#there is so much that was removed and i can't understand why. it's upsetting

[pyro-madder]

next time i'm booting up Blue World the first thing i'll do is throw myself in the shark zone of ciceros straits. to feel something

[selineram3421]

*contemplates existence for a second*

Hissy Kitty

Part 3

Part 2

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ we love seeing a man lose his mind, mentions of stabbing, poor noodle bean Pentious ⚠

As the shadows in the room grew, Alastor paced back and forth with his hand covering his mouth.

His mind jumping from one thought to another.

I don't understand what's happening! I should know what's happening! Why don't I know!?

Walking faster, he laughed and moved the hand that was on his mouth to run his fingers through his hair.

There were flashes of you appearing in his thoughts. That cold hateful glare, your eyes glowing radiantly as you hissed at him. The way you stood your ground in a powerful stance as the ears on your head were pinned back.

God you looked terrific.

NO!

He shook his head.

Angry, confused, anxious, happy. Emotions battled within him as he continued to pace.

"Oh fucking hell.", he gripped his hair on the sides of his head. "Holy fuck, whatever shall I do with this?"

The Radio Demon was feeling something new and he didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know what it was and that made him upset.

He had to know.

Needed to know.

To be in control.

He couldn't have his emotions taking hold of him. He couldn't have you messing with his heart head.

"The¥ Ωe€d +o &θ.", he growled out with a clenched jaw.

Now he knew why Husker didn't want them around.

They are a distraction, a detour in his plans. Too much trouble to have nearby. A weakness.

He stopped at that.

A weakness..

The static grew even louder, causing the widows to crack and break.

"Ha..hahaha.", he dropped his arms and leaned against his desk with one hand. "Hahaha-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!", he laughed, moving a hand to his stomach as he bended inwards. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He scratched deep claw marks into his desk.

"Ha..."

The room got quiet.

Not a single sound came from him, there was no static or laugh track as he realized what the new emotion filling his chest was.

This wasn't part of the plan..

"This can't go on. I must extinguish this disgusting feeling.", he furrowed his brows. "How absurd. To think such a demon could make me doubt myself."

Removing his claws out from the table, he flicked his hand to rid of the wood chips that stuck onto him.

Fixing his coat and snapping his fingers, he had his creatures get to fixing the windows.

"Let's get to work boys. I need this place to be spotless.", he said without so much as a glance, making his way to the trap door.

"Everything needs to be in perfect θrd€r."

The latch closed as he exited the radio tower.

.

You sat on one of the dining table chairs.

The Princess had asked Niffty to make you a uniform and you were waiting for the little demon to show up.

"Oooh! I'm so excited! I've already got all of tomorrow's activities planned out!", Charlie said and bounced in place. "I hope you don't mind wearing the hotel colors."

"I don't mind at all.", you smiled. "I just hope I can get at least three shirts."

"Let's check in with Niffty when she gets here.", the blonde said looking at the door before glancing back at you. "You know.. I'm curious about something."

"What's up?", you give her your attention.

"Are you and Alastor like...you know.", she waves her hand around. "Together?"

Blink blink.

"What?"

"It's just that I see him around you almost all the time, and Alastor is very picky with who he touches.", she explains. "I mean if it isn't dancing then he wouldn't really engage in contact. Sure he's patted me on the shoulder once or twice but honestly that's really it.", she then leans a little closer. "I totally understand if you don't want to say anything but I support your relationship."

You just stared at the Princess, not sure what to say.

Thankfully you didn't have to as Niffty ran into the room.

"I've got my needles!", she smiled wide. "Who am I stabbing?"

"No, no!", Charlie waved her hands as to say stop. "Not stabbing! We need a uniform."

"Oh, ok!", the cyclops pulled out a tailors measuring tape. "Up! Up! I need to take your measurements!"

You got up and walked over, letting her guide you to make it easier to get the right measurements. As the little demon measured your arm, you thought about what Charlie said.

He only did that to annoy Husk, there's no way he likes me in that way. Why am I even thinking about this? It's so obvious that I'm just something to play with to him. You spread your arms out so Niffty could measure the back of your shoulders. Maybe it's because Charlie thinks so. I know it couldn't happen.

The cyclops moved to measure your waist.

Yeah, it would never happen.

"All done!", Niffty pulled out a sewing needle. "Now for the fun part.", she grinned.

"Do you think you could make me two or three shirts?", you asked. "It's ok if you can't."

"I can!", she said and sprinted out of the room. "I'll leave them in your room when I'm done!"

You waved to Charlie as you left, making your way over to your room.

I hope there's no bugs on my bed again. You shivered at the memory. That was so gross.

"Exsscusse me.", someone said from behind you.

Turning around, you saw Sir Pentious.

"Oh! Hi Pentious! What can I do for you?", you asked with a smile.

"I'm..uh. I have a question, if that'sss alright?", he asks, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Sure! What's on your mind?", you replied.

"Are you being courted by the Radio Demon?", he asked.

...

"What?"

"What?"

You held your hands out as to say stop and shook your head with a laugh. "No. What in the world gave you that idea?"

"Well.. he'sss been around you so often and he takess care of you.",the snake demon explains. "I just thought with sssuch actions, he'd be trying to attract you."

Someone else thought Alastor and I were together? Does it really look like that?

"Why the question?", you asked.

"Um..I want to know how to court ssomeone.", he said shyly.

You gasped excitedly.

"Oh! Do you have a special someone!?", you took hold of his hands. "Do I know them!?", you asked.

Before Sir Pentious could say anything, you were yanked away from him.

"Woah!"

Your back was pressed against something warm. Static buzzed loudly, making the fur on your ears and tail tingle. The shadows got darker and started to take shape of sinister creatures.

"H@πd$ øff."

The vibrations from his radio voice came from his chest, which you felt rumble through you.

"Alastor?", you said nervously.

"W-wait!", Pentious backed up. "All I did wass asssk a quesstion!"

"I'm &o¡ng t⁰ ©0ok ¥∅u |ik€ ®oti$serie ¢hick€n!", the deer demon threatened.

"Alastor!", you shouted and turned in his hold to grab his face, tilting his head down. "Damn it! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

Finally he stopped, red eyes dimming the glowing and now focused on you. Pentious took this as a chance to escape and slithered off quickly.

"What just happened?"

*goes back to typing* I'm good.

~Seline, the person.

Part 4

Taglist@

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ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

[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!

[atinystaypixie]

Talk to Me

Warning: Pussy slaps (we love those), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), sexual content nun too crazy it's sex

18+ MDNI!!

Ony walked into your shared bedroom to see your figure tangled in the sheets. He knew you weren't sleeping which gave him the confirmation that you still weren't in a good mood. On a normal night, if you had gone to lay down before him you would turn to greet him to the warmth of the bed with open arms ready to cuddle. However, tonight wasn't a normal night. You had been giving him attitude all day which eventually led to an argument between you two.  Ony was trying his hardest to understand why you were upset to begin with, but you wouldn't take the time to explain. Instead, you decided to give him a "fuck it, I don't even want to talk about it anymore," and storming off.

You weren't one to express your emotions easily and Ony was always understanding of that. He was one to take his time with you and maintain clear communication. It was part of the reason you loved him so much. You felt bad for acting this way but putting your thoughts into words was harder than having an unjustified attitude. 

"Baby," you hear the handsome man call out to you as you feel the weight of the bed sink. He is now sitting behind your back. "Baby, I can't know what's wrong unless you tell me. I've been trying, but I can't figure out what's making you so upset." He says in a soft voice still trying to be gentle and patient with you. 

Again, he is met with silence from your side. Now he lightly shakes your shoulder and you respond with a shrug strong enough to throw his hand off of you. This causes the man to become agitated, that patience that you valued so much running thin. He had been at this with you for hours. After all the space and room he gave you to voice your problems, the man didn't know what else to do with you.

"Ma, Imma give you five seconds to fix yourself before I do." The way his voice dropped an octave caused your breathing to still for a second. The second being too long because you felt his weight disappear from behind you. All too quickly, Ony snatched the cover off and wrapped his hand around your ankle. Your world suddenly speeding as he drugged you to the edge of the bed and sat you up. Curling his finger around your chin and staring directly in your face as he now stood in front of you shirtless with only his sweats on. The intensity of his close proximity makes you avoid his deep glare. He didn't appreciate you not looking him in the eyes causing him to tug your chin before speaking. "Look at me," you shyly met his glaze making him hum in appreciation at your obedience. "This gone be the last time I ask you so don't make me repeat myself. What. Is. Your. Problem?" He punctuated every word to get his point across that he wasn't playing with you.

You start mumbling your response, making him cut you off. Pulling closer to you so that his mouth was directly to your ear and his cheek was pressed to yours, "nah. Nah. Speak up like you did earlier when you lost your mind and cursed at me, baby". Your bottom lip started to tremble, “Daddy,” you whine almost inaudibly. Ony let out a small laugh in a breath of air before pulling back to look you in the eyes and dropping his slight smile. “That was yo chance, ma.”

Ony removed his hand from your face to wrap both arms around your thighs and move you to the center of the bed. He spread your pretty, chocolate thighs giving him access to your clothed pussy. “All day, ma. Chance after chance. Yet you still acting up on me for,” suddenly you felt a sharp slap straight between your legs, “nothing!” Ony finished his sentence harshly after he delivered the slap to your pussy. You tried to pull your legs closed but failed due to his large frame being there, “Daddy, wait-” another slap given to your clothed cunt stopped you from finishing your sentence. “Nah, you didn’t want to talk, remember. Keep doing what you was doing. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Ony slapped your pussy three more times before moving to take your booty shorts off revealing your bare pussy to him. You weren’t wearing panties which gave him the sight of your slick starting to spill from your aching cunt.

He rubbed his thumb down your slit then around your folds spreading your arousal. “Giving me attitude for nun then get wet for me? Cute.” This time Ony gave repeated slaps to your exposed clit making you whine in pleasure and pain. He reached his hand that was now covered in your juices and stuck his fingers in your mouth. You started sucking them as he rubbed them on your tongue holding eye contact with you. “That’s my good girl. Why couldn’t you be like this all day?” He removes his fingers and shoves his ring and middle finger into your dripping hole letting his palm stimulate your clit as he roughly rubs your insides. You grab his wrist trying to slow his actions which causes him to take your hand and pin it above your head. “Move, baby. I haven’t even started with you yet so just take it like a big girl.” He says soothingly, the opposite of the assault he is doing on your leaking cunt. Your voice sounds throughout the room as you moan out from the pleasure he is giving you. Squeezing around his fingers, juices dripping down to the bed. Orgasm nearing you start speaking,”Daddy! Baby, please. I’m going to cum.” That’s enough for Ony to halt his actions and lick your wetness off his fingers.

