#you could see that patrick got a bit nervous there

[wentzmp3]

They’re talking about things post hiatus and omg the way Pete gets all soft being like ‘i was just kidding’ reassuring Patrick there. I need to leave

[nottsangel]

artrick who end up blackmailing camgirl reader that they know and will tell all their frat bros if she doesn't let them join on a live hehehegehehehejdjd 🔮

— artrick and camgirl!reader

ugh i love dark stuff like this…. patrick and art would be so sneaky with it though, you wouldn’t even realise they’re basically blackmailing you. they’d be so sly and manipulative, each in their own way.

like imagine getting ready, with roughly an hour left before going live again as you were finishing your make-up, already clad in a red lingerie set— a viewer favourite. staring at yourself in the mirror, lost in thought, you clumsily dropped your lipstick when loud knocks resonated through your dorm room, making you flinch momentarily. fuck. you cursed at yourself, instantly knowing it was your two best friends on the other side of the door, as they were the only ones you hung out with but god, their timing couldn’t be worse.

and when you opened the door after quickly putting on a silk robe, the atmosphere immediately felt… different? both patrick and art eyed you with dark, intense eyes, in a way you’d never seen before, and it made you extremely nervous.

“uhm… what’s up? sorry, but i don’t have much time…”

“we know you don’t.” patrick began as they both casually walked into your dorm room as if it was their own. “what? what does— what does that mean?” you gulped. what if they…

“what patrick is trying to say, is that, uhm… we know about your… how do i say this… side hustle.” your eyes widened in an instant, heart pounding in your throat, making each breath a struggle. all the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind, causing your breathing to quicken and your knees to weaken.

“oh… my god.” was all you could utter before both patrick and art rushed over to you when you began to panic, an expression of faux empathy on their faces. “hey, hey, it’s okay. it’s just us that know... for now.” patrick reassured you, muttering the last part under his breath as they both gently set you down on your bed, one on each side of you and both their hands resting on your bare thighs.

“how do you…”

“doesn’t matter how. what matters is that, others might see it, you know? like, our friends? i mean, you know how they are…” patrick moved his hand to your face, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, meeting your glossy eyes as tears welled up. “yeah… we all share the same laptop and we might, you know, forget to delete the browser history and they all would see the stuff you do on there…” art added, his hand inching closer to your cunt, causing you to instinctively spread your legs slightly wider as you tried to control your fast breathing.

“bet they would jerk off while watching you like fucking creeps. hand wrapped around their cocks as they watch you undress… or worse… they might share it with everyone. and soon the entire school would know about the things you do late at night, all alone in your little dorm room.” at this point, panic overtakes you completely as your hands clutch the edge of the bed so tightly that your knuckles turn white and you firmly bite your lip to stifle your sobs.

“shhh, baby, don’t worry. you know we won’t let that happen, right? i mean, we got a plan… but you gotta calm down for us, okay?” art cooed as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek to calm you down and wipe your tears. meanwhile, outside your vision, patrick eyed you lustfully as he bit his lip, feeling his boner grow at the sight of your red lace bra peeking out from your robe. you sniffed, feeling yourself gradually calm down at his reassuring words before nodding, desperate to end this nightmare.

“so uhm… how about you let us join, hm? that way we’ll make sure it’ll never get leaked. i mean… if we’re also involved, we’ll work extra hard to make sure no one else gets to see it, you know?” patrick explains, squeezing your thigh as his eyes shift from yours down to your lips. “yeah, yeah, then it’ll be just as much of a risk for you as it is for us… what do you say, baby?”

and without thinking twice, you nod eagerly while hurriedly wiping your tears with the silk sleeves of your robe, feeling happy and grateful to have such caring best friends who always look out for you… <3

ੈ♡˳

[kai-anderson-whore]

The summoning (jmp x tate Langdon x reader smut)

Summary: you had always been fascinated with serial killers and true crime, one day you decided to try and summon your two favourite killers

Warnings: smut, three way, oral (tate receiving), p in v sex, doggy style 😏, summoning a ghost, ouija board,

Word count: 1,3k (another short one it was supposed to be longer)

A/n: this is a request by @villains-are-hot, thank you for the request and once again I apologise that it was very rushed at the end and I took ages to post this 😊

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

For as long as you could remember you had a unhealthy obsession with true crime/ serial killers. Some may say it's far from normal, it was frightening. You knew stories of cases watched all the documentaries and more.

Some people say it's the type of obsession you hear killers having before they kill. You didn't care it was a interest that you were so passionate about. You preferred learning about serial killers, how their mind works, what drove them to do it. The ones you liked learning about the most was Tate Langdon who got shot dead in his bedroom after shooting up his school one day in 1994. And the other was James Patrick march a well known serial killer from the 1920s to the early 1930s. Legend has it they both still reside in their place of death.

You didn't know if that was true or not, you visited the hotel that James Patrick march resides in but nothing, you couldn't exactly go to the murder house since people live there. It intrigued you deeply, the thought it could be true or not.

You didn't know what you were doing when the idea popped into your head, you thought it won't work but it was worth a go. Now researching things to do, how to summon ghosts, some where a bit far fetched others seemed fake but you were willing nonetheless. Finding a method writing down everything that had to be done.

You sat in front of the oujia board your fingers delicately on the triangle piece. You took deep breaths trying to stay calm circling the board three times before saying "James Patrick march and Tate Langdon I invite you to this space" waiting a few seconds you felt eerily quiet and cold.

"Is there anyone here?" You asked the board, you felt something pushing the triangle to yes, you gasped in shock now feeling nervous but your fingers still remain on the piece. "How many sprits are here?" You then asked feeling uneasy slightly regretting your decision. The piece moved to the number 2 you didn't know if it was you or if it was actually two spirits here but you slowly asked your next question "w-who are you?".

The board moved to around spelling out two initials JMP and TL you gasped removing your hands from the board standing up. Completely forgetting to say goodbye. You immediately grabbed the board putting it away "what the fuck, it's probably me doing it it's got to be" you whispered to yourself.

"Not quite dear" a voice chimed making you yelp in fright. "What the fuck!?" You turned around seeing two guys there awfully familiar to you, they looked identical like discrete descent, "w-who are you?" You asked in fear.

"I'm James Patrick march and this is-" "Tate Langdon" they said, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion "you're both dead no this can't be true." You couldn't believe what you were seeing they looked exactly like the killers you knew so much about. "How are you here?" You asked a thousand questions running around your head.

"Well you summoned us" Tate chuckled pointing to the ouija board. That's when you realised "shit I forgot to say goodbye" mentally cursing yourself, "it's quite alright dear, but I must ask how did you manage to get us free?" James asked.

"Dude she used the ouaji board to get us out" Tate said like James was dumb. "That's fascinating" James eyes light up "I don't know how we could ever thank you" James added. Tate's eyes on you like you’re his prey, swallowing a lump in your throat as his steps grew closer to you from behind. "I've got an idea" Tate's breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "Y-you don't need to thank me" your voice was above whisper unsure what they mean.

"Well boy enlighten us with your idea" James's velvety voice made you shiver more. You couldn't deny they were both very attractive despite their tendency to killing. "Well she's pretty isn't she? Don't you agree?" Tate smirked his hands running down the soft skin of your arms. "I do agree with you she is quite remarkable" James agreed beckoning his steps closer to you.

