with a degree in forensics specializing in forensic nursing from a previous degree that you had gotten at Morgan State University’s nursing program. Who lives in an luxury apartment off of 33rd street with her cat named Mojito, goes to the gym at least five days a week, works at the hospital near the baseball stadium, drives a BMW that was a gift from her parents upon graduation and last but certainly not least, the girlfriend of our beloved Scalvo. The little fucker that had been a constant thorn in my side and my reason for these constant headaches as he and his friends stole my fucking money and also killed one of my guys who works for me. Now, we can do this the easy way, because I’m all about getting and having options or the hard way, the choice is up to you, sweetheart. Now I’ll let you go free and we can pretend like this never happened, as soon as you tell me where your boyfriend is and his dumbass sidekick Cobby. I’m surprised that fucker is still alive. Now be a good girl and tell us where he is.” Don told you as he got into your face, but all you continued to do was stare at him. 

No one called you good girl except Scalvo.

“Y/N, I’m being nice right now and it would be best if you would cooperate with me. I gave you options and I’m being patient. However, you must understand that my patience is thin, especially when it comes to things like this.”

All you did once again was stare at him and he nodded silently to himself before you felt his hand give you a hard slap to your face making your head turn abruptly in the other direction. You had the sudden urge to spit and when you did, you saw blood. 

It was now stinging and tears pricked your eyes, but you made sure to not let them fall. There was no way in hell that you would ever tell them where Scalvo was and besides you didn’t even know. At this point, kidnapping you was absolutely pointless. 

However, you did know that all three of them were in for a rude awakening once Scalvo had found out what they had done and especially Don that had put his hands on you. You delighted in the fact that it was only a matter of time that Scalvo would blow his brains out for messing with his girl. 

“Y/N, I tried to be nice and ask you before I had to do that, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Where’s Scalvo?”

“We’ve been broken up for six months and I haven’t talked to him since. I don’t know where he is, but I can assure you once he does find me and finds out that you put your hands on me, you will definitely be burning in hell.” You whispered to him as he was eye level with you before promptly spitting in his face.

“Fucking bitch.” He immediately said as he pulled back wiping at his face where your bloody spit had landed and Rob and Booch looked to Don to ask permission of what to do next.

“Waterboard her. I don’t believe her for a second. She’s obviously protecting him.”

You sighed to yourself as you remembered when you had first met Scalvo when his hair was damp and it almost looked as if he had taken a shower when he came from the storage room in Mr. Besegai’s bakery.

That’s what Richie and Mr. Besegai were doing to him.

Waterboarding.

When all this was said and done, you planned on having a serious talk with Scalvo about all of this and how much he lied to you. However, he was doing his best to shield you from this life so you couldn’t totally blame him for it.

You just prayed that he was able to find you in time.

Now was not the time for you to die.

You didn’t want to die. 

Who knew that meeting that cute boy in the bakery would lead to all of this?

By this time, Scalvo had quickly grown frustrated with the fact that tracking the license plate went absolutely nowhere. They were able to trace it back to being a rental and not having a true owner. The other part that frustrated him was that your air pods must have been dead or broken because he wasn't able to trace them either. 

Cobby had called Rory who had worked on a few jobs with them to offer some type of help, but Scalvo was simply annoyed by the two old guys who couldn't seem to follow directions. Every time those three went out to do a job, some wild ass shit would happen and Scalvo was surprised that they all were alive when all was said and done.

“What if we ask Mr. Besegai for help?” Rory asked and Scalvo turned and stared at him in disbelief.

“For what? This doesn't make him any money so he definitely doesn't care. Besides, he was the one who had me rob my girlfriend's parents. Don't we remember when all that happened? He threatened to fucking kill her if I didn't do it.”

“Oh, right Cobby told me about that.” He said as he suddenly remembered.

“I'm out of fucking ideas.” Scalvo whispered to himself before his phone rang from an unknown number. He stared at it for a second and then quickly picked it up and put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Scalvo! Surprised I haven't heard from you yet. How's everything going?” Scalvo immediately recognized the voice that belonged to Rob.