“You’ll talk for that, huh?” He says unamused. He goes to remove your shirt admiring your brown skin, the perkiness of your breast, and your slightly darker, erect nipples. He runs his large hands up and down your sides to sooth you after the ruined orgasm before bringing one hand to the back of your neck and giving you a kiss for the first time tonight. It’s nasty. Tongue on tongue, saliva swapping, smacking sounds. It’s got you drunk off of him, so drunk you almost don’t hear him say “open your mouth, ma”.  When you do, he grabs your throat and spits into your mouth. He starts kissing you again then trails down to your neck sucking and biting at the skin. Ony takes one of your nipples in between his fingers and squeezes it causing you to throw your head back giving him more access to your neck. Your mouth hangs open letting out gasps and moans which Ony takes notice of. “Oh? Now you can open your mouth? Good, let’s put it to use.” He removes his sweats and leans against the headboard with you now infront of him. Dick hard with a slight curve, vein running down the side, and precum dripping from the tip.

He moves your goddess locs hanging in your face behind your ear and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. In his other hand, he grabs his hard dick and strokes it a couple of times, making you drool at the sight. Ony knows the look in your eyes all too well. You’ve never been one to resist his cock. He bites his lip as he slides his leaking tip over your lips before parting them and slowly guiding the head in. You happily wrap your lips around him excited to have him on your tongue. He pulls back out before pushing your head down on his cock completely. Taking a moment to enjoy the warmness and pulsing of your throat as it adjusts to his intrusion, Ony moans and lovingly rubs your cheek. “Yea, baby. This is a much better use for your mouth.” 

After a moment, he pulls your head off of him and watches as your saliva strands disconnect from him. Ony moves you to lay on your back and aligns himself with your pussy. Rubbing his dick between your wet slit causing you both to moan. Your hips moving against his seeking the pleasure he always gives just to be met with a strong hand stopping your movements as he continues to tease you. “You’ll get what I give you. Closed mouths don’t get fed, but you ain’t never heard that obviously.” He taps the heavy member against your bud and slides it to your opening. Circling the entrance and pushing just the tip in making you suck in a breath. He grabs your legs and puts one over his shoulder and pushes the other one open. 

“You gone start talking now?” He asks starting to feed you slow, deep thrust. Pushing all the way in and pulling almost completely out before starting again. “Come on pretty girl. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.” He kisses your ankle keeping his rhythm, making your brain foggy. You try to speak but it comes out scrambled due to him hitting your deepest parts and being able to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, bae. Please!” Was your response, only focused on being split open by his dick. It wasn’t what he was looking for. Speeding up his strokes, watching you say incomprehensible sentences Ony presses his weight to you and grabs your hands. You squeal out at the way you can feel him rubbing at your sweet spots even more at this angle. He interlocks your fingers and talks with his lips brushing against yours, “come on, ma. Talk to me.”

He suddenly starts giving you harsh thrust. Rough enough that your body jerks and the bed shakes. You can feel him everywhere. Against your lips, between your fingers, pelvis to clit, walls to dick, and his large frame wrapped between your legs. The stimulation is too much. You can’t help but to squeeze around him and squirt, wetting his abdomen and the sheets. He pauses, “now you just pissing me off.”

Ony pulls out and flips you on your stomach with your ass up and face down. He doesn’t give warning, just sliding back in and giving quick, mean strokes. He brings his hands down, slapping both of your ass cheeks at the same time. You’re screaming into the sheets now due to overstimulation. Ony is merciless. Tired of pleading with you and patience gone. He reaches around to rub at your puffy clit causing you to try to move away. He pulls you back, “stay fucking still.” He doesn’t care to hear you begging him to slow down. The only thing he cares about is when he hears your broken rushed out sentence, “missed you!” 

He pulls you up to him, back to chest, “what was that, mamas?” He questions slowly his thrust slightly giving you room to speak. “I just missed you, Daddy. Just wanted your attention.” He turns your head and captures your lips. He smiles and says, “there you go baby. Keep talking to me.” He starts to speed his thrust up again making you moan as you speak, “Just needed - shit- just needed you. Missed ahh spending time with you.” You feel another orgasm approaching, “please let me cum, Ony” you plead with him.

“Go head, ma. I’m right behind you.” He kisses you through your orgasm. Your cum leaking down his shaft as he fills up your clenching hole. Ony lay you both on your sides without pulling out. “I’m sorry, ma. I didn’t know you felt that. You know I would have made more time for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know, baby. I just felt clingy and didn’t want to annoy you.” The man had been working more lately and you were feeling the effects of the extra time spent away from him.

He kisses your cheek and tightens his hold on you, “don’t ever think you annoy me baby. I love you in every way possible. Next time just talk to me.”

✨

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

This was longer than I expected. Ending was bleh. Tbh i didn't even know what was gone happen next

ENJOY!

Pixie's Masterlist

[vbecker10]

Language (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.

Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?

"Why are you standing so close to me?" he says finally looking up to see you reading over his shoulder.

You take a large step back and giggle nervously, "Sorry. I- Umm... Did you find anything useful?"

"Possibly," he says as he gets up. He holds the open book, his eyes still glued to the aged pages. After a moment, Loki looks up and smiles, hopefully. "Are you ready to try again?"

"I think so," you nod nervously and head back to the couch with Loki close behind you.

He sits next to you, his knee touching yours but neither of you shift away from the closeness. He places the open book on the coffee table and rereads the text again, his fingers trace the words as he mumbles to himself. You put your hand on his knee without thinking and he looks up at you, causing you to remove it quickly.

"Sorry," you say quietly, not sure exactly what you are apologizing for.

"Are you ready?" he asks, sensing your nervousness.

You nod, "Mmhmm." He looks at you questioningly and you add, "Yea, I'm ready."

He smiles confidently and your worries fade swiftly. This is going to work, you think as you close your eyes, listening to Loki read in an ancient, foreign language. When he finishes, he touches your shoulder lightly and you open your eyes. "Shall we see if it worked?" he asks, closing the book.

You smile and say, "I hope this fucking spell worked." You sit quietly, excitement spreading through your body when nothing happens. You laugh happily but when you look over at Loki, your heart suddenly sinks.

"Say that again," he says, his eyes on your lips.

You repeat each word slowly, again J.A.R.V.I.S remains silent but the prince doesn't share your initial enthusiasm. He reopens the book quickly and your heart begins to race. "What's wrong?" you ask. You look down at yourself, your mind filling with dozens of terrible possible outcomes.

"Look at me," he says, touching your cheek gently. "Can you understand me?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer. "Why the hell wouldn't I-"

"I want you to nod if you still understand what I am saying," he says and you fill with dread. You nod dramatically and he says, "Okay... that's a good start." His eyes return to the book as he finds the page he is looking for, you tap his shoulder to get his attention.

"Good start? What the hell is wrong with me Loki?" you ask him.

"You know what the Allspeak does, yes?" he asks and you again nod, your confusion growing. "I have no idea what you are saying, Y/N. I cannot understand you."

"What?!" you ask in shock as you stand quickly. "How is that even possible? You can speak every fucking language in the universe and you-"

"You do not seem to be speaking any known language in the nine realms," he explains and you stare at him in disbelief. "Just try to stay calm, please," he says, he stands and reaches for your wrists to keep you from flailing your hands as you talk quickly.

"Calm? How am I supposed to be calm?" you ask him but you know he can't answer your questions. "Someone with the fucking Allspeak can't figure out what I'm-"

"I will reverse it," he promises, trying to get you to focus on him.

He sits, gently pulling you with him and he looks at the book again, his fingers tracing the words. You watch him quietly, your body filling with panic at the thought that you may never be understood again. How do these spells keep going so wrong, you wonder.

"I know you are upset," he says, touching your knee lightly, "But please just bare with me a bit longer."

Loki closes the book and runs his fingers over the cover slowly, his head lowered as he avoids looking at you. He gets up, picking up the book. The prince sighs deeply, "I think it would be for the best if we discontinue our search for the night." You can hear the defeat in his voice and you feel equally let down by the lack of progress.

"Yeah, before you do turn me into a frog," the joke slips out before you can stop it. Loki clenches his jaw in response and turns away from you. "I'm sorry, that wasn't funny," you tell him awkwardly. "I know you're only trying to help."

He shrugs his shoulder as he puts the book on the useless book pile.

"Umm... can I ask you one more favor?" you ask, checking your watch to see that it is almost 11PM.

"If it requires magic, I suggest you refrain from asking as I'm clearly not capable of performing a successful spell tonight," Loki says, his back still to you.

You sigh, regretting your failed attempt at the barely thought through joke. "It doesn't need any magic," you tell him and he nods, turning to face you again. "I was wondering if I could... um... would it be okay if I sleep here tonight?" you ask nervously.

He looks at you, his face full of confusion, "Why would you need to do that?"

"I live like an hour and a half from here," you explain. "Case agents like me don't live in the Tower, I have an apartment in north Jersey."

"Oh," he pauses and you bite your lip, hoping you haven't pushed the boundary of the very fragile friendship you are forming with the God. "Yes, I suppose that would be fine," he agrees.

You turn over on the couch, blinking your eyes slowly, unsure what disturbed your light sleep. Sitting up, you see Loki sitting cross legged on the floor, an open book in his lap. A dim lamp sits on top of the stack so the rest of the room remains as dark as possible while he is still able to read.

"Loki, what are you still doing up?" you ask, rubbing your eyes. You check your watch, it's been a little over an hour since you had said goodnight to each other.

"I have not been able to sleep," he says quietly. "I did not mean to wake you, I am sorry."

"I don't think you did," you tell him, now fully awake. "I don't usually sleep well in new places." You get up from the couch and walk over to him. "How come you couldn't sleep?"

"I kept thinking there was something I was missing and I think I was right," he says, a hint of hope in his voice. "I found one more spell I think we should try... if you still trust me to do so," he looks up at you.

Loki sits next to you and you shift closer to him, looking down at the book he is holding. The symbols on the yellowed page are completely unrecognizable to you but you follow Loki's finger as he reads. "If this does not work..." his eyes met yours, "I am afraid I will be out of spells to try," he sounds disappointed.

"I still appreciate you trying so hard tonight," you tell him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. He smiles a bit and you add, "Even if you still insist you only did this because you were bored."