You didn't know if your body was filled with fear or anticipation maybe both. Closing your eyes feeling their breaths breeze across your features. James colds fingertips grazing gracefully along your bare arms bringing goosebumps to their wake. "I think we shall reward her for setting us free from our eternal resistances" James smirked his pencil moustache raising up.

"I was thinking the same" Tate chuckled with a devilish smirk, you didn't know what to feel scared? Or turned on? Maybe both. Feeling their cold hands on you but you didn't protest instead you let out a small sigh tugging on your shirt removing it from your body your head felt like it was spinning feeling their lips on your neck. You felt yourself being guided to your bed. Seeing Tate now above you with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You didn't know where James was until Tate pull away from you, seeing James now in his briefs flipping you over on your hands and knee. You whimpered in anticipation for what's to come feeling James's cold fingers hooking into your underwear peeling the fabric of your underwear off you and into the floor. Tate in front of you his impressive length in-front of you, holding yourself on one hand stroking him, earning a low groan erupted from his mouth. You felt cold fingertips teasing your folds collecting your arousal bringing it to your clit circling it in slow torturous motions.

A small gasp left your lips, your body automatically responding to James's touch "that's it dear" he says huskily, Tate still knelt infront of you his eager length desperate for attention. You took Tate's cock in your hand stroking him kitten licking the tip making him buck his hips into your touch more. You took Tate in your mouth swirling your tongue along the tip, gasping as you felt James enter your heat.

James thrusted into you slowly you moaned against Tate's length. A low groan rumbled from his throat his hips bucked further in your throat. James thrusts grew more faster and harder, tears forming in your eyes. "Fuck" Tate hissed his hips essentially fucking your throat.

"You feel wonderful darling" James hissed his grip on your hips tight, nails digging into your skin only adding to your pleasure. "Fuck" you moaned feeling Tate twitch in your mouth signalling you that he was close. You kept your movements along Tate's cock till he releases into the back of your throat, swallowing every drop. James kept his movements thrusting harshly into you you felt close to the edge "I'm so close" you moaned. Tate was watching you and James with a smirk, his skin flustered. James didn’t stop his movements hitting that spot guaranteed to make you see stars.

With a few more harsh deep thrusts, your body trembles, back arching releasing over James’s length trigging his own release deep inside you. His thrusts became sloppy till they came to a halt. Trying to catch your breath “that was something else” you chuckled. James and tate shared a wicked smile between them, “oh we’re don’t done, we’re only getting started” Tate’s voice make a shiver run down your spine waiting on what’s to come.

[slutforgarlogan]

Matching Wounds | James Patrick March x F! reader

Summary: James Patrick March killing you while hes fucking you (sorry guys i had a dream about it and had to write it)

A/N: this is so toned down i got too into the killing part the first time

Warnings: blood!, p in v smut, restraints, reader gets killed but shes in the cortez so she'll be conscious again guys its fine

You tug at the restraints, which are currently making sure both your hands and feet are secured onto the bed. Your chest is heaving and you're getting increasingly nervous, heartrate quickening and inducing you into a panicked state wondering what on earth had made you think this was a good idea.

When you had asked James to do the honours of killing you, so that you could be together forever, it hadn't occured to you that you'd actually have to go through the feeling of being killed. You had just wanted him to shoot you in the head or the heart or something, but it was never going to be that simple when you put your life in the hands of James Patrick March.

James on the other hand, felt the complete opposite to you in this very moment. He was absolutely ecstatic when you had asked him to kill you, and he ran through all the possible ways to do it. Choke you to death, cut you somewhere fatal, snap your neck, shoot you. But what he immediately knew for sure, was that he was going to fuck you while he did it.

After a few days of thinking, also giving you time to go back on the request, he had decided exactly what he was going to do. He was going to slit your throat, so you'd have a permanent wound that matched his own. Which is rather romantic in its own twisted, yet endearing way.

He watches you tug at the restraints that hold you down to the bed, laughing a little bit. "Don't worry darling, i promise this isn't going to be a bad experience for you. I'll make it quick, you wont even notice his happening"

You nod feverishly, though you were scared out of your mind right now, you could never deny the effect that he had on you, pussy clenching around air just from hearing his voice.

You try to relax your body against the sheets, keeping you eyes trained on him carefully, as he sheds himself of his 3 piece and boxers, and uncovering his open neck wound - which you'd only seen him do once before.

You're already squirming by the time hes hovering over you, soaked and desperate for his touch. You lock your gaze with his dark eyes - his gaze somewhat ominous, but loving at the same time.

"I love you, darling" He whispers to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple as he slips his dick into your soaking wet cunt. You whine a little at the stretch, and whisper back to him "I love you too, James"

His hips snap against yours roughly, as he snakes his hand between your bodys to toy with your clit, making you whimper underneath him. The moans that escape his parted lips sound glorious, as breathes out his words "fuck darling, you're always so good for me"

His skin is hot and sticky against yours, and the feel of him buried inside you makes your toes curl as you writhe and whimper beneath him.

He can see you're getting closer, your body giving him the same telltale signs as always. Clenching around his cock, squirming and shaking. The restraints that tie you to the bed leaving deep marks on your wrists at the way you're thrashing beneath him.

As your eyes roll back and you throw your head back, James reaches his free hand over to the bedside table, grabbing his knife and dragging it across your throat as he feels you coat his dick in your release.

He lets out a gutteral groan at the sight in front of him. Your fucked out expression, blood pouring down your neck, trickling down your breasts, and he runs a thumb over your nipple, smearing your blood around it as he waits for you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Taglist: @lacucarachapisser @the-ultimate-theatre-kid @bluerthanvelvet444 @lvxybby

[ghostgirl-22]

The threeway kissing scene except when artrick start kissing tashi slips away all smug like "my work here is done" and art just gets so into it hes not thinking about shame, being repressed or anything else rn, hes just whimpering "patrick... i cant stop" as theyre grabbing and rubbing against each other

"You dont need to" and they 👉👌

I could definitely see it! Tashi’s giving them the side eye cause she’s heard all kinds of things about fire and ice. But one of the things she kept hearing was how coupled up they were.

So when she asks if they’ve ever done anything and Arts denying it so vehemently and claiming that—- sure, Patrick gave him his first sexual experience but it was totally platonic and they were on separate sides of the room in separate beds both thinking about a girl “Kat Zimmerman,” one glance at Patrick’s face is enough for her to figure out what’s going on.

The way Patrick’s just stumbling behind the story trying to give Art the validation that he needs… maybe he even feels a little bit bad for telling her in the first place after Art begged him not to. Probably because it’s got Art all adorably flustered. She clocks them both immediately <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Canon drift

-/-/-/-

They’re both next to her in seconds when she sits on the bed. Art feels his world opening up when she kisses him first. He’s losing his mind at the feeling of her lips, her tongue. He grabs hold of her thighs a little nervous. She breaks the kiss. She’s got her face so close to his just breathing in his mouth. He loves the smell of her, the taste of her. He’d do anything to be with her.

She’s going back and forth between them. Art thinks he’s gonna die for how hot this is. They’re giggling between kisses. Nervous energy all around.

Then shes pulling them both in and it’s just a mess of tongues and mouths and spit and breathing. She tastes like cherry chapstick and Patrick like tobacco and together Art just wants more and more. He’s not sure when he realizes it.

That he’s just kissing Patrick.