“Don't fucking play with me. Where's Y/N?”

“Oh, the pretty little thing we picked up yesterday? She's great. For now.” He told him as he was keeping an eye on you. Your head was slouched down and he was for certain that you were asleep, but you in fact were listening to everything that was happening.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Calm down, pretty boy. She's alive. She actually fell asleep not too long ago after she got tired of us waterboarding her.”

It was at that moment that all Scalvo could see was red.

“If she's alive, put her on the phone.”

“As you wish.”

Rob walked over to you and forcefully grabbed you by a handful of your curly hair in order for you to look up and you instantly let out a scream. Hearing it in real time made Scalvo’s heart drop.

“You have a call sweetheart, it's your beloved boyfriend.”

As you heard these words, you wasted no time in yelling his name.

“Scalvo!”

“I'm coming for you princess. I…”

“Okay, that's enough.” Dob said as he snatched the phone back making you sigh in defeat.

“She's a tough one. But anyway, if you want her back you need to rightfully give me back what's mine.” 

“I'm not giving you a got damn thing.”

“Hmm, so if I were to put a bullet in her head right now, you wouldn't care? Is that what you’re telling me?” He asked as he cocked his gun next to the phone so that he would be able to hear it.

“If you cause her any more harm, me and you are going to have a conversation and it will include me blowing your brains out. Where the fuck is she?”

“Scalvo, let's be real. I’m not telling you anything. Give me what I want and you can get your girlfriend back. When you're ready to take me up on my offer, you let me know. But you don't have a lot of time. I am giving you forty-eight hours to give me back my money otherwise your girlfriend will get delivered to you in pieces. Have a good day.”

After Rob had hung up the phone, it was silent as Rory and Cobby were looking at one another before they both looked over at Scalvo.

“Okay, what now?” Cobby quietly asked and Scalvo quickly got an idea. 

“Cobby, did she have her pink coach wallet with her when you went to get her?”

“Yeah, she was holding it.”

“Shit, why didn't I think of this before?” He said as he quickly typed the password into his phone to unlock it.

“Think of what?” Rory asked and Scalvo quickly shushed him. 

“Before we broke up, I put an air tag in her wallet because that's her favorite one and she always has it. It let me know where she was and if she was okay.”

“Stalker much?” Cobby said as he looked at Scalvo who immediately rolled his eyes.

“That's when Mr. Besegai threatened her and I wasn't taking any chances. It's hidden in a part she doesn't use so there was no way she could have known it was there. I couldn't exactly tell her "oh, by the way babe people are threatening you so I'm just going to put this air tag in your wallet to keep you safe. I don't know why I'm explaining myself to either of you, but yeah.”

“Hmm, good point.”

Sure enough, within a matter of seconds, Scalvo was able to see your location and noticed that you were in Portland, Maine.Their dumbasses must have not had removed your wallet from where they currently were.

“Cobby, put in this address.” He told him, and Cobby quickly started to pull up Google on his phone.

“She's at an old warehouse. If we leave now, we probably won't hit a lot of traffic.” He said out loud which made Scalvo and Rory look at him in disbelief.

“Without a plan?” Rory said and surprisingly, Scalvo quickly agreed with him.

“Exactly. Like come on now. When do we ever just go in blindly?” Scalvo asked him and Cobby quickly turned up his nose.

“Oh, so you don't remember….”

“That was different!”

“Sure, sure. Almost got ourselves killed nonetheless.”

“I just need until tonight to plan all of this out. And we can go and get her when they least expect it.” He told both of them.

“Do you need help planning?” Rory asked and Scalvo rolled his eyes.

“Definitely not from you two. Keep your phones on and I'll call you when everything is a go.”

In the back of his mind, all Scalvo could worry about was getting to you in time and not getting himself killed in the process.

It was now midnight and Scalvo called both Cobby and Rory to meet him so that they could go over the plan so everyone was clear on what they had to do. Scalvo had explained the plan at least three times, with both of them interrupting him multiple times, making this seem like an impossible task.