The God of Mischief opens his mouth slowly to respond but shakes his head as he keeps the words from being spoken. Loki clears his throat and you can practically see the walls you've been gradually breaking down between you swiftly being rebuilt. He shifts on the couch, moving way from you slightly as he focuses his attention on the book.

"This spell is older than the others we have tried and it will require something the others did not," he says without looking at you a few moments later. "It will need to be sealed, if the seal holds the spell works. If the seal breaks, the spell fails."

"Okay..." you feel nervous again, somehow needing to seal the spell makes it seem much more powerful. "How do you seal a spell?"

"Traditionally, there are two options," he flicks his wrist and a small, thin bladed dagger appears in his palm. "With a bit of blood from the person the spell is being casted upon," you shake your head no quickly and he chuckles at your reaction. "Or with a kiss between the subject of the spell and the one casting it."

"Are you fucking serious?" you ask him, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S easily as you are too surprised by Loki's options to contain your reaction.

"Yes," he says, you can tell by his expression he didn't expect you to question him.

"This isn't just your trickster way of getting me to kiss you, is it?" you ask, half joking since you truly don't know anything about spellwork.

He smirks, his playful side reappearing, "If tricking you into kissing me was my goal, I would have suggested you test your theory when you implied that I do not know how to use my hands correctly."

You cringe and laugh nervously, remembering your embarrassment when you realized he had been listening to you. "You really do want to prove me wrong, huh?" you say, trying to sound sarcastic.

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, "I am not sure what type of answer you are looking for."

"I'm not either," you mumble. You aren't sure now is the time to wonder what Loki feels for you so you quickly push down the growing feelings you have for him. "Can we just get this over with?"

"There is always the first option," his eyes drift towards the blade still sitting on the table.

"Ooh... how could I forget? So my choices are be stabbed or kiss you," you pretend to think over your options.

"It wouldn't be a stabbing, necessarily," he chuckles. "I just need a bit of blood, a small cut on your palm will work nicely."

You sigh and shake your head, "Okay." He smiles and flicks his wrist, sending away the dagger but at the same moment you hold your hand out, palm up. "I guess I'll chose getting 'not stabbed'." He looks at you, the shock evident on his face and you can't help but laugh. "Wow, you really did want to kiss me," you say and he shakes his head.

"I will admit, kissing you did seem the more enjoyable option," he says to your surprise, "But I am also quite fond of my daggers." He smirks and the weapon reappears.

"No, no, no," you cross your arms to hide your hands, "I was kidding." He chuckles and the dagger vanishes again. "This is the weirdest first kiss I've ever negotiated," you tell him.

"I can look for a third option to seal the spell if it would make you more comfortable. I have heard of using a small bit of hair as a substitute for blood but I will need to look into it more," he stands up, and you feel a bit struck by the fact that he won't force this on you. It relaxes you to know that joking aside, he is truly allowing it to be your choice.

You reach for his wrist and he sits next to you again. "That's not necessary," you tell him.

He smiles and nods at your choice, his mood lifted as he appears more confident. Loki looks towards the open pages and skims the first few lines before he lifts his head and says, "Don't move once I start. I will let you know when it is time to seal the spell."

You nod give him a thumbs up and he sighs so you sit completely still.

He reads the foreign words quietly, his lips barely moving. A green glow surrounds his fingers, he waves them slightly towards you. The glow flows from his fingers to your throat and you feel a slight tingling spread from your neck up to your jaw, lips and tongue. You fight to stay perfectly still, unsure of the consequences if you move before he tells you to. The glow fades and he looks down to read again.

"Okay, all that is left is to seal the spell," he says, his eyes meeting yours.

You lean towards him nervously and close your eyes at the sensation of Loki's lips ghosting over yours as if he is trying to kiss you as lightly as possible. You gasp when you feel a literal spark pass from his lips to yours, quickly you assume that is the magic that seals the spell. Thinking it is over, you pull away slowly but Loki moves towards you, pressing his lips to yours harder. His hand cups your cheek softly, his fingers grazing your skin as they slide down your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Loki's other hand moves to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt tightly. His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they travel up the back of your neck and into your hair.

Without warning, Loki drops his hand and pulls away from you, breaking the kiss and all physical contact with you. "I think that should be more than enough to seal the spell," he says in a serious tone but you can see a small smile on his skilled lips. "Care to test it out?" he asks.

You take a deep breath, afraid of what will happen if the seal breaks and the spell fails. "Fuck," you swear quietly.

The room is silent and you take Loki's hand while you wait anxiously, he squeezes your hand in response. J.A.R.V.I.S activates and charges you for violating Steve's order. Loki pulls his hand slowly free from yours and looks down in defeat. "Damnit," you sigh and the program charges you a second time in just seconds.

"I am truly sorry, Y/N," he says closing the book. He tosses it on the ground near the stack of discarded books and sits back against the cushions. "I honestly thought I had figured it out. Maybe I am useless," he covers his face with his hands.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Vil Schoenheit with a sibling dating Neige and then coming out gay to him

Sibling! Schoenheit: *knocks on door*

Vil: "Who is it?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "It's me, dear brother."

Vil: "Ah, you may come in."

Sibling! Schoenheit: *opens door* "Good afternoon."

Vil: "Good afternoon. May I ask why are you here instead of attending your club activities?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "To discuss something important with you."

Vil: "And does this discussion have anything to do with your academic performance? Professor Crewel talked to me yesterday and he said that you're failing his quizzes. Would you care to explain?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....."

Vil: "....?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....I'm gay, Vil."

Vil: "I know. Now tell me why are your grades below the standards' perfection?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "It's alright if you don't understa- wait, what?"

Vil: "Are you deaf? I said why are your scores in--"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "No,no,not that. You KNEW I was gay? How?"

Vil: "Mostly due to my influence. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't strive to study."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "For how long?"

Vil: "As early as your freshman year."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "..."

Vil: "So Rook told me that you're dating someone without my permission..."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "ROOK!"

Rook, hidden under the window outside: "Oui?"

Sibling! Schoenheit, removes one of their shoes and throws it at Rook: "I SWEAR TO THE GREAT SEVENS, IF I SEE YOU AGAIN YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE!!"

Rook, dodges the shoe and leaves: "Ooh la la! A hunt between me and Roi du Toxique! In that case, I will prepare to be hunted! Au revoir!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "WHY THAT SON OF A--

Vil: "Ahem!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "... Baguette."

Vil: "I am guessing that this secret lover of yours is also the reason why you're failing?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "No, it's not that..."

Vil: "Then you must be struggling whether to change yourself to suit your secret lover's horrible tastes?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "You're wrong! Neige is--"

Vil: "Pardon?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "U-umm... They are a good person?"

Vil: "I'm sorry but... I couldn't help but hear a certain name "Neige" coming from you."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....I can explain---"

Vil: "GREAT SEVENS, SIBLING! SCHOENHEIT! HAVE YOU DROPPED YOUR STANDARDS?! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU CHOOSE TO DATE HIM INSTEAD OF ANY OTHER MEN OUT THERE!! HE IS A MUCH WORSE INFLUENCE THAN EPEL!!!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...B-but he's a sweet and kind person with good morale... I cannot ask for a better lover--"

Vil: "PLEASE! THAT FRIENDLY AURA OF HIS IS NOTHING BUT A FACADE TO GET WHAT HE WANTS!! ONE DAY, YOU'LL UNDERSTAND THAT THE WORLD OF BEAUTY AND ENTERTAINMENT WILL CHOOSE HIM OVER YOU, AND YOU'LL STAY IN HIS SHADOW NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY!!!"

Sibling! Sibling: "Well, that's rich coming from someone who hasn't even seen his facade!"

Vil, about to Overblot a second time: "YOU DIDN'T EVEN CONSIDER HIS OBLIVIOUSNESS AND NAIVETY AS A PART OF HIS OVERLY HAPPY-GO-LUCKY PERSONALITY! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HE MAKES LITTLE TO NO EFFORT OF WORKING HARD PAINFULLY EVERYDAY FOR THE SAKE OF BEAUTY?! HE. IS. NOT. WORTHY. TO BE CALLED THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ALL!!!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "Can't YOU see that he's trying to be himself?!... He didn't want to upset everyone that he's being overwhelmed by his own popularity... He perfected and keeps the smile on his face everyday to hide it all... He cares and loves me for ME. And I cherish every moment with him."

Vil: ".........."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...It's okay, dear brother. Although I am choosing him... You're still the most beautiful of all."

Vil: ".....You mean that, Sibling! Schoenheit?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "I mean every single word and I stay true to you as your sibling."

Vil, hugs them: ".....I forgive you."

Sibling! Schoenheit, hugs back: "... Thank you for understanding."

Vil: "........................"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...................."

Vil: "I forgive YOU but I don't forgive HIM. I'll allow you to date him for a while but if he tries anything strange, come to me."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "Brother!"

Vil: "I stand with my statement. You cannot change my mind. Now that that's out of the way, what are you potatoes doing in my room?"

Ace: "...Huh?...."

Deuce: "... U-umm...."

Rook: "😊"

Epel: ".........Uhh...."

Jamil: ".....*sigh*....."

Kalim: "We thought that you're gonna Overblot again, so..."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "................."

Vil: "ALL OF YOU GET OUT."

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 15 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: hihi, just wanted to thank you all for the love for the 2 most recent chapters <33 I’m loving all messages and comments!! 💖 please enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the last chapter tomorrow (around 20:30 CEST)🥹🤍

W/C: 3.385

part fourteen

"You know that you're allowed to be upset, right, Jude?" She asks, looking down at the tired-looking boy.

"I know, but it's disappointing.." Jude murmurs back, moving his head to look up at her. His head on her lap, as her hands delicately play with the soft, just-washed curls on his head.

It's a soothing and intimate touch, something they'd both discovered to create a calm and relaxing atmosphere.

"You can be disappointed. It's difficult feeling like you’re on top of the world one day, and the next you feel like shit."

y/n puffs out a breath, trying to reassure his thoughts and feelings with logical and rational reasoning.

Real Madrid had won the Super Cup final against their derby rivals Atletico Madrid only a week ago in Riyadh. Though, last night's loss against the exact same opponents for the Copa del Rey hadn't exactly gone the same way.

With the extra time and many yellow cards later, they eventually lost with two goals made by Atletico, throwing Real Madrid out of reach of the win in a very dramatic fashion.

It was a whirlwind of a week for Jude, and to him- all he needed was someone to help him sort his thoughts out.