It’s not like anything is changing. He still feels so good he wants to die. He’s chasing after the kiss, eager when he feels Patrick’s tongue. Patrick’s hand cradling his face, then his hair. He doesn’t want to stop. He’s grabbing at Patrick. Pulling him closer like they’re not already close enough. He can hear Tashi sigh but he still doesn’t know if he can stop… not until Patrick pulls back just a little bit.

Art follows him and steals another kiss. “Mm, holy shit,” Patrick’s grinning, teasing his fingers into Arts hair to steady his movements.

“You guys want it bad huh?” Tashi says, quietly, her eyes all sparkly. “Can’t even sleep in separate beds. You’re pushing them together and shit but you’re just roommates? I’m sure.”

Patrick is grinning like he knows something Art doesn’t know. Art tries to kiss her again but she presses her palm against his chest, holding him back. “Do that again.” She tells him, looking back and forth between him and Patrick.

“Patrick can I— can I please?” Art whispers. He’s all scrambled up, not sure why he can’t think. Nothing feels real right now. It’s like being high. Or being at Disneyland.

“Of course you can,” Patrick says softly. “What do you need?”

Art’s not sure what he needs he just knows he isn’t finished, he needs more. He grabs at Patrick’s shirt, the same shirt Art was wearing earlier and Patrick gets to his feet so he’s in front of Art, bent in half kissing him, then climbing on top of him, straddling him.

Arts grabbing at his thighs. Touching everything he can. Patrick’s bigger than him, feels so heavy and warm on his lap. Art jerks his hips up and Patrick sighs against his lips. Moans when Art starts rubbing him where he’s started tenting. He pulls Patrick down on top of him, like a heavy weighted blanket as he lays back in the bed.

Pushed together because Patrick needs to be close all the time. And then even closer than that.

Patrick’s body is covering him now. His stupidly big cock is pressing hard along his stomach. His mouth is all over Arts body.

“I wanna— wanna fuck you,” Art groans as Patrick sucks hickies into his throat.

“Yeah? Is that what you want, sunshine?” Patrick’s saying, hot breath ghosting along his neck, soft, deep voice resonating, making Art shiver.

“Yes,” Art moans, helplessly. He’s rutting his hips up, pressing himself along Patrick’s ass for friction.

He feels so out of it— so desperate.

“Fuck okay, you wanna fuck. Stay there. I need to find something.” Patrick says anxiously and Art groans when Patrick climbs off him and they’re forced to separate. He didn’t even realize Tashi left; he feels vaguely disappointed. Then Patrick comes back. Climbs on top and helps Art with the condom. It’s slippery wet with lube. Art’s holding onto Patrick… slipping it slowly in and two seconds later he’s doing it. Fucking into him, like Patrick’s a girl. A real tight virginal girl. Feels so fucking good on his cock. Art’s almost more desperate now.

Patrick’s breathing deep, moaning as he kisses Art all over.

Art is barely aware of anything but the continuous movement of Patrick on his cock and he finishes so embarrassingly quick he almost pulls the pillow over his face to hide himself. Now he’s actually grateful Tashi isn’t here anymore.

Surprisingly, Patrick doesn’t tease him. He’s just staring at Art and grabbing at his own oversized cock, jerking it slowly. Arts so mesmerized he can sense the distant thrum of arousal slowly beginning to bloom inside him again.

Patrick’s fingers are wet with lube, sliding up and down and up and down as precum leaks from the tip. The whole time he’s got his lips parted, saying nonsense things like, “you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” “Look at you,” “Better than a fucking dream.” His eyes never leave Art’s body.

And then suddenly he’s groaning as hot creamy liquid spurts all over Arts bare stomach and chest. Art kinda likes the feel of it, he hadn’t expected that it would feel so heated. Almost hot. And the way Patrick is panting like he couldn’t help himself, eyes still roving hungrily over Art. The idea that he needed to do that just because he was looking at Art. It all makes Art feel so good and warm.

They almost miss it. They’re lying in bed talking frenetically about how crazy the nights been. It’s like they’re drunk off of one beer split three ways. And then Art gets up to clean up a little bit and go pee when he spots her note.

I have to go back to my room but I didn't want to interrupt. Hope you boys have fun. See you tomorrow. ︎︎

Written on the little hotel notepad and signed T, with a heart.

And sure enough she’s in the stands at their match the next day just eager to hear more about what happened last night.

(And they never fight over her number and she never gets injured and she gets to be a star tennis player and has two boyfriends and her boyfriends are boyfriends and… and… and…they live happily ever after. The end.)

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

[peachhcs]

yesss i loved that side angst plot where samy just starts being scared to tell will stuff and is holding back because she still is nervous from him breaking up with her out of the blue

part 4! i actually love, love writing angst, so here's another blurb about the injury & i can add more if you guys want a fully developed fic

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7

ever since the headline dropped, will couldn’t sit still. he paced back and forth in the living room waiting for any update about samy. there had been nothing from gabe since the two talked when it happened and there was nothing from the family either.

the blonde was growing worried. why wasn’t anyone calling him? did they forget about him? did he not matter in telling because he wasn’t there anymore?

will was really starting to spiral.

patrick walked into the common space where he saw the younger sharks player looking a bit too pale then usual. “will? you okay?” the older man wondered.

the blonde spun around, “huh? yeah. sorry. i’m fine.”

“you don’t look fine. everything okay, kid?” marleau was basically will’s unofficial mentor and guardian living with him for a year, so he did want to make sure the boy was truly okay.

“well..my girlfriend, samy, got hurt in her game and i haven’t heard anything from anyone about how she’s doing,” will finally expressed his concern. patrick frowned.

“oh no. what happened?”

“i guess she hurt her shoulder when someone hit into her. they cut the stream and she needed to be helped off the field,” the blonde continued which made patrick’s frown even deeper.

“well, shit. that’s not good. you haven’t heard anything?”

will shook his head. just as he did though, his phone started buzzing on the coffee table making the entire wooden structure vibrate. he grabbed it, not even looking to see who was calling while patrick listened in.

“hello?”

“hey? will?” it was luke and for a second, a moment of relief rushed through the blonde, glad he was finally hearing someone’s voice.

“yeah? what’s up? is she okay? how is she? is it bad?” he rushed out all of his questions in one breath, patrick quickly squeezing his shoulder so he’d slow down.

“um, yeah. well..maybe. it’s been kind of crazy. she’s in surgery right now—“

“wait, surgery?” the boy’s mouth hung open, eyes bouncing over to marleau.

“the doctor said she tore a tendon when she got hit and fell. they said immediate surgery was needed..i dunno all the details though. mom knows more than i do. you can talk to her if you want," luke said but his voice faded out of the blonde's mind.

will's heart sunk at the idea of samy needing surgery and he wasn't there to be with her. sure, she's had surgery before back when she broke her elbow when they were younger, but that was different back then.

"will?" luke pulled the younger boy back into reality.

"sorry, i-i'm good. i hope the surgery goes okay," will's voice fell quiet, the only thing keeping him grounded was patrick's heavy hand on his shoulder.

"we'll keep you updated. i'll have her call you when she's well enough."

"yeah, thanks," the two hung up.

"so is she okay? what surgery?" marleau wondered as he watched the younger blonde sink onto the couch looking way worse than he did 5 minutes ago.

"shoulder surgery. she tore a tendon, i guess," will's voice faded off.