“Okay, just one more time.” Rory told Scalvo as he threw his head back in disbelief.

“What are you not getting!? And wait a minute, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking notes.”

Scalvo immediately scoffed.

“Taking notes? On a kidnapping situation? Really?”

“It helps me stay on task.”

“What are you, four?” He asked him as they were sitting in Scalvo's car a block away from the warehouse.

“There's nothing wrong with being prepared!”

“Both of you get out of my car. NOW.” Scalvo told them as he grabbed his gun out of the glove compartment. Earlier in the day, he had made sure that there were enough bullets in there even though all of them would be going in Don's chest or skull. He wanted to make sure he got the job done and was going to make sure that it was done correctly.

By this time, you had fallen asleep, but was startled when you felt someone come up behind you.

You knew that particular smell of cologne anywhere.

“Shh, princess I'm here. But don't make a sound. We have to be quiet because I need to make sure we get out of here in one piece.” He told you as he leaned down and whispered in your ear.

All you did was nod as you felt him cutting the rope that was around your waist, ankles and wrists. Once they were cut, you immediately massaged your wrists and could see that your skin was red from where the rope had been rubbing against it.

He immediately embraced you and kissed the top of your head and you held onto him for dear life as if he was going to disappear at any moment.

“Go to the left and down the backstairs. Cobby is waiting for you there and his dumbass knows not to leave you this time and keep eyes on you.”

“But…” You started to say and Scalvo immediately cut you off.

“I'll meet you outside. I promise.”

All you did was shake your head at him and tears started forming in your eyes because you were not liking this plan at all. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if he actually got hurt.

“Y/N, you have to trust me. We don't have any time to waste.”

The main reason why he didn't want you in there was because he definitely did not want you seeing him shoot someone, much less killing them.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and he watched you as you opened the door and went down the steps before going and searching for Don, Rob, and Booch.

As promised, Cobby was at the bottom of the stairwell and quickly ushered you toward Scalvo’s car that was a block away making sure that no one was following the both of you.

“At this point, I'm 0 for 2 and you have every reason in the world to be pissed at me right now.” Cobby told you and you simply shrugged.

Scalvo was definitely right about one thing.

Cobby never knew what to say out of his mouth. 

Once the two of you reached Scalvo’s car, you slid in the passenger seat and laid your head against the window as Cobby hopped in the driver's seat and drove closer to the warehouse.

The plan was for Scalvo to kill Don along with his minions and set the place on fire. Cobby was going to cut the gas line as soon as Scalvo and Rory walked out of the building.

The two of you sat there on edge waiting for the doors to swing open. Once they finally did, you let out a sigh of relief as Cobby had gotten out of the car and Scalvo quickly taking his place as Rory slipped in the backseat. Cobby came out within a matter of minutes, as the building started to go up in flames.

Once everyone was settled into the car, Scalvo immediately took off and started driving back towards Boston until he suddenly changed his mind. His plan consisted of all of you laying low for a few days before heading back to Boston. 

Just in case. 

The biggest satisfaction that the night had brought for Scalvo was that you were alive and in one piece. The second part was that Don was begging on his knees for his life when he had finally caught up to him. All Scalvo did in return as put a bullet in his head for all the harm he brought to you.

As far as he was concerned, people could mess with him however much they wanted to, but you were off limits. Him doing this hopefully sent a message to everyone else including Mr. Besegai that he was not the one to mess with. He glanced over at you as he merged onto the highway to see that your head was leaning up against the window and that your eyes were closed. He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell indicating that you were asleep. This was something that he knew would change your perspective of things for the rest of your life. 

By the time that all of you had reached the hotel you were mentally and physically exhausted. Not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves, Scalvo drove another hour and a half to put as much distance as he could between all of you and the crime scene. The hotel wasn't super fancy and not anything that you were used to, but you were just excited to be alive. However, it wasn’t on the cheap side either. Only the best for Scalvo’s girl.