"You can't change anything about the past, not even when you fret and ponder about it for years. You can only look forward and change what you think you can, think winning the league or even the Champions League, Jude…” She says, leaning back against the couch, warm fingertips hovering above his hairline.

"You sound like a motivational speaker.." He voices, chuckling while watching her recline on the couch.

"Well, what I'm saying is true. Like- when I thought you moving in would be the end of my life- it turned into- this.."

She points at him and back to herself, making a dramatic gesture.

"End of your life? That's harsh." He frowns, grasping her hand to prevent her from poking his eyes out.

"Well, then let's not remind you of the times I've wanted to punch you right across the face, wanting to wipe that smirk off your lips and-"

Her voice is cut off by his hand, it clamped over her mouth as only muffled noises escape from her lips.

"Should I feel threatened?" He questions, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, only to groan as she pokes her tongue through her lips. He removes his hand, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he sits up from his position.

"No, I'm sure you also had hateful thoughts about me. I definitely cannot blame you.." She trails off, trying to recall anything pertaining to the topic.

"You were pretty annoying." He states, clicking his tongue. Jude fixes his position, making sure he's sitting comfortably.

"Annoying?"

She had expected the description and would definitely understand why, but why did it hurt a little bit?

Noticing the change of expression on her face, Jude grabs onto her hand, pressing a soft, tender kiss on her knuckles.

"-but in a good way!" He adds quickly, eyes raised in panic.

Of course, the words she'd just uttered were way harsher in comparison to his, though it being said explicitly and clearly for the first time since they'd met, it stung like a bitch- to y/n, at least.

"You would always say or do something that riled me up so badly. I remember when you first started interviewing me- and you'd switch from snarky comments off camera to acting like the sweetest, most kind person to me. I thought; 'Oh? So, this is how two-faced she can be?'."

"But, you'd also have moments where you'd confuse me so much." Jude looks up, leaning in to press multiple, back-to-back kisses on her temple.

"When?" She asks, eyes fluttering as she soaks up the loving, sweet gesture.

"Remember that night in- Naples? When you panicked about someone breaking into your hotel room?" Jude recalls, absentmindedly pulling her closer into his side, on the couch.

"Mhm, I remember- I was so embarrassed about it.. I thought I'd have to book it out of your room immediately before you'd start making fun of me.."

"I was not going to make fun of you. That's what you thought of me?"

"I didn't know! We were bickering like- every damn second up until that point."

"No, I was genuinely surprised at first, but when you left, I couldn't even sleep properly, and I didn’t even know why..”

"Well, what's the annoying part?"

She asks, watching Jude's fingers get entangled with hers, making her grin a little.

"You were annoying in a way- which I couldn't shake my thoughts away from you if something had happened that specific day back then. I couldn't put it into words, tried to rack my brain so many times, over and over.."

"You had this long-lasting presence, and the way you spoke and acted practically got ingrained into my memory for me to repeat every night. This definitely got worse when I moved in here.."

Making eye contact again, she nods in understanding, grasping the hem of his shirt to play with.

"You thought of me, every night?" She grins, smug look replacing her once confused and sad expression.

"I knew this would enlarge your ego.." Jude chuckles, placing another kiss on her cheekbone, before he's interrupted by a text message popping up on his phone.

"Who is it?" y/n asks, glancing up when Jude shows her the screen.

"It's my mum.." He simply says, eyes skimming over the lengthy message. After a minute of silence, he looks back at his curious girlfriend.

"She's just trying to comfort me like you have been. Asks if she can come over for tea.." He informs, hand reaching to wipe away a single fallen lash stuck on her cheek.

"Oh, that's sweet. Of course she can-.." y/n trails off, eyes darting away from the iPhone and onto her lap. Fingers starting to fidget with the loose threads on her used sweatpants.

Getting a comforting, reassuring text message from your own mother..

Something the young girl could not even dream of. Let alone speak to her own mother ever again, at least in this lifetime.

The thought makes her smile uncomfortably, though there's absolutely no positive emotion behind it, skin around her eyes crinkling in fake happiness.

"y/n?" Jude whispers, noticing the change in her demeanor and the tensing of her shoulders.

"Hm?" She hums back, her eyes darting up and locking with his brown ones.

"You okay?"

Jude is in love, not stupid.

Seeing his girlfriend's entire mood change, just at the mention of his mother isn't something he wants to just skim over.

There was absolutely nothing going on between her and his mother. In fact, after his parents had been informed of their oldest son's affection for her, they welcomed her into the family within a heartbeat.

It wasn't either of the two who told them, instead- y/n's understandably protective father had told them. This came after he'd talked to Jude privately, grilling him with questions only a father would make up- and of course the intentions question was asked, like they weren't just young people trying to figure out their lives.

In reality, her father had long approved of the idea of the two young adults having a relationship. The times he was home and present with them, he'd slowly noticed the way they had warmed up to each other.

Not to forget, months ago, his daughter had burst into his office- asking for him to handle something for her. Puzzled at his own daughter needing legal help for 'online defamation, because they think I’m dating that douche', he'd dropped everything to listen to her- only to end up laughing at the end of her dramatic and insulting (towards Jude, of course) speech.

It wasn't difficult, as an experienced adult, to guess where the young adults' relationship would go from there.

"y/n.." Jude calls out again, placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking slightly to snap her out of her thoughts when she doesn't reply.

"I'm just thinking.." She finally says, wanting to lie- but realizing that he is, in fact, her boyfriend now- it might be better in the long run, to be honest.

"About what?" His eyes flicker up, a warm hand pulling her in closer. Realizing the comfort or warmth she might need to open up and speak.

"I just feel sad.." The confession is quiet, looking down, she grasps onto the hem of her sweater. Trying to keep her emotions at bay, because this conversation was about comforting him, and not about trauma dumping on the already upset boy, she thought.

Jude blinks, looking over his girlfriend's defeated figure. The gears in his head twist and turn, trying to decipher what she meant with her words.

"Do you want to tell me why?" He asks, trailing a hand up, pinching her chin with his pointer finger and thumb, raising her head to make eye contact.

Her eyes glimmer with emotion when they lock with his chocolate brown ones, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tries to contain the tremble of her lips.

Though, it's insanely difficult, especially when multiple emotions are swirling around her mind, and the suppressing of the tears causes a sharp pain to pass through her temples.

She grunts softly, not being able to hold back anymore, the pressure in her head worsening.

Tears pool against her waterline, and she closes her eyes. Allowing a soft whimper to escape her lips, tension dropping from her shoulders, as y/n stops suppressing her emotions.

Jude's eyes widen, his breath hitching in surprise as he watches his new love practically crumble in front of him.

"Oh, baby.." Jude coos breathily, the soft, foreign term of endearment falling from his plump lips.

He moves his hands immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her onto his lap.

y/n instantly presses her face against his shoulder, grasping onto the fabric of his shirt. Her tears darken the blue shirt, as Jude's hand rubs against her back in a tender manner.

"You're okay, honey.." He whispers, pressing multiple kisses along her temple and cheek, rubbing soft, soothing circles on her back.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong, hm?" He soothes, his voice deeper than usual, offering sweet and reassuring words to the crying girl.

"I- don't even remember how her voice sounded or what her personality was like.." I whisper, raising my palms to harshly wipe my annoying tears away. They just kept pouring out of my eyes like the damn Niagara Falls..

"Look at me, love.." Jude whispers tenderly, grabbing my wrist to remove my hands from my face. I can't help but feel tingles down my spine at the word he refers to me with.

The Brum accent combined with his deep, raspy evening voice- melting my heart instantly. It distracts me from my breakdown for a single moment, and I shift my eyes back to his, just like he asks me to.

"Take a deep breath for me, yeah?" He says, pressing a kiss on the back of my hand.

I nod at his words, taking a single, deep breath, before releasing when he tells me to..

"Good- you're so good for me, baby.." He gives me a small, satisfied smile, kissing my cheek again. He moves his hands, pulling my head back onto his chest, running his hand down my back.

"This okay?" He asks, making me nod. I sigh again, nuzzling my face against his hard chest.

I had just spilled my entire heart out to the boy whom I had sworn to hate for the rest of my life, only a few weeks ago.

The topic wasn't something I had openly talked about since I was a teenager in my psychologist's office back in London. It hurt way too much to talk about with friends, and it felt like opening up a bigger wound when speaking to my own family about it.

I mean, it couldn't ever get easy- talking about losing your blood and flesh, let alone your own mother. In my case, the person who had gone through hours of labor and delivery- creating me from her own nutrients and energy.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever comfortably tell someone that my mother had passed away in a violent car crash.

An accident that had occurred only because little five-year-old me wanted my mom at my graduation to primary school.

I had gone through years and years of therapy, though, of course, to me nothing could actually take away the wound and grief it had caused a young me.

I couldn't sleep some nights, mind trying to remember anything about my mom. Since I had lost her so young, I could only recall her face from old photographs and home videos taken by my dad.

"Yeah.." I mutter, eyes closing as I try to ground myself. Taking in the beating of Jude's heart against my ear and his musky cologne.

"Need anything?"

"No, just you.."

I feel his chest vibrating as he chuckles, the sound reaching my ears and filling me with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

"I'm here, love. Take your time, and we'll wash up before my mum comes over.." I feel his hand against my back, caressing from my nape all the way to the small of my back.

I hum in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as I try to calm down, taking my surroundings in.

"Okay.."

'Meet me in the lobby'

'Security won't stop you'

'We have free time for a couple hours'

I stare at the incoming text messages, my eyes darting to the sender. Only to read Jude's contact name.

I sit up from my bed, slipping on the hotel slippers immediately, and walk over to the bathroom. Trying to fix my appearance before I realize I don't know what I'm getting ready for.

I snatch my phone from the bathroom sink, sending a quick message back to Jude. I wait for a couple seconds, busy with applying mascara, until I hear a notification sound.

'For some dessert, love'

'Dress casual, I'm in sweats and a jacket'

'I don't want to look like a fool next to you'

I chuckle at the reply, nodding as if he can see me before sending a quick message back.

I eventually make my way down to the lobby, looking around and trying to be as discreet as possible. Hoping other staff members and players didn't think of going down as well.

So far, the only people who had figured us out were Luis and Lina. I mean, I couldn't exactly keep it that much of a secret after they'd sneaked a glance at my home screen when I had left to print something.

They had been nosy after seeing someone text me, and when they read that it was Jude- I could've sworn they died and came back to life in a span of two minutes.