"shit, that sucks. i hope she gets better soon," patrick sympathized and all will could do was blankly nod.

the day went on and the whole time will waited for another call. he stared at his phone like it'd disappear if he looked away. the hours ticked by and the more worried the blonde became when no updates came. he constantly checked samy and luke's locations that were still at the hospital in boston. eventually, gabe and ryan's locations ended up there and for a split second, something in will's heart twisted seeing them there.

he knew they were close and treated samy like a sister, but it was something about seeing them getting to be there for her and he couldn't that spun his brain hard.

finally, will's phone buzzed. he grabbed it from the coffee table again, running to his bedroom and ignoring marleau and his wife's eyes following him in concern.

"hey, will," it was gabe. not samy.

the blonde deflated just a little bit, "hey. what's up?"

"we just saw samy. she's doing well. surgery went well," gabe cheered and first, there was relief flooding through will's chest, but that feeling was quickly followed by..hurt?

why hasn't samy called him yet?

"really? i'm glad. did she just get out?"

"yeah, she got out like four hours ago. ryan and i just saw her for an hour. seems to be in good spirits," the hurt continued building as gabe kept talking.

"oh."

"i think she was happy to see us after her mom hovering over her since she woke up," the darker-haired boy laughed and will couldn't even manage a fake laugh.

"she hasn't called me," the blonde couldn't stop the words falling from his lips. gabe fell silent for a second.

"oh. i mean she probably will soon. she's probably still coming to and stuff," for some reason, his words didn't sound convincing to will because four hours was plenty of time to come to and call your boyfriend to tell him you were okay—at least in will's opinion.

"yeah, right," the sharks player muttered.

"i can put her on if you want? we were just about to leave the lobby," gabe offered.

"no, it's okay. i'll call her later. she's probably tired and needs to rest," the blonde mumbled as he glanced at his clock and saw that it was almost 10pm in boston.

"yeah, yeah. don't sweat it, smitty. ryan and i are gonna head out, but we'll talk to you later," gabe's chirpy mood returned.

"yeah, talk to you guys later," they hung up.

will dropped his phone and that twist in his chest turned into more of a painful knot. the thoughts he had earlier began plaguing his mind. why wasn't she calling him?

[gallavichsreddie1128]

omgg i loveee your patrick zweig x reader fics, could please write a bit more about patrick zweig x pregnant reader or patrick with his newborn baby (i have a soft spot for that lol)

So when Y/N first found out she was pregnant she was scared and nervous. Patrick was still a pro tennis player and they barely talked about kids. So when Y/N saw that the pregnancy test was positive she didn’t know how to react. Patrick was practicing so it would be awhile before he got back. A few hours later he returned to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table with something in her hand. “Hey baby.” He greeted. She gave him a soft smile, “Hey.” Her body was tense and she had every emotion. “Can you come sit?” She asked him. He looked confused but sat across from her as she stared at whatever was in her hand. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed and sat the pregnancy test on the table for him to see. She slid it over to him. He picked it up and gasped. “You’re Pregnant?” He asked and she nodded. He stood up and ran over to her and picked her up. “This is amazing!” He said and twirled her around. She laughed and he set her down. They were almost face to face but the height difference made that impossible. “You’re having my baby!” He said with a smile. “I know it’s amazing.” She said, happy that he reacted that way.

Patrick was pretty overprotective over her as the days went on. He didn’t want Y/N to lift a finger. So anytime he was there she wouldn’t. Even if she had to shower he’d offer to help. “Patrick you just wanna see me naked.” “Well duh but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He said. When the raging hormones hit he took it all. From Y/N yelling at him to crying and obviously to wanted to jump his bones. That was his favorite obviously. He loved having sex and the fact Y/N wanted it more than him? That was awesome. “This is the most we’ve had sex.” He breathed out as he collapsed next to her. “Are you complaining?” She asked, he shook his head. “Hell no.” Even the crazy cravings that she got. “I’m sorry you want Pickles and popcorn but together? So the pickle juice with popcorn?” She nodded. He looked at her weird but got it for her anyways. He loved her so much and the little baby growing inside of her.

When the time came Patrick freaked out as Y/N yelled in pain. He called Art to figure it out and help since he had a kid of his own. “Take her to the hospital you dumbass!” He yelled at the man. So he grabbed what was needed and took Y/N to the hospital. The car ride was awful. She kept screaming at him to drive faster. “Babe I’m going as fast as I can.” When the arrived Y/N was took to a room immediately and Patrick watched as his wife screamed as the contractions hit. He took a hold of her hand as she got ready to push. “You got this baby!” He said as she pushed. “You did this to me you asshole! You put this baby in me! We are never having sex again!” She yelled at him. He hoped that wasn’t true. Once the baby was out the crying could be heard. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said. They looked at each other and smiled. “A little tennis star.” Patrick said. The doctor handed the baby to Y/N and she awed. She was so tiny in her arms and looked so cute. Patrick stared at the scene in front of him never wanting to forget it. “Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked him. He nodded as the tears started forming. He took the baby out of his wife’s arms and cooed at the little baby. “You look just like your mom.” He said and Y/N scoffed. “Patrick she doesn’t look like either of us yet. Well maybe your big nose.” “Hey you like my big nose especially when you sit on it.” He said and Y/N hit him. “No talk like that in front of the baby. “ She growled. He apologized but smirked at her. “Babe we have a little us in my arms.” He said and she smiled. “Yeah we do.”

Patrick wouldn’t shut up about his newborn. Art was happy that Patrick had a baby now but the man really couldn’t stop talking about her. “Art she’s so cute and has my nose!” “I know you’ve told me 8 times already!” Safe to say that Patrick loves her a lot.

[orbitariums]

Comfortfriend!patrick, what does Patrick do when he sees the boyfriend?

With Artashi, he was smug but quiet. Think he could pull that off with shitty bf?

Is it, All knowing smirks, firm handshakes, silently staring at you, long lingering hugs, soft kisses on the cheek, complimenting you outfit (he loves seeing your ass in a tennis skirt, he can’t wait to flip it over later)?

Or is he slight more overt? Hugs where his hands run down your back and end with him grabbing your ass in public, a cheeky kiss to the neck, stroking your shoulder whilst you’re talking, hand on your thigh, if bf makes a lewd comment about you, Patrick replies with ‘I know…’ with a look from you ‘I mean I can imagine bro’.

You try to ply bf with excuses He’s just like that, we’re known each other for so long.

But it ends up in a fight, you’re in tears abd of course running to Patrick. He hates that it’s technically his fault, but he’s happy to comfort you and work hard to make you really feel his apology.

but wow, what a moment in my career... thank u for this question, i truly never thought to expand this recoverybf!/comfortfriend!patrick au outside of the walls of his apartment and yet here we are... and what a wonderful place it is to be. still based on the song i linked below and always with black reader (anyone can read it and i don't get super specific with details anyway - i just want black girls in this fandom to have something for us <3) changed it just a bit so reader's not crying because she's PISSED! and of course she just HAS to confront patrick about it.