Before coming to get you, being the thoughtful person that he was, Scalvo had gone to your apartment and had gotten a few sets of fresh clothes for you knowing that he wasn't letting you out of his sight any time soon.

Once in the hotel room, you took in your surroundings before sitting down in the chair that was near the desk. You had been quiet ever since Scalvo found you and the one thing he wanted to hear was your voice. You sat there as you stared off into space before Scalvo came to kneel down in front of you and gently take your hands in his.

“Princess….” He quietly said and your eyes finally landed on him.

“I have some clothes for you and I want you to get cleaned up and get some sleep. I'll help you.”

When you didn't bother answering him, he tried again.

“Baby, I know that a lot has happened over the past two days, but I need you to do this for me.”

“So, this is why you were always keeping secrets from me? For this exact reason.” You barely said above a whisper and all Scalvo did was nod.

“We can talk about that later, but yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We're going to talk about it now. You know how much I love you and how I told you that I was always worried about you because I knew that something was off. At the very least you could have warned me. You know that I would do absolutely anything for you, no questions asked.”

“I know that now and I should have said something to you, but I didn't want to lose you. You have to understand that. You are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I tried to shield you from this life by breaking up with you, but I only made it worse.” Scalvo confessed as he moved a curl out of your face that had fallen. Your face was bloodied and bruised and it hurt his heart to see you like that.

“I cried myself to sleep every night for two months after you left me and disappeared without a fucking trace. You don't do that to people you love.” You yelled at him as tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks.

When you first saw him, you let out a sigh of relief. Now you were mad and were letting him have it. 

“Yes you do in order to protect them. I know you're pissed at me and for good reason. But us arguing is not going to get us anywhere. At least not tonight. I want you to sleep.”

“So you can leave when I fall asleep? And disappear again?”

“No. I'm not letting you out of my sight. It's more dangerous for us not to be together than to be in a relationship. But that's obviously only if you want to. I understand if you tell me no.”

All you did was sit there as Scalvo had gone into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under hot water and brought it back to you to start removing the dried blood off your face. At the first touch, you instantly winced from the sting and pulled back away from him.

“That hurts.”

“I know, babe but I have to do this so nothing will get infected.”

Reluctantly you moved back towards him and he continued to dab at your face with you wincing every few minutes. Scalvo was taking in the cuts on your face and how one side was noticeably more swollen than the other. The two of you were silent as he finished cleaning off your face and when he was done, you finally spoke.

“If we're going to do this, you have to promise me something.”

“Anything, baby. Name it.”

“From now on there cannot be any secrets between us. You have to be 100% honest with me about everything. I don't care how small it is. You know how I feel about lying by now.”

Scalvo nodded his head as he leaned down to take off your shoes and socks.

“And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Do not ever make me worry like that to the point that I thought you were dead again because I will find you and kill you myself.”

Scalvo let out a laugh before he helped you stand up to get into the shower.

“Yes ma'am.” 

After you had taken a shower, washed your hair, and styled it, Scalvo had actually remembered to grab your bonnet and he quickly slipped it over your hair. Once you were settled in the king sized bed, Scalvo took a shower himself and you dozed off until you felt the bed dip indicating that he had sat down. He sat there for a few minutes and your concern was growing. You gently put a hand on his shoulder and that was when he decided to put it all out in the open how he was feeling.

“You okay?” You quietly asked and he immediately shook his head no.

“Did something else happen that I don't know about?” 

“I literally almost lost you. I almost lost you for good. That was entirely too close. It should have never been that close.”

“But you didn't. You found me and I'm okay.”

“Baby, no you're not. Not a single person that goes through that is okay when it's all said and done. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't get to you in time. All of this happened because of me. You got hurt because of me.”

“Hey, stop. None of that. But you did and I had no doubt that you would.”

“I did. And I thought to myself that my second chance was so close to me that I could reach out and touch it, but it got snatched away from me and I didn't think that this would lead to a happy ending for either of us.” He told you as he turned around to face you.

“But it did. We get a second chance to do it right this time.” You told him as he had laid down next to you and you quickly embraced him as you began to play in his hair. 