I look around quickly when I step out of the elevator, finally catching a familiar black puffer jacket. I grin to myself, making a beeline towards him, and whispering a small 'boo!' when I touch his shoulder from behind.

"Hey! Shhh.." His eyes enlarge comically, and I feel him grab onto my hands almost instantly.

"I'm quiet.." I whisper, giving him a toothy smile as he drags me out of the hotel lobby, out onto the streets of Valencia.

I allow Jude to walk in front of me, our hands intertwined, as he suddenly stops in a less busy area of the street.

I raise my brows as he turns around, watching a smile form on his handsome face.

"Hi?" I begin, pulling a confused face.

"Hi.." He replies, chuckling softly, before he pulls me into a warm embrace. His breath hitting my neck as he plants a kiss on my lips and cheek.

"I missed you." Jude says, pulling back to look at me, while his arms encircle my waist, keeping me warm.

"Well, you could have seen me a couple hours ago, after the match- but you stormed into the changing room after you got that red card.."

I sigh, recalling the absolute shitshow of a match against Valencia a couple hours ago. The referee couldn't do his fucking job, there were multiple VAR checks, and the blowing of the final whistle- resulted in the disallowance of the winning goal, scored by Jude. Eventually, he got red-carded for dissent.

Nothing surprising, actually..

I watch a guilty expression form on his face, forehead wrinkles showing as he frowns at me.

"Well, I'm sorry about that- did I scare you?"

"No? Why would it scare me? I wanted to punch that referee too.." I make multiple punching movements, hitting Jude on his chest once.

"Hey, hey- don't get violent, little Miss, you can't use physical violence here.."

I chuckle at his change of voice, dropping my hands to my sides, and grabbing his hand.

"Sorry, sir. Any reason you've called me down here?" I tease, watching him smile at me, before he squeezes my hand affectionately.

"Let's get some ice cream. I saw a decent looking place on Google Maps.."

"Oh, what flavors do they have?" I ask, mouth watering at the thought of having good-quality ice cream.

For me, it didn't matter the weather. Ice cream could be consumed any time of year, as long as I craved it.

Jude tugs at my hand, indicating he wants us to start walking to the ice parlor he'd seen. I follow him mindlessly, paying more attention to his words than to where we're going.

"Umh, they have 'chocolate' and 'fresa' and, of course, 'vainilla'.."

I laugh at his sudden use of Spanish, quirking my brow up as he starts naming the basic ice cream flavors one by one.

"Are you just trying to show off how much you've improved your Spanish skills?" A huge smile tugs at my lips, my eyes roaming over his proud, cocky expression.

"No, just slipped out of my mouth. I must be getting the hang of it.."

"Sure, Mister. Now give me the directions in Spanish.."

I tease, trying to challenge him, but chuckle when he shakes his head violently.

"It's just straight this way.."

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his bad excuse.

Watching a small smile form on his lips.

"Sure, let's just go straight ahead then.."

The couple’s very spontaneous ice cream date is ended by the both of them chugging a bottle of water. The once very craved cold and creamy dessert now regretted by how big and sweet their portions were.

"That's a cute bicycle.." y/n mutters, not paying attention to where she's walking. Instead, Jude is holding her hand and looking out while they walk back to their hotel.

"Do you know how to ride a bicycle?" She asks Jude, looking up at the focused boy, busy navigating their way back.

"Of course I can. My dad taught me before I showed interest in football.."

"Mhm, that must've been fun.." She mumbles, fixing her jacket.

While the couple is intrigued by the small, new facts they were learning about each other, they don't notice the very few people walking past them in the streets.

Most of the pedestrians walk in a hurry, minding their own business, on their phone, or listening to music- trying to get home before it gets too dark outside.

Though, sadly, what they also don't notice is, the flash of a camera- directed right at them. Not knowing the predicament that would follow if they were sold off and posted on the internet.

The couple is happy in their own bubble, their hands warm from holding hands, unlike their noses, which froze up in the cold wind.

Just like other pedestrians trying to get back to their hotel, wanting to go unnoticed and undisturbed.

[nor-4]

More dominic fike?

Tags - Somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink.

"I'm sorry baby, i just can't control myself everytime i see you like this.." He whispered with a groan trying to behave himself for disturbing you in your sleep as he slowly pushing up your lacey sleep wear exposing your breast.

It was never an issue to you that dominic comes home late from his gig, as long as you get to stay with him the whole day.

Usually everytime dominic comes home from a very sweaty night the first thing he will do is step inside the bathroom and shower, you made it clear for him that you don't like outside clothes and sweaty skin in the bed. That's understandable and that's the very first reason why he make an effort on doing your wishes instead of making you upset.

Well everything is different tonight some of his assistant keeps on pissing him off, the fans they are overstimulating him, he wants to stop singing mid way just to piss their night off.

On the way home his manager is bugging him saying it's obvious on how bitchy he is earlier while performing how he should fix his attitude, Everyone that would look past him while driving will know how much he wanna scream and curse everyone out.

On your shared home he sees you sleeping so gracefully how every breath you take looks elegant, he just want to ruin you and take his anger out on you.

That's how everything escalated from him stealing a little kisses on your neck to him pulling up your sleep wear pulling your panties to the side as his tip carelessly rubbing through your folds.

You are taking your consciousness as he slowly entering inside of you with the help of your wetness that has been damping your underwear.

"It's just me baby, Oh shit.. I'm sorry if i wake you up this late.." Dominic explains through out his groans as a moan liberated out of your mouth one last thrust before your cunt swallow his whole length.

"You look so beautiful huh?" Him talking you through it waiting for your body to settle and calm on his length, "Can i move now?" He asked before earning a nod from you.

Dominic starts moving in a gently slow pace massaging both of your breasts leaving out a kisses between it was all calm sweet it was a very loving kind of touches. Until all the memories from earlier came back damping into him like a bucket full of ice.

With that he starts thrusting into you in a lot more faster pace very far away from his pace earlier, which makes your boobs move same as the lace of your sleep wear is moving down from your shoulders to your arms as you stretched it out to hold on dominic's arms.

"You must be waiting for me for too long, don't worry baby I'll ditch them tomorrow.." He reassured you stopping mid way to pull both of your legs to hang on his arms before completely slamming into you making a tears of pleasure come out of your eyes as you squint completely wetting your lashes.

"You look so good baby, my cry baby." he remarked as you are starting to hear the bed bang into the wall even though there's already a pillow separating both of them, it's not like you care about the neighbors. Both of you live in a very romantic place and both of you know damn well they did the same thing you guys are doing right now every night so all of you call it quits.

"I'm gonna cum dom.." You muttered through out the moans as your nails is starting to grip on his biceps, "Cum for me baby, I'll hold mine i want you to cum for me twice before i do." he remarked leaving out a smile before attacking out your neck removing his other arm from your leg to rub down your clit as his thrust grew more harder as you release on him.

You didn't hear what he said as you yelp out in confusion when he hang both of your legs into his shoulder and thrusting up into you again holding your waist in place as you cried out in pleasure completely wetting your cheeks.

He raised his head up out of pleasure before seeing your reflection in the mirror that is placed in the ceiling, "You're glowing, look at you from the top don't you look majestic.." he said placing a hand on your cheeks after he gently let go of your legs making you look to your reflection.

It was a short chitchat about him looking down on you and praising you before he lift your waist up again and pound of you like there's no tomorrow, it was not the best position for you making you cover your face out of embarrassment muting out your moans.

"Come on pretty girl don't cover your face, unless you want me to tie your hands up your head.." Dominic warned with a chuckle before sucking up your neck that would leave a bruise as his necklace that has your initial on it is tickling down your breast the same rhythm as his thrust making you unable to talk from the moans washing your thoughts out.

With that dominic adjusted his legs to more comfortable before pouncing into you again finishing both of you undone, "Oh fuck, just put a baby into you love.." he murmured rubbing out your stomach as you are catching your breath, "You will make such a good mom baby.."

"Dom, i missed you.." You weakly said as he snakely hugged you lifting you to sit up with him still sitting on his dick as he coop his face on your neck. "I do too baby, schedule has been fucking me up. I just want to end this and make a family with you.." he rambled which every noise is buzzing down to vibrate on your skin as you gently caress his scalp.

"We will soon love don't worry, we don't have to rush things." You assured him as it has been a very big dream of both of you to build a family and raise everyone out of love and care.

[greygaunt]

How the Slytherin boys would react to jealousy

Theodore Nott

Theo and jealousy? Joined at the hip. When Theo gets jealous, his usually unbothered state turns green and he becomes possessive. Theodore was in the common room with you and the others, you were sat next to him, reading. Adrian Pucey had been giving you the eye for the last half an hour, Theo had clocked. He was not happy. It started as a hand on your thigh. You glanced up, seeing him looking across the room at Adrian. You rolled your eyes at Theo's unnecessary jealousy. It then, progressed. Theo wasn't happy that Adrian hadn't stopped giving you the eye. He was restless, frustrated and started to simmer with anger. He started squeezing your thigh, and you acknowledged him. You knew if you didn't step in, Theodore would end up with a bloody hand and Adrian wouldn't be able to breathe through his nose. “Theo, come for a smoke?" You asked, standing up in front of him and taking his hands. He grunted in reply, standing up and following you, arms around your shoulders. You got outside onto the courtyard when Theo started. “God! He would not take his eyes off you. He's lucky I didn't-" “Theo. I don't care." You interrupted him and silenced him with a kiss, knotting your hands into his hair. You smiled as he groaned into your lips.

Blaise Zabini

Blaise? Jealous? Yes. You were his. He worked hard to actually get you to be his, and he didn't like people treating you like you weren't his. Things escalated at the Slug Club Christmas dinner, you were sat with Blaise enjoying your dessert and having a conversation with Hermione about her parents. You were eating when Cormac McLaggen interrupted you. “You've got some cream on your nose." He smirked as you blushed. Blaise looked up from his glass and gently took your chin in his hand, turning your face so he could remove the cream. He half smiled at you as you melted into his touch. “You're welcome, beautiful." Cormac interjected. You gave him a polite barely a smile. “Oi. Read the room. She's not yours." You watched as Blaise looked over at Cormac. Cormac scoffed in reply and rolled his eyes. You watched as the cogs in Blaise's brain started turning. "Blaise, don't." You whispered. Too late. A profiterole had hit Cormac square in the forehead. You snorted as he ran away, Blaise squeezing your thigh and acting like nothing had happened. Feigned innocence, always.