*+. 🎧 if you got a man we could bend the rules

recoverybf!patrick + black reader — to bend the rules

contains: cheating, jealousy, slut-shaming (once bad once hot), smut!

wc: 5.1k (was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away hehe)

even before you started "seeing" patrick — if you could call running to his studio apartment in the wee hours of the night for comfort in the form of rounds of relentless sex "seeing" him — you kept your boyfriend pretty separate from your friends. you, art, tashi and patrick were such a firm group in and of itself that it felt unnecessary and almost inappropriate to bring someone else in, even if that someone else was your boyfriend of nearly two years.

when it started getting bad with chris, you were secretly glad that you didn’t ever bring him around. your gut wrenching anxiety and reluctance when you introduced him to your friends for the first time should've been a sign. it wasn't that they were judgmental — although they were notoriously hard to impress — you just didn't feel right deep down. it didn't ever feel right to bring him around, but sometimes it was inevitable. this was one of those times.

tashi's parents were hosting a party for her birthday and to celebrate her fantastic season. you told chris about it in passing and he demanded that you should bring a date to those kinds of things because they're so "public"— as if espn would be flooding tashi's parents' backyard. you obliged because you didn't want to fight with him, but you prayed he didn't notice the way you grew more and more agitated as the day drew closer, and you obsessed over the thought of him having to interact with patrick.

it had been almost three weeks of you two hooking up behind your boyfriend's back, and it didn't take long for you to sink into a routine of it. the first time it happened, you came back home a wreck — the next few times, you didn't even think twice about it. now, it was almost as if you had to confront it head on, knowing you'd be forced to include him in your interactions with your best friends.

you were back to being a nervous wreck, flooded with guilt and shame, like you were just now realizing that what you were doing was wrong. but was it wrong? you were being mistreated, and half the time chris acted like he hated you. friends are supposed to support each other, right? and that's all patrick was doing. he was supporting you. he was just helping you. talking you through it — with his cock pushing past your folds, his lips against your ear as he ... talked you through it.

and patrick was not known for his subtlety. in fact, it was the opposite that had created that existing tension between the two of you in the first place — his intense gaze on you whenever you wore something tight, the way his jaw clicked when you even mentioned your boyfriend in passing, his touches held for an inappropriately long amount of time. you almost expected him to say something. it wouldn't be unlike him to make a sly comment about how much he appreciated chris for sharing you with him.

this worried you so much that you texted him a day before.

patrick i swear to god if you say anything tomorrow i'm gonna fucking kill you. and i will hide your body someplace no one will ever find it.

he called you right when that text went through, a grating nonchalance in his voice.

"what are you talking about?"

"you know what i'm—" you closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower: chris was in the living room nearby, "you know what i'm talking about. if you fucking say a word about me and you—"

"yn, i'm not a sadist. i'll be a good boy."

you tried to ignore the visceral reaction to the way those words sounded in his throat, grainy over the phone and so fitting with his boyish drawl. patrick wanted to laugh— he could almost hear the scowl in your voice as you replied,

"you fucking better."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

the whole ride over there, you were silent, still brooding and hoping for the worst, smoothing your hands over your tennis skirt, which you wore in homage to tashi. your boyfriend didn't say a word, as he was usually oblivious to how you felt, but that didn't stop you from gazing out the window wistfully, winding it down so you could get more air.

by the time you actually arrived, you planted a smile on your face, hoping that you could just distract yourself with the party. you were glad to use tashi's parents as a buffer for a while, chatting with them about mindless things, your boyfriend mainly driving the conversation and trying to network.

after about five minutes, you finally noticed art, patrick and tashi in the distance out of the corner of your eye, waving their hands and trying to get your attention. so as not to appear distracted, you cracked a soft smile and then returned to the conversation.

that was until you heard an all too familiar voice shouting your name over the chatter and the music. when you looked again, who but patrick was practically out of his seat, waving his hand raucously, his blue-striped shirt lifting up along with his arm to reveal the slightest shimmer of his toned stomach. that expanse of skin just above his shorts that you knew all too well — the thought of where it led made your mouth dry.

your heart dropped when tashi's parents glanced behind themselves and your boyfriend cocked his head.

"oh, looks like somebody's waiting on you," tashi's mother quipped. "we'll let you two go."

you nearly wanted to plead with them not to, but it was too late. chris took your hand and practically dragged you alongside him, when all you wanted was to stay put.

"yn!" tashi got up first, her arms flying open to wrap you in a hug. "finally you're here."

you grinned, your eyes sparkling — out of the three, tashi was who you could relate to most, and you honestly looked up to her even though she was your close friend. the two of you balanced out the loud testosterone filled energy that art and patrick created.

"happy birthday, t," you handed her your gift.

art stood up to hug you, and your boyfriend followed that order, except all he got were awkward handshakes from art and tashi. not only did they not know chris very well since you never brought him around, but they also didn't like him that much based on what you'd told them in the past.

as you stood in front of patrick, you glared at him, silently warning him that he was already doing too much.

"my favorite girl," patrick grinned. three words that were innocent enough, but also enough to cause a stir. you were glad your back was facing art and tashi, because that meant you didn't have to see the look they shared, the corners of their mouth turned up in wait.

before you could even respond, patrick had wrapped his arms around you in a hug. a hug that started at below your shoulders and then traveled down slowly, slow enough that you could feel his hands embracing your curves, like he was trying to feel every last part of you. you almost gasped when you felt the way his hands hovered just so above your ass, in a sort of game of "i'm not touching you." if you moved, or if he slid his hands just an inch down, he'd be grabbing your ass. and in that stretch of time that felt like forever, you imagined how he'd do it — how he'd push his hands up underneath your skirt and squeeze the fat of your ass in front of everyone with no shame. you almost wanted him to, but you quickly remembered where you were and who was standing right beside you.

whenever there was a line, patrick was prone to cross it. but his hands did stop, only nudging the line instead.

when he finally pulled away, clearly the one in charge of the entire interaction, your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were vibrating with anger already. you wanted to slap the shit-eating grin off his face. compared to what you two did in private, this was nothing, but in private, your boyfriend wasn't just inches away from you. he didn't stop there — one hand was still on your waist as he did a onceover of you. you knew that look in his eyes all too well. a hint of playfulness mixed with a very obvious ogling.

"wow, what a nice tennis skirt, you look like a pro. i love this outfit on you, this is very new," he said, but you knew what he wanted to say.

you flashed a tight lipped grin, choosing to take the low road,

"yours isn't. but thank you."

you stepped back, your hand on chris' shoulder as you guided him towards patrick. chris glared at patrick for just a second before he stuck his hand out. you wanted to wilt away and die when you saw that fucking smirk on patrick's face expand. the smirk you'd seen a thousand times, all with different varieties and intensities. smirking down at you slid down to your knees in front of him, your body brushing against his; smirking when you go wide-eyed at some lewd comment he'd make about your transgressions ("does he know that you like getting facials or do you only do that with me?"); smirking at your pussy when you come again after crying that you couldn't anymore, smirking when you show up to his door after saying you wouldn't anymore.

patrick gripped chris' hand firmly and they shook hands like two grown men at a business conference before chris uttered,

"patrick."