“I missed this, I missed us.”

“I missed us too and we're going to be okay.” You told him and he leaned forward to capture you in a kiss.

From the moment his lips touched yours, it honestly felt like a wave of electricity flowing through your body. You quickly kissed him back and attempted to straddle him, but he stopped you.

“Not now. I need you to get proper rest first. But, you can have as many free cuddles as you want.” He told you and you simply laid on top of him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You whispered against his chest as he held onto you tightly.

“Hmm, I don't recall, but I'm all ears if you want to tell me again.” He told you before he leaned down to kiss your forehead as he smiled at you.

A few months had passed and things were getting back to being normal, well as normal as they could be considering what had happened. For Scalvo’s comfort and peace of mind, you moved out of your apartment and into another one that was a good distance away from where the first one had been and you quickly asked him to move in with you. You had been without him longer than you had liked, so it was a quick decision that was made on your part. Of course he did so without a second thought.

It was a Saturday morning and Scalvo had plans to meet up with Cobby and Rory on a new job that Mr. Besegai had told them about.  It was around seven in the morning when you felt Scalvo leave kisses on your face and you quickly popped your left eye open to look at him seeing that he was dressed and wearing too many clothes for your liking.

“Aht! Aht! Baby, where could you possibly be going? It is seven in the morning on a Saturday. Get back over here and lay with me.” 

“I got to meet Cobby and Rory. We got another job to do from Mr. Besegai. I have to meet them at the docks. I won’t be long, princess I promise.” He muttered back to you knowing that you didn't approve. You had told him ever since that incident went down a few months ago that you wanted him out of this life. And of course he told you that it wasn't that easy.

“Scalvo….”

“I know, I know. Just a little while longer. I promise. I just need to stack enough for us to be secure and be able to leave Boston for good.”

“And if you get killed before that, what then?” You asked him as you sat up and crossed your arms.

“It's not going to happen. As long as I know that you're alive on this earth and that I have someone to come home to, I will do everything I can to make sure I get to hold you every night. I love you more than anything in this world. You know that.” He told you as he leaned forward to kiss you. Hearing that made tears prick your eyes, but you quickly wiped it away.

“I love you too. Just go before I change my mind and hold you hostage in this bed.”

“Hmm, you can tie me up later and have your way with me if that's what you're getting at.” He told you as he wiggled his eyebrows and you immediately rolled your eyes at him.

“One hour, princess.” He told you as he grabbed his wallet, keys, and gun from the nightstand. 

Having the gun in the bedroom with you was a whole nother discussion and you definitely didn't approve of it. But you knew he did it to keep the both of you safe. This was a step up because when you had first moved in, he slept with it under his pillow.

“I'm holding you to that.”

“Go back to sleep and I'll bring breakfast back for you.”

You nodded as he placed the comforter back over you to tuck you in before kissing your forehead once more.

As he locked the apartment and went down the elevator and out to the parking garage, someone was leaning on his car that was parked next to yours. He made sure that he had a good hold on his gun before approaching them.

When he did, he was startled to find out it was your father.

“Mr. Lawson?”

He turned to him as he took a long sip of his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“I wish I could I just….”

“This won't take long. Less than two minutes and you'll be on your way.”

“Okay, sure.”

“From the moment we met, I knew I had seen you before. So I did my research with a few buddies that I know and found out about you and what exactly you do for Mr. Besegai. Now let me make this perfectly clear because I am only going to say this once. Stay away from my daughter. I don't want her anywhere near someone like you. Besides, what could you possibly offer her? I know what happened a few months ago and that would have never been the case had she not met you. I know that it was you and your little friend Cobby that broke into my house. If you don't, I will easily have the FBI investigate you and put you away for the rest of your life. I don't want to have this conversation again. Have a good day now.”

As soon as he was done talking, he walked to his range rover and slid into the driver's seat and pulled off leaving Scalvo at a loss as to what had just happened.

He couldn't worry about that now, he had a job to do.

However, what scared him the most was knowing that he had to tell you what had just happened.