Draco Malfoy

Draco is a moody kind of jealous. He gets envious. You found it so easy to just float above everything that frustrated him. Everyone admired that about you. Apart from him. He didn't understand how things just didn't bother you. He doesn't get jealous of others, just you. His envy comes from a place of discomfort, he is jealous of the letters you receive from your mum every week, and the smiles you get from all the professors. He wishes he shone like you. You can tell when he is second guessing himself. Instead of getting angry or upset with his frustrations, he pours them all into love for you. You know, without him needing to tell you. You spend time together in the astronomy tower, sharing conversations about your day or the class work you have. He eventually stops talking and you don't ask why, you just let him kiss you. You share a heated, tangled kiss fuelled with emotion, his heart melts and yours swells. As much as he is envious of you being so regulated, he doesn't know that you're envious of his passion, and the way he spits like an agitated flame.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo isn't usually the jealous type. He's secure, confident and knows that you’re infatuated with him, as he is you. Despite this, sometimes he can't help himself. Cormac fucking Mc Laggen had been pining after you for weeks, despite you making it very obvious you were with Enzo. He didn't seem to take the hint. Enzo quietly stewed as he watched McLaggen take another approach, putting a hand on your shoulder and sitting next to you. Enzo began to boil under the surface. He walked over to where you were sat, shooting daggers into the back of Cormac’s head with his eyes. "Is McLaggen bothering you, love?" McLaggen turned to look at Enzo and rolled his eyes. “Seems like you're interrupting, mate." Enzo's eyes narrowed, keeping his cool but you knew steam would be coming from his ears in seconds if Cormac didn't take the hint. “Take a hint, mate." Enzo laced your fingers with his, pulling you to your feet and out of the Great Hall.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo enjoys being jealous. I mean, it just gives him an excuse to show off his right hook. People just love to piss him off. What he didn't expect - was you being the jealous one. Slytherin had won a quidditch match that morning, and there was a party going on in the common room. A sea of green bodies all dancing, the music making the walls shake. You were slightly buzzed, dancing with Mattheo. “I'm gonna get some air." You said, motioning to your mouth with your fingers, mimicking a cigarette. You took Theo with you, just to the courtyard and you shared a cigarette. Heading back into the common room, Theo pointed out a girl in the year below trying to give Mattheo a drink, pressing herself to his chest. He looked very disinterested. “Poor girl, what a mistake she's made." Theo muttered as he shook his head and walked away towards Lorenzo, watching you make a beeline for the girl. “Excuse me? Go and slobber somewhere else." Mattheo's eyebrows raised as he watched you shoo away the girl, pride beaming from his eyes. “Damn. You're a bitch when you're buzzed." You looked at him and put your hands on his chest. “No, I'm a bitch when people touch what's mine." He smirked down at you, putting his hands on your hips. “I'm yours, am I?" You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you are." You both shared a drunken kiss, absorbing the atmosphere of the party and being surrounded by your friends. Mattheo's ego was certainly inflated.

[vipwinnie]

Silence treatment

Draco malfoy x reader

Summary: Draco's actions have gone too far, so you decide to ignore him

At the end of the day you went as usual to join your boyfriend, Draco, in the Hall. When you finally saw him, you saw him with Crabbe and Goyle intimidating a Gryffindor much younger than them, probably in the first or second year. Draco always had this reputation as a stalker. It was in his character to act like a bully, and yet that hadn't stopped you from going out with him. Ever since you got together with him, you made him swear to never harass anyone again. Because harassing someone was like a crime to you, you were so sensitive about this subject. And as you could see now it was just empty promises. So you don't waste your time. You had watched helplessly as your boyfriend, Draco, harassed a young boy in the street. Anger boiled inside you, and you couldn't stand idly by in the face of this cruelty. Tears of sadness and rage beaded down your cheeks as you turned towards Drac. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, how can you be so mean? This boy hasn't done anything to you, and yet you treat them like this? I can't stand this." Draco, surprised by your intervention, tries to defend himself. "It was just a joke, you're exaggerating! Why are you getting into my business?" Your eyes fill with cold determination. You knew you couldn't tolerate such cruel behavior. "It wasn't a joke, Draco. It was harassment, pure and simple. I can't be with someone who behaves like that." Draco, realizing the extent of his actions, tried to apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would go this far...I didn't want to lose you."

You shook your head, arms crossed, leaving no room for his excuses. "Your apology isn't enough, Draco. You need to think about your actions and the impact they have on others. I can't be with someone who doesn't understand that." Without a backward glance, you walk away, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts and remorse. He bit his fingers as he realized that he had lost something precious because of his irresponsible behavior.

After your argument, you went straight to your room, you didn't come out even to go eat, Draco had definitely ruined your appetite. The next morning, after thinking all night about what you were going to do to Draco, you finally decided to have the silence treatment. So that he understands the lesson.

When you join him at the breakfast table, you can feel his eyes on you, looking for a way to start a conversation. Yesterday, you witnessed harassment and it deeply affected you. You can't just erase it. He cleared his throat, trying to find the courage to speak. "Hey, uh... about yesterday, I wanted to talk to you." You keep your gaze fixed on your plate, refusing to meet his gaze. Silence hangs in the air, a heavy barrier between you. "I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have acted that way. I'm really sorry." He continues, his voice full of remorse. You remain silent, your anger and your disappointment boils inside you. He crossed the line and that wasn't something you couldn't easily forgive. He shyly reaches out and places his hand on top of yours. "Please listen to me. I regret my actions. It was a moment of weakness and I deeply regret it." You remove your hand, giving him a cold look. Your silence speaks volumes, reflecting your discontent and the distance you feel.

He sighs, shoulders slumping. "I understand that you're upset and I deserve it. But I want to make things right, to show you that I'm capable of change." You didn't respond, choosing instead to focus on your breakfast. It's clear that this conversation is far from over, but for now, you've made your decision. As you continue to eat in silence, the atmosphere remains heavy with unresolved emotions.

The rest of the day passed quietly, you had neither encountered Draco in the corridors nor in the hall for lunch. And yet his absence could not have lasted. Draco was anxiously awaiting your arrival “Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened. I acted stupidly and I sincerely regret it. I've been waiting here for hours, just to talk to you and ask you to forgive me. Please just give me a chance to explain.” When you see him standing there, his eyes full of sadness and hope, you pretend not to notice. “I know I screwed up. But please don't treat me like that. I can't do without you, you are everything to me. I'm ready to change, to do whatever it takes to make you happy. Please come back to me.” he continued But you decide to continue on your way by continuing to ignore him. “You are my reason for living, my sun in the darkness. Without you, my life is empty. I feel lost, broken. I would give anything to get you back. I beg you, don't leave me in this state. I can’t bear to see you indifferent to my grief.” You should admit to him that you liked these words but he had to realize his act once and for all. So you decide once again to remain silent. “I know I made a huge mistake. But I love you so much, I would give anything to prove to you that I can change. I am ready to compromise, to work on myself. I just want you to forgive me, to give me another chance." You couldn't resist this scene you were about to break down and forgive him everything but you remember why you didn't talk to him and it's there that you will find the strength to look away from this scene.

“Please don’t reject me like this. I'm willing to do anything to get you back. I know I hurt your heart, but I promise to fix it. I can't imagine my life without you. I beg you, speak to me, tell me that you forgive me. ”

Trying everything for everything. He approached you, his voice filled with despair, and gently laid his hand on your face, caressing your cheek. ”If you change your mind, meet me tomorrow night in the astronomy tower, I will wait for you all night if I have to, I love you my love. ”And so he withdrew his hand and left like a ghost, his eyes looking down on the ground.

The next morning, you hadn’t spoken to Draco since yesterday’s interaction, and you hadn’t seen him at any meals. It pained you, her condition yesterday afternoon after you left school hurt my heart so much. And you had to admit that you miss him so much, that night was for you a real ordeal without him by your side. You were thinking about what he had told you yesterday: “Meet me tomorrow night in the astronomy tower, I’ll wait for you all night if I have to”. It was then decided you can't stand this situation anymore, you will go to him and you will forgive him.

That evening you were on your way to the astronomy tower, and as you walked through the door, you fell face to face with a neat draco holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Before he could say anything, he kissed me full on the mouth, dropping the bouquet on the floor. You didn't waste time and responded directly to this fiery kiss. You definitely missed him so much. After letting go due to lack of breath. He then began to speak, looking you straight in the eyes: “My love, I stand before you today with a heavy and remorseful heart. I know that I have made mistakes, that my actions have caused pain and sadness in your heart. I want you to know how sorry I am. I promise you today that I will change. I will work on myself, on my faults and my weaknesses. I will do everything in my power to become the man you deserve, the one who will make you happy every day of your life. I want you to know that you are the most important person in my life. I can't imagine a world without you. Please forgive me for my past mistakes. I humbly ask you to give me a chance to redeem myself, to show you that my love for you is sincere and true. I love you, and I want you to know that my love for you is infinite. Forgive me, my love, and let me show you how I can be the man you need. When he was finished you had tears in your eyes, and you kissed him with all your strength, jumping into his arms. What I knew for sure was that he wasn't going to do it again any time soon.

[yandere-kokeshi]

yandere mw2 characters with a reader who tries running away? (price, ghost, and alejandro)

Warning: punishments and angry boys.

A/N: hope you enjoy :]!

Captain “Price” John:

Less pleased about the incident. Cursing out, throwing out his cigar before checking your location.

He's immediately right behind you, yelling your name while catching up to you; immediately grasping your shirt, pulling you onto his shoulder, and taking you back home from the long journey that you started.

Once at home, Price is staying calm, a type of unnerving calm that's extremely uncomfortable. He's sent you to your room, like a child, and doesn't come in till he calms down to talk to you.

— "Why can't you see that I need to protect you?" He asked sternly, arms crossed against his chest as he looks at you sitting on the bed.

You stayed silent — like you always did. You heard him sigh before feeling the weight next to you deepen, signaling he was right next to you. "I just want to protect you. This is for your greater good. I don't want to do the extra mile with you, but if I have to. I will."

His reaction is very... dad like. While he does forgive you, he will not let you get away with it without consequences.

The 'extra mile' is stripping your privacy and removing your social life, completely.

That means that you won't be able to contact any of your friends, family, or simply anyone you enjoy time with. As well as for privacy, you won't be allowed to be alone for more than 2 minutes; having him constantly following you like some type of guard dog.