"chris! good to see you." he used his hand to playfully nudge chris on the side. "you never come out, what's that all about!"

chris chuckled,

"work is crazy."

patrick nodded, looking pensively down at the ground for a second before looking at you,

"why don't you invite your boyfriend out with us more, yn?"

you rolled your eyes,

"same reason you don't mind your business, zweig."

the night continued like that — like a game of tug of war between you and patrick, him pulling you in and you tugging back just before he could make you topple over.

while the table was yapping about something, you tried to purposefully avoid eye contact or any interaction with patrick, but you could feel the way his gaze burned into the side of your face even when you weren't talking. like he was inquiring about something. probably wondering why your boyfriend's arm has been around you the entire night. silently asking you why you allow it when you know you don't even like being touched by him for too long. at some point, he catches your eye, and he furrows his brows together slightly, biting down on his lip. you get flustered and turn away, swigging beer from the bottle.

everytime chris kissed your cheek, or showed any affection toward you— a hand on your knee, a squeeze of your arm, patrick reacted in only a way you could detect. a tick of his jaw, an eye roll, cigarette smoke blown in your direction. you pretended the smoke making contact with your cheek didn't bother you, wasn't purposeful.

drinks were flowing, the party was in full effect.

chris had one too many beers and was starting to get embarrassing.

"and this one, you know, she won't ever let me hear the end of anything," he pointed a thumb in your direction, hoping to get raucous laughter from your friends, but instead being met with meek chuckles. "just talks and talks."

patrick snorted. loudly. so loud that everyone at the table takes interest in whatever it is that he clearly has to say. he just leaned back in his chair and tossed the stub of his cigarette into the ashtray on the table.

"she's a talker, alright."

your eyes went wide as you caught the way art covered his mouth to hide a smile, and tashi glanced over at you as if to confirm that what he just said was as damning as it sounded. a silence takes over the table for just a minute, and you try to gain your composure as you feel chris' eyes flitter from you to patrick. chris leaned in just a bit, chuckling, but not because he found it funny,

"what?"

patrick looked around for a second, feigning naivety,

"oh, i just said what you said. she gets pretty loud." he let that hang in the air, which was getting stiffer by the second. then, to recover, he nodded over at art and tashi, "but we love her for it, right?"

"yeah," tashi said hurriedly.

"of course," art tried not to snicker.

when everyone had finished their drinks, patrick took it upon himself to restock. he stood behind you, commanding the attention of the table,

"i'm seeing empty cups. anyone want anything?"

"just a water," tashi replied, and patrick pointed his finger at her,

"wrong, another beer."

he took note of everyone's drink of choice, but you didn't say anything. in what could be seen as camaraderie, he placed his hands on your shoulders and bent down slightly so he was at level with your ear. he's so close to you that you can feel his breath, accented lightly with the fermented scent of heineken, against your neck.

"you need anything?" need.

what a charged word coming from the man who had been tending to your every need for the last few weeks. he tended to your "need" for hours every time. so many times tonight, you'd almost given in, nearly fucked him right there. and although his cockiness, which you had specifically asked him not to exhibit, made you angry, you still had to practice restraint. after all, it was him. your attraction to him wasn't new, but it did triple once you finally started hooking up.

you turned your head just slightly, so you met his gaze. the two of you performed this sort of intimate dance. just two friends talking in hushed tones, as if there were more to a drink than just quenching your thirst. or maybe that was what it was. you held his gaze, letting your arousal snake around your anger and suffocate it. as if you had a choice — it was an almost primal reaction to him in your space, even if you were furious with him.

"i'm okay, thanks," you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, quietly confirming the tension you were both feeling.

you didn't miss the smug satisfaction on his face and his eyes as he registered that switch that had flicked in you. it was so slight but if anyone could notice it, it was him. he pulled his bottom lip inbetween his teeth and his lips quirked up in what was almost a grin.

"c'mon, i'll get you something. tell me what you need," his voice way too smooth and quiet to just be talking about a drink.

you held his gaze just a moment longer, and then grinned,

"surprise me."

patrick smiled, finally tearing away from you and squeezing your shoulders as he stood back straight again,

"attagirl."

as he walked away, he patted chris' shoulder, too.

you cursed yourself for being obvious, but you mostly cursed patrick for doing the exact opposite of what you'd told him to do. you shouldn't even have brought it up to him to begin with, you knew how much he got off on being ornery and oppositional. maybe if you hadn't told him not to make it obvious, he might have actually allowed the night to be normal, not charged with this weird sexual tension and energy that everyone could see, including your boyfriend.

when you get home, you didn't hear the end of it. chris was shouting at you for what felt like an hour, angry at you, angry at patrick, angry at your friends, angry at the world.

"where does he get off touching you like that, huh? 'my favorite girl', are you fucking serious?"

"babe, we're friends. seriously, i've known him for years, it's nothing. patrick's just... like that."

that doesn't cut it. he's shouting at you and berating you for what feels like an hour, directing his anger at a different person every five minutes — you, patrick, art and tashi, the world. by the time it was over, you were exhausted. when were you not, with him?

the sharp hiss of the word "slut" from your boyfriend's lips rang in your ears. to your surprise, when he said it, you laughed. you were amused at the sheer irony of it all. he's not wrong. somehow, knowing that you were about to do exactly what he was accusing you of gave you a rush of power, a sense of self-righteousness. there was no guilt, not now —you were justified in your wrongdoing, and he had just proven that to you. why shouldn't you be a slut?

you were sitting behind the wheel, your jaw tight as you pulled out your phone and sent a text to the one person who you should hate right now, but who you need the most.

i'm so fucking mad at you right now.

you leaned your head back against the headrest, perking up as he responds within the minute.

yeah. wear that skirt when you get here.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

when you showed up you didn't even bother with a greeting, gliding right past him when he opened the door, leaving him there with his hand still on the doorknob.

he was taken aback for a second, frozen in place as he registered you standing in front of him defiantly with your hands on your hips. clad in that perfectly pleated white tennis skirt and short short crop top, just the way he wanted you.

“seriously patrick, i’m upset with you,” you announced, folding your arms over your chest which only accentuated your tits more — if you weren’t so focused on being defiant you’d have noticed the way his eyes trailed down to ogle your breasts.

he blinked, his mouth slightly open as he let the door close. he considered for a moment, shrugging and opening up the discussion.

“mkay… you wanna talk about it?” he pressed his lips together and pushed them to the side like he was considering something — he doesn’t give a fuck.

you glared at him, narrowing your eyes,

“yeah, actually. i told you specifically not to say anything.”

he laughs, actually laughs, tilting his head back with a wide smile,

“i didn’t!”

“you fucking may as well have!” you hissed. “he practically yelled at me for an hour when we got back, what the fuck is wrong with you? what happened to ‘i’m not a sadist, yn’? you think you’re so fucking smart.”

“okay, okay, hey. listen. i’m sorry. okay, i’m sorry. i just… god, i hate him. i wanted to make him feel like shit, that’s all. for the way he treats you he should,” he replied, finally sounding at least slightly reasonable and sincere.

“and you decided the best way to do that was to hint that me and you fuck on a weekly basis? you couldn’t emasculate him any other way? challenge him to a match with you for god’s sake,” you bleated, your expression unchanged, but your heart warming just a bit.

“ok, it wasn’t the best way to do it. it was the first thing that came up and you know how i am anyway,” he continued, and although you were still angry you understood him, you could even reason with him.

how could you not? that was just how he was anyway, how could you possibly expect him to turn it down just because your boyfriend was around? no, you couldn’t possibly ask for that.

he stepped closer to you, making you lose resolution in your once solid glare. he watched as you started to crumple, yet open up at once.

“and plus you looked so good. you don't want me to act the way i act but... you just can’t do that to me. it’s not fair,” his voice was soft and convincing, encroaching in the right way.

it sounded like all the things your boyfriend could never be. it was full of true desire and an apologetic nature that you sought out so often from the man you were supposed to love. when you were in need of that, you could find it here. that’s why it was so hard to stop.

“hmm,” you hummed, tingles running down your spine as you glanced up at him and let your arms fall down to your sides. giving up, giving in. he let his hands rest on your hips, pulling you in just slightly so he truly towered over you.

“are you still mad at me?” he looked down at you, his voice so sweet and soft and unlike how he usually was, his deep brown eyes twinkling.

you frowned, your brow quirking, but you couldn’t even fully convince yourself. like a brat you uttered,

“yes.”

chills when he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, ever so often brushing against your bare skin exposed by the crop top. he had that stupid knowing smile on his face — stupid because not only was he being presumptuous as always but because it made you melt. it reminded you that he really did value you, that he wanted to take care of you in any way he knew how.

“well, you can’t be mad at the both of us. who’s gonna do my job?” patrick asked, like a professor readily awaiting an answer from his uninterested class.

“me,” you pouted, looking away from him. amused, patrick giggled and used a finger to lift your chin, quipping,

“oh really? you wanna show me how you do it?”

"you wish, patrick," you rolled your eyes, simply unable to ignore the way his words went straight to your core.

he could tell, past the feigned annoyance, that you were imagining it, thinking of letting your fingers trail up and down against your slit while patrick looked on with watchful eyes. maybe even lighting a cigarette and leaning back to watch you and drink in all of you. so calm and cavalier, taking drag after drag from his cigarette. you imagined how he might sit there so calm and cavalier, taking in drags from his cigarette with a nonchalant expression on his face that didn't indicate any of the arousal he felt poking through his jeans. just sitting and watching you fall apart with each needy pump of your fingers pushing past your folds — the sounds of your desperate whimpers and gushing pussy squelching as your fingers work faster filling the room. if you started to close your legs, he'd lean forward and push them apart, then sit back again. he didn't blame you for it, he was thinking about it too. you both knew he was adding that onto his mental checklist.

"hmm, i do," his fingers gripped your chin and he squeezed it gently, his deep brown eyes pouring over yours so gently, filled with so much love and appreciation. you could burst. "hey, if you're so mad at me, why'd you show up in your tennis skirt like i told you to?"

he asked this question while letting his hands smooth down over your body, reminiscent of the way he hugged you earlier in front of your boyfriend. he stopped just above your ass, his hands hovering there while he awaited your answer like it was a green light.

"i was already wearing it..." you trail off, unable to keep steady in your resolve, and he knows he’s got you.

“yeah, you’re full of shit,” patrick laughed. you felt his breath on your face, coming in heavy huffs of laughter as he leaned in.

the tip of his nose bumped against yours, his lips fanning over your own. you felt him smile against your lips as his hands drifted down and underneath the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass with his rough, worked hands, just like you imagined he would. you couldn't help the way a little moan escaped your lips, finding the slightest bit of relief at last, and all from his touch. he felt it too, a peaceful sigh escaping his parted lips. he kissed you then, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it back slightly. hints of heineken meeting the coconut vanilla lip gloss you'd slathered on before you came here.

"i wanna make it up to you," patrick murmured against your lips, pulling you in closer by the small of your back and kissing you again, obsessed with the way the gloss made his lips glisten with the memory of you.

"yeah?" you gazed up at him, fluttering your lashes in that way you knew drove him crazy— he knew you were doing it on purpose, but somehow that intention made him all the more attracted. "how?"

that was how you ended up with your legs suspended in the air, hooked around patrick's beefy arms as he fucked into you, his cock hard and thick and rigid, twitching constantly at the sound of your moans.

"fuck, you're so fucking hot. i'm so- fuck - i'm sorry, baby," he stammered just slightly dropping that guise of cockiness for you. there's no need, you forgave him the second he bullied his gorging tip inside of you and rewarded you with that miraculous stretching feeling, a key fit snug inside a lock. you might've forgiven him even before that, when he spat on your pussy and placed a wet kiss on it before positioning his cock at your entrance.

your breath was caught in your throat, all you could feel was your body — your legs stretching back towards your head, your breasts jiggling in tandem with patrick's thrusts, sweat prickling the surface of your soft skin, your pussy getting fed with cock, stretching and molding his own and sending sensations up to your lower abdomen. you couldn't think.

" you forgive me? not mad at me anymore?" patrick asked, and usually his voice was dripping with immodesty, but this time it was ladled with desire — he wanted to hear you say the words. he was full of shit, and sometimes a dickhead, but he wasn't just some archetype. you had been friends first, and he wanted you to know that he gave a fuck.

"mm-mm," you shook your head, your eyes clenched shut. you brought your hand up to your lip to bite down on it, but patrick shook his head and swiped your hand away.

"no, no, no, none of that. i wanna hear those moans, i wanna hear how good i'm making that pussy feel," he pants, hinging on something similar to desperation.

you whimper and it trails off into a loud crash of a moan as his tip hits just right, you feel like you can feel the outline of him inside you. he moans too, readjusting so it feels like he's power fucking you, his hips gliding back and forth at a new speed, previously undiscovered, so fast and hard and yet smooth that your eyes are rolling back in your head before crashing shut again, and your mouth is open but no sound is coming out. then, at once, a raucous moan that didn't even sound like it could come out of you — not you, so soft and sweet and innocent and wet, mush under his touch.

patrick can't believe it, can hardly stomach looking down because he knows the sight of your wetness glistening on his cock, practically soaking him, will make him come in five seconds tops. he spares a glance anyway, his stomach flipping. he laughs incredulously, glancing down,

"you're so fucking wet, my god — cock just slides right in, i don't even need to — fuck — fucking try. imma make you mad all the time if this is how wet it gets you."

just a moment later he's yapping again, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't bring you closer and closer to the edge.

"tell me. tell me that you're – shit – that you're not mad at me anymore. open your eyes, want you to look at me when you say it. want those pretty eyes looking at me while you take my shit."

you shake your head furiously, forcing your eyes open even if they are low-lidded,

"n-not mad at you anymore. i forgive you, i forgive you, just fuck me, please!"

you'll be embarrassed at how easily you give in later on, but right now you wrap your arms around his back and pull him in closer to you.

patrick chuckles, astonished at just how fucking horny you could be,

"god, you're fucking easy. just need a little dick to get your head screwed on straight, fix that fucking attitude. need it from me. all you need's a little dick to be a good little slut again, yeah?"

and you barely realize it, but you're blubbering and nodding as he drives his dick deeper into you, forcing you to sink your teeth into the flesh of his prominent bicep. digging deep into you like forgiveness could be found in the warmth of your pussy.

it doesn't take long before you're bent over and he's letting the tennis skirt flutter ever so slightly over your ass, groaning as his thrusts cause the skirt to jostle around and expose more of your ass, which bounces back each time he cracks his thighs against you. he's easing in and out of your pussy and his hand has found a home in the arch of your back. nothing has ever looked so appealing to him before— twice he paused and just let you work him, fucking back onto him, while he zoned out and just admired the magic happening before his eyes. you work hard, and he's in disbelief at how much you make an honest job out of fucking back on his cock. sweat dripping down his forehead, his eyebrows raised slightly, mouth dropped just so. he's in a lull, completely in awe. when he comes, he aims it onto your ass, bending down immediately to lick it up and clean up his mess, his tongue flirting with your asshole in the process.

after the whole ordeal, he'll tell you to leave your skirt here, and sends you home in a pair of his sweats.

you don't ask why, you just watch the snapchat video he sends you not too long after of him jerking off onto it, his cum spilling out and dripping onto it, blending in with the soft white fabric. you wish you were disgusted, but it makes your mouth practically water, makes your pussy throb.

as he drills into you from behind and whispers nasty, beautiful things into your ear, you realize "slut" sounds so much better coming out of patrick's mouth than your boyfriend's.