Need to make yourself breakfast? Let him do it. He's better at cooking; plus, you might hurt youself. Want to watch TV? Sure, just let him sit beside you. Want to head out and do a run? Maybe, depends on the weather. Even then, he's coming along.

While Price is easy to forgive, it doesn't mean he forgets. If the two of you get into a fight, he will bring it back up and threaten you with it. Possibly, add that he should've done more.

Although, the worse he will do is chain you to the bed. Possibly take away any electronics and things that bring you joy (ex: reading books, sleeping with stuffed animals, eating sweets, etc.)

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Expected it. Already thought it through, he's already ahead of you, chasing you down with his swift moves. He's efficient to know exactly where you are. The minute you think he's away, he's right behind you, a strong hand against your lower back as he carries you back to the shared home.

At first, he's angry — upset that you would thrash and run off when he has to protect you. But, after realizing that yelling was not doing so well; he was forced to put himself in your shoes.

I mean... waking up in a random bed, in the middle of nowhere, and somebody you thought you could trust; it's a big deal to process.

That being said, he will leave you alone, then come back with dinner an hour later. Sitting down in the bedroom with you and looking at you with a intense look.

— "Look, you don't have to speak. That's fine. Just let me talk." He stated, grabbing a chair and scooting it closer to the bed, sitting on it with a sigh and a few pops coming from his knees:

"I understand you're upset. But I need you to understand I'm doing this to protect you. For this reason, because of what happened today, I'll need to some change things."

His reaction is more... stricter after this incident.

The 'change' around the house consists of him being too over your shoulder; stripping your privacy by 90%.

Being in the bathroom for more than 5 minutes? He's knocking on the door, asking if things are fine. Want to go outside? Sure, but he has to be with you. Showering alone? Yeah, no. He's either joining you (with consent) or staying the in bedroom to watch you.

All the windows and doors are placed under severe locks, and some of them are insanely protected to the point its almost bolted shut.

At night, his grip around you is much tighter. He's always staying up later, watching you as you read books in bed or TV, whichever one you prefer. He'll try to strike up a conversation, watching your body language and skills.

While he is mad, he won't hold it up against you. Ghost would rather forget about it and move on. That doesn't mean he forgets. If this does happen again, the consequences are not lighter, rather semi-harsher.

Alejandro “Colonel” Vargas:

Stunned and displeased. At first, he was shocked; he thought you didn't have the guts. But, what did he know?

Much like the others, he's completely onto you. A trained soldier who's much faster than you. He's catching up with you, like a game of cat and mouse that's about to end.

In a second, you're caught in his hold, and quickly pulls you into a forced hug. him insisting that you need to calm down.

Sure, he's angry — you could've gotten hurt. Or worse. But, he hides it; doesn't show it to scare you or make the situation worse than it is.

Immediately, he's giving you space. He's going outside, leaving you alone in the house to think it through before approaching you with your favorite food and drink.

— "I understand you're scared, I know you're confused, mi amor. I do." He stated, crouching in front of you with his hands surrendering in a 'peace offering'.

He looked at you, watching your lip tremble with uncertainty. He reached over and grasped your hand, watching your body language before continuing to talk.

"But you don't have to be. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? What you did today, isn't your fault."

While he does blame the two of you, he mostly blames himself. Much like Ghost, he forced himself into your shoes; witnessing your confusion and uncertainty about the situation.

His reaction is guilty, and anger. They're both portrayed as him, he's upset at himself for not showing you he's not capable of protecting and loving you. While his reaction is more different from the others, he's more concerned about your opinion of him.

Though, he will do extra things to make this doesn't happen again. He'll have Rudy come over more, and have cameras set outside. Specifically in the entry and exit areas.

Certain windows and doors are bolted shut. The doors he and Rudy come in have certain locks and passcodes.

Just like the others, he will be more observant and coddled around you. If you decide to cook, he has to be in the same room or participate in it. Wanna head outside and shop? Sure, just don't shove his hands around your lower waist or back. Let it stay where he wants to put it.

During the night, he makes sure to hold your hand and cover you more. Kissing you and showing you he's not a threat. Buying you things and spoiling you more than he should. But, you deserve it.

Although, he will give hints that the next time you do this, he will make sure everything will be a bit more difficult.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. Stay well!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[princess-nobody]

Neytiri's inability to accept Metkayina culture, and why I LOVE it

Sadly Neytiri didn't play a huge role in ATWOW, which though is upsetting as a fan of her makes sense since the movie isn't really about her and is more so about the new generation. However, one aspect of her characterization that is prevalent in both the deleted scenes and the leaked early script is the fact that out of all the Sullys, she is the one that struggles the most in assimilating to the Metkayina lifestyle.

I adore this detail because it is such a deep understanding of who Neytiri is as a person, as well as a representation of all she has been through in her life. Neytiri, at her core, is a woman that dislikes change and views it as a harbinger of the worst to come. She is a woman that cannot be seperated from her culture and lifestyle as an Omatikaya because of how much of her indentity has been molded by it, and the few times she has been seperated from it has been by force.

For example: her inability to learn how to ride ilu. Riding ilu is essential in Metkayina culture because it is the most baseline way to hunt, and as Tonowari states, being unable to ride one makes you useless because you can't hunt. In one of the deleted scenes, Neytiri is trying to learn to ride ilu with Ronal but can't seem to get it down, only to eventually give up out of frustration. Ronal even makes sure to reiterate to her that ilu is not ikran, and ilu cannot fly, because fundamentally Neytiri is approaching riding ilu the way you would ride ikran.

The obvious answer as to why she does this is muscle memory, to Neytiri this would be like someone who rides bicycles trying to learn how to ride a unicycle – it may be similar, but approaching it the same way will yield wrong results. However I feel it is also because her experiences with ikran and losing her own has made her subconsciously hostile towards learning a new way of riding, because in her mind it is her again being seperated from her ikran. Seze's death was obviously traumatic to her, in that moment she not only lost a dear ally, but was forcibly seperated from a part of her culture and lifestyle by invaders.

So naturally, now that she has a new ikran, even if she wants to learn how to ride a different mount, her body won't let her. Her subconscious won't allow her to be seperated from the one thing she has left from her people since their relocation. I believe Neytiri learns how to hunt with her ikran, developing a diving technique which means she no longer needs to learn how to ride ilu. This not only feels very in character for her, but I also think it's just a sweet way to allow her to keep this part of her while also allowing her to contribute to the Metkayina way of life.

Another example of this is the bombing of the Omatikaya hometree – again, Neytiri was forcibly removed from a part of her lifestyle and culture against her will by outsiders. So her hostility to leaving their new hometree, even if it is for their own safety, makes more than enough sense. To her, she is yet again being ripped away from a part of her, yet again being forced out her culture and made to abandon a significant part of being of the Omatikaya. I wouldn't be surprised if she still struggles with being a part of the Metkayina clan in the coming few movies, because out of her whole family she is the one with the least positive experiences in change.

Throughout both movies, and some non movie pieces of media, change has brought almost nothing good to Neytiri personally, and accepting change has lead to more losses than wins. Her children are just that, children, so even through homesickness, they view Awa'atlu as a new start, because they never had to go through the loss of the first hometree, nor any of the losses Neytiri faced in the first film. Jake's entire character has been defined by him learning new cultures and ways of life, so to him, leaving the Omatikaya and seeking refuge with the Metkayina isn't nearly the life shattering decision it is for Neytiri; he's done it before, he can easily do it again. Neytiri though? Of course it would all be too much for her, and I doubt she'll ever fully integrate into Metkayina life.

TLDR: Neytiri's inability to assimilate to Metkayina life is very in character and I really like it actually. I wish it was touched on more but sadly there is no nine hour avatar cut so that won't ever happen. 😔

[bengiyo]

Love Sea: Tongrak is Kind of an Asshole, and I Like It

I watched this yesterday with some friends, so my Stray Thoughts were a little scattered because we were talking about BL conventions, Thailand's tourism goals, and who MAME was. Now, with some time to think, I wanna talk about my favorite thing: Tongrak is a rich asshole. I love this for Fort and Peat.

He Looks Down on People Poorer Than Him

We open with Tongrak dressed inappropriately for his trip and the weather, whining on his phone, just to show his disdain for even being sent on this vacation.

Then when he first arrives on the island, he looks around at people enjoying themselves and a sign they dedicated to their home reading "Heaven on Earth" and immediately called it hell. This is these people's home! He is a guest! I deal with this show in my home city all the time. Be respectful!

Next, the first thing he does is start shouting at Mahasamut about the motorcycle and his luggage. He doesn't slow down to ask if Mut can speak the central dialect, or if there are alternative modes of transport. Instead he just screams at the man and then starts talking shit in front of him like he can't understand what is being said. I give Americans shit for doing this in other countries, and I give northerners shit for acting like they can't understand our accents down here along the Gulf.

He was rude about that bar, too. He went there for attention, and got pissed at the idea that people there might be into Mut more.tjsn him. He then stormed off without paying for his drink!

This man is so stubborn and petty that he literally just starts sending him thousands of baht instead of just asking him to speak in the same dialect as him. I'm totally with Mut on not speaking to him nicely until Tongrak did it first. What's so wild about this scene is that it's text that Rak is mad that his condescension is having no effect.

Mahasamut is Responding to Tongrak's Energy

Mut is just responding to what Rak is giving him, and is doing everyone a favor by bearing the brunt of this spoiled man's fits. He was even kind enough to let this man know right away that he could understand him.

The big thing for me is he can see when Rak is trying to get one over on him and turns that around. Rak tried to play like he had the upper hand sexually and felt played. He tried to play about being full and got played.

We see that the people of the island admire Tongrak, and he's involved in their lives. He's clearly playing a role here that Rak's friends hired him to play to help their cranky friend relax and finish his book.

I also like that Mut has made it clearly he is down to fuck with Rak whether he pays for it or not, because Rak is trying to hook up with someone for inspiration for his novel. I like that he removed the wealth component there, because it's clear Rak is used to throwing money at all of his problems.

Finally, Mut stopped immediately when he realized he'd actually scared and upset Rak. He doesn't actually want to hurt this man.

Why This Rocks for Peat and Fort

These two found a good rhythm in Love in the Air. They're good at this form of asymmetric bickering and flirtation. However, this time Peat gets to play the older, richer character. It's fun for me, because I think there's going to be a bunch of transference from LITA that covers how much of a jerk Rak is being to others.

I am glad that these two aren't reprising the same characters, and are being given a reasonable way to take advantage of their existing dynamic and tools. It's interesting that these guys can tap into similar beats without it feeling like the same characters.

On the Colorism

I see it, and it's there. However, I don't think MAME is an outlier in using it in her shows. There's a really rough sequence in Fish Upon The Sky (with Neo no less) that comes to mind immediately. I also just think that the skin tone stuff seems built in to a lot of the works we encounter (especially considering that some of these guys are literally brand ambassadors for skin lightening products or clinics). I think there's something to say about the way Mut is teasing Rak with a country bumpkin bit that could almost be read as race play, and there's maybe something to unpack there with far more nuance than I think we normally bring to BL.

But hey, while I have you here, now's a good time to say that if we want to tackle how race affects the queer experience, For The Boys is right there!

[kaldurahms-lover]

Hello, can I request Sal fisher x gn!reader, maybe a one shot about Sal showing y/n his face for the first time

AGH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT WJSHSJHS

Pairing: Sal Fisher x Reader

Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, sal's face oops, i kinda fucked up the different tenses but i cannot be bothered to fix it, very minor swearing, not proofread.

Word Count: 773

A/N: takes place when Sal and the reader would be around 17 and have known each other for like two years

Sal knew he had to let y/n see his face at some point. They were the closest friend he had. (Larry doesn't count, Larry's family.) He knew in the back of his mind that it made no sense for the person he's closest to to be the last one in their friend group to see him without the prosthetic, hell, even Neil had seen him (i know in canon only his dad, larry, ash, and dr. enon have seen him. ssssshhh). He had no clue why he hadn't shown them besides his romantic feelings for them, they would never judge him. So when he heard them telling Todd how they felt like he didn't trust them...

"I just don't understand. It's his decision and I don't want him to show me if he isn't comfortable with it. But thats what hurts, is that he isn't comfortable with it. I love Sal, he's my best friend and I would do anything for him, I just can't help but feel like he doesn't trust me. And I know I sound terrible, being upset that someone I care about isn't ready to unpack their trauma with me, but I can't help it."

He knew something had to change.

Y/n was over within minutes, making the quick trip up from apartment 304. Sal ushered them into his room quickly, wanting to do this before his dad got home. They were obviously very confused, sitting down on his bed and asking if everything was okay.

"Do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

Y/n was taken aback by his blunt question. "Sal, what?"

"I heard you talking to Todd, y/n."

"Oh. Sal, I'm not upset with you, I didn't mean anything by it–"

He cut them off. "I know. I'm gonna ask again, do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

y/n gulped. "Sometimes I feel like maybe you don't. But who you take your prosthetic off around his completely your choice, I don't want you to do it just because you heard me say something to Todd, I want you to do it because you trust me and want me to see you."

"Thats the thing! I don't know why I don't want you to see me. You're my best friend, and I fucking love you, and you should've seen me years ago."

Y/n sighed. "It's okay. I promise it's okay."

Sal doesn't say anything, he just unclips his mask. Before Y/n can even realize what's happening, Sal's hand is the only thing holding his prosthetic against his face. He lowers it slowly, freely presenting his face, every scar, every bit of missing skin, the way it's now much more obvious that one of his eyes is also a prosthetic. His eyes are down, not wanting to see their reaction despite willingly removing his armor.

"Sal..."

"I know. It's not pretty."

y/n put their hands up and moved their head back as if offended. "Not at all what i was going to say. You're so pretty. In a very unconventional way... but theres nothing wrong with how you look. Can i..." Their hands reach out to cup his face, but they keep their distance until they have permission.

He nods and suddenly they're holding him so gently, as if they're afraid he might break under their touch. And as they softly caress his scarred skin, Sal melts. In fact, he gets so lost in the moment that it takes him a moment to realize they're talking to him.

"Sal? You still with me here?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah I'm just... processing. No one's ever really had anything nice to say about me taking this off. I mean they've never had a huge problem but they haven't... they haven't reacted like this."

"Can I kiss you?" The question is sudden, purely formed from y/n thinking out loud. It takes everything in them react at how shocked Sal looks.

"What?"

"i'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or mess up us being friends–"

"No no no, y/n. Yes. Please. For the love of all things good, please."

"Really?"

"Really."

That was all the confirmation y/n needed before their lips were connected. It was awkward, considering the scar tissue and the fact that it was very obviously Sal's first kiss, but it was sweet. When they pulled back, y/n rested their forehead against Sal's.

They smiled. "Hi."

"Hi."

"This what you expected when you asked me to come over?"

"Hoped? Maybe. Expected? Never."

"Learn to expect this every time I come over now."

[myfandomrealitea]

ok I’ll be honest, I was one of the people who approached your safe space post with the mindset “yeah, but…” like, I now whole-heartedly agree that there should absolutely be fandom spaces devoid of real world issues. We all need our spaces to rest and relax. I think I just felt weird about your post because previously ive been in fandom spaces which did operate on the (perfectly fine) rule of ‘no politics’…but ‘politics’ would also include talking about a gay ship or any queer headcannons.

That obviously wasn’t fair to you because you obviously didn’t mean that w/ your post, but I can personally see as to why some people would feel that way if they were in similar fandom spaces. I do still want to reiterate I do agree with your post and I think some of the rebloggers took it…a bit far? Like Jesus Christ some of y’all need to eat a snickers. I also think some of the wording like “bitching about world issues” and “whining about their shitty parents” might’ve thrown me off but that’s not your fault and really a non-issue 🤷🏽‍♀️

you can delete this ask if you want I really won’t mind, I think I can just see as to why there were so many ‘yeah, but…’ rebloggers.

I actually really appreciate asks like this. For a multitude of reasons, but also because it gives really good insight and outer perspective for both me and other people who are aware of or involved in the discussion.

I think what a lot of people don't yet grasp about me is that while I may hold an opposing view to yours (general, not directed), in the vast majority of cases I still very much understand why people would think the way they do and where that thought process comes from and goes.

Its very, very easy to fall into the mindset of thinking that not helping when you have the ability to makes you a bad person or however in/directly causes suffering. Its very easy to be in the mindset of one single individual making a magnitude of difference.

I fully and genuinely understand and comprehend a lot of the points being brought up.

I just don't agree with them and hold a different outlook on those issues.

For example:

Talking about enjoying a queer ship to me is not 'political' in the sense that, personally, if you're a homophobe and upset by generic conversations about queer people, I really could not give a fuck. And if you raise objections to me talking about two dudes kissing, I'm simply going to remove you from my space because clearly it is not beneficial for either of us to share it. And I made it.

Its obviously very very much down to personal discretion to decide where that line is and what that bracket encompasses, but I think the most universal aspect of that safe space post was trying to get people to understand that forcing others to suffer in solidarity isn't activism and that strangers are not obligated to allow you to use them as support and a dumping ground for your needs.

Spreading around videos of people's dead loved ones isn't activism.

Spamming taglines and buzzwords on completely unrelated posts and videos isn't activism.

Relying on complete strangers for emotional and mental support and regulation while dumping vulnerable, graphic, personal information on them is neither safe nor healthy.

People are not obligated to smother or confine their happiness because of your misery. If you're having a bad day you have no right to tell other people they can't be happy in front of you.

A lot of people, mostly white knighters and people of color took the post as "a white privileged pig saying its okay to let racism slide because you want to play your video games" (actual hate mail I received) and that's so laughably and wildly far from the actual basis of the post.

I've had bigots in my servers before. Homophobes or racists who've slipped through the cracks.

You know what happens when they say something homophobic or racist?

They're immediately removed, blocked and reported, and their information is placed in a private document I keep. I issue an apology to the members of the server for their actions, and life goes on.

People are, of course, entitled to take the post as they see fit. They're entitled to their own perspectives and opinions. I'm more than happy to simply focus on the people who have taken support, guidance and solace in the post.

[sambuuck-illuminated]

Hello! I'm contacting you as one of the mods in PokeMagma events. We have noted your amazing contribution to the session, it's really well drawn! ^^ But unfortunately we are concerned about whether the image is suitable for the session-- Like you know everyone is welcome to the session as long as they follow the rules. One of our rules is "keep it PG." We have noted that it's a very vague rule and we actually forgot to add some clarification to it. So we have now added: "Any questionable ship content is off limits, either directly or suggested." This is not your fault! We should've been more clear about it before.

Our problem is that you're giving exposure to your au's that have blankshipping content. Imagine a situation if someone who's not comfortable with blankshipping will find that content via your twitter/tumblr handle and checks the au's that you drew in the session. Everyone trusts that no-one draws blankshipping content on the session so that would come as a surprise to them.

You're still verry much welcomed to the next events if you still want to join us! ^^ I hope that you'll understand our reasoning why we'll remove that drawing from the final edit. Feel free to contact/reply me or @/pokemagma anytime if you want to say or ask anything about the matter! Thank you for joining us!

it is near midnight my time and i am tired and pissed off, so i'm sorry if i'm coming off as harsh

for folks who haven't seen it, this was my piece for the magma. it took me 11 hours to complete, and i was really proud of it. the piece itself is not shippy, it is PG. this piece did not break the magma rules that you published online.

some of my aus have been written for ship, some have been written for gen, some i've written both, some i haven't written at all yet. this is going to come as an absolute mindfuck for some folk here, but i am allowed to draw my aus in whatever way i want. for this piece i drew them as not shippy, out of respect for folk who don't enjoy that content. removing it from the magma edit because i've written ship for it in the past is shit.

and honestly the reasoning of "what if they look you up?" to be fucking bullshit. so what if folk look me up and find content they don't like? fam i trust them to go "oh! this content isn't for me!" and close the fucking browser window like the fucking adults they are. my shit is tagged on my art blog, my ao3 and my twitter - i trust that folk are knowledgeable enough to know how filters work and how to avoid content they don't want to see.

you tell me that i'm welcome to return - how am i welcome to return when you remove something i worked hard on and the reasoning is "you broke rules we didn't tell you about and we can't risk folk looking up your content"? i get that the filthy blankshippers aren't meant to have feelings but friend cmon. if you spent eleven hours on something only for a moderator to remove it because they "forgot to clarify" a rule and they don't want people looking you up, you'd be real upset too.

in addition to this, while i was drawing i was approached by one of your mods. after confirming I wasn't drawing ship art, they proceeded to tell me how many complaints they received because i was there and had been drawing on the last magma

to be clear, my first magma was in june. last month. the shiny pokemon magma. folk were complaining to you about me when i wasn't even drawing submas.

i don't think this is about the art, honestly. i think you just got tired of folk complaining about me and wanted me out