[somnolenthour]

𝑨𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x f!Reader

CONTAINS: Fingering, nudity, unconsentual touching, light human trafficking(?), rich people nonsense, unconventional marriage

A/N: I had this concept in my head for like ever so... If people like it, I'll continue it.

You hissed out of habit, the sharp astringent scent of alcohol burning your nose as the nurse prepped your arm. It was obvious what was going to happen next and frankly, you didn’t want to see as the needle pierced your skin like it did several times before. The phlebotomist was skilled, probably doing this a million times before and while the prospect of getting your blood drawn again never got old and the fear of needles never exactly went away. The bundle of nerves that twisted and tied in on itself like an ouroboros-esque manifestation of anxiety trumped the other fears you usually had.

“You have beautiful veins.” The voice of the doctor was distant, your mind wandering to another place while they pressed down on the small wound with a rolled up piece of gauze.

“Thanks..” You looked down at your feet, focusing a bit on the glitter left in the cherry red polish that went unnoticed the night before when tired eyes focused on the ceiling instead of your roommate that painted them when she ran out of her own nails to paint. Courtney was especially nervous that their time in this school was ending.

“So why did you join?” Courtney lazily slumped on your bed like a cat, her stuffed animals probably more judgemental than she ever could be. The magazine on your lap growing clammy as you mulled over the reason you decided to ‘throw your life away’ by joining your mother’s footsteps by joining St.Monica’s academy for prestigious young women. It was practically a finishing school with a focus more on the aspect of marriage than education. It was invite only with only girls coming from money (like Courtney) or coming from good stock (much like yourself).

“I sort of wasn’t going to join.” Your fingers trailed along the magazine, the scent of the perfume sample wafting in the air in thought.

Courtney raised a brow, wanting you to elaborate.

“My folks divorced y’know? I know that’s like a huge no-no around here.” You blinked in thought. “But I guess they put that whole pride in making successful wives aside.”

“So…” Courtney blinked a bit. “Why join then?”

“Bored.” You shrugged. “Apparently I have a unique gene pool, though. Learned that yesterday.” You rubbed your arm.

“That’s cool.” The blonde rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, too lazy to crawl back to her own bed.

“Why did you join?”

“Oh right.. yeah.. Uhm…” She closed her eyes tight, biting her lip as she forced the answer to the surface like it was the hardest thing for her to do right now. “My folks thought it was easier than just sifting through all these eligible bachelors or whatever. I wasn’t really listening..” She put her hand on her head.

“So in a few years they’re just going to auction us off.” Sure the idea of marrying into wealth was nice but it was all up to chance.

“Did you ever want to marry for love?” Courtney opened her eyes, her tired expression looking for some type of reassurance but you couldn’t pin what type she really wanted. Instead you closed your magazine and laid back as well.

“I never really saw myself getting married in general. Plus love is so… complicated. All these guys want is a pretty face that will smile and suck their dick, turn a blind eye to whatever they’re doing behind closed doors because what business is it for us to know anyways?”

“I think I just want a baby..” Courtney sighed.

“Here’s your number.” The assisting nurse pressed a temporary tattoo to your neck, the cool sensation making you shiver beneath the cardigan you wore to stave away the early winter chill that seemed to creep in through the cracks of the building that have stayed with minimal updates since the Victorian era. You hopped off of the examination table and joined your peers outside of the office. All of them in a similar state as they stared out at the shiny new cars that lined up outside. The men outside that they did see were all dressed in black with masks to match it.

“It looks like a funeral out there..” Courtney cut through to you, her soft voice hoarse from her crying last night.

“Because it is.” You shook your head and all those years of learning etiquette, studying high societal rules, cooking, child rearing, sexual education (with physical courses for learning positions..), and whatever was slipping your mind were all about to put you into play, and it felt like it all was about to be booted out of your head in a matter of moments. They all wore numbers, they’d all get sold off to the highest bidder, and they all would become whatever their husband they wanted to be. Maybe it was the regret settling in, or maybe it was the terror of the unknown, but you didn’t want that anymore.

“Who do you think will sell the highest?” Courtney joined you by the window sill, both of your eyes trailing to the crowd and the realization you’ve known almost all of these faces for years falls on you. The same uniform shirtdress style that everyone attempted to modify so it didn’t look downright geriatric, hair pulled up, accessories, layers, different colored tights, loafers of varying neutral colors. This was all they knew.

“Evelyn.”

“I think Kristie might have her beat.”

“What about Jean? She has a bright smile.” They both glanced over at Jean, who was busy laughing and pointing out the window without a care. Any smart man would choose her. She’d be easy to parade around. “Not me though, I’m going to be twenty dollars.”

“Twenty dollars?!” Courtney snorted, “If you’re twenty, then I’m worth a pack of razzles!”

“Courtney, have some self-respect!” She huffed, “You’re at least worth a pack of tropical razzles.” You both laughed now, leaning on each other.

“Keep in touch with me if you can, okay?” She sniffled. “I don’t know how, but if we meet up again..”

“You know I will.” The hug was crushing, you both sniffling. “Please don’t cry..”

“I should tell you the same thing!”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Despite various warnings and being told about this constantly from established matrons to the point that it became an inside joke for after the first year, you absolutely weren’t ready for the pre-auction showing where you’d wander the room completely naked with these men (who might be your future husband in the next few hours) could touch you as they discussed amongst themselves.

Of course, you counted your blessings that you weren’t popular. You watched as others were bent and fingered, breast squeezed. Soft noises of pleasure and embarrassment joining a chorus of casual conversation and laughter. With no hiding spot around, you wandered until a hand snatched you mid-stride. “Looks like I found a stray.” A particularly smooth voice chuckled, pulling you toward his large frame. His face was hidden, but his brown hair was masterfully sculpted to the point where the fly-aways seemed like they were there with purpose. His hand tilted your neck to read your tattoo. “One-four-three.. Cute..”

You side-eyed him, his sense of humor falling flat.

“It means ‘I love you’ sweetheart.” Even with his eyes hidden, you could feel his eyes wander along your body. The heat blossoming beneath your skin seemed to travel as his gaze settled between your legs. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling hot and feather-like as beautifully manicured fingers circled your clit slowly. “Are you a virgin?” You gasped and almost stepped away but the anonymous man held you in place, the immediate slickness made you want to shrivel up but the sensation was unlike any other.

“Yes..” Sure you fooled around a little before. You were in your mid-twenties, but it was nothing more than some kisses and a bit of groping.

His finger moved away, leaving a trail of transparent slick connecting you both. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sweetheart.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Of course you were last.

Something karmic had to happen at some point in your four years, and whatever it cost, it equaled being dead last in an auction where you were certain that it was just perverted old men or something worse. You pushed back a displeased groan as a matron guided you to a stage with harsh studio lighting that made it hard to see out into the crowd of dark masks but you were certain there were several of them left. You felt like a deer in headlights as the distant mummer of conversation began to die down.

“Meet number #143!” The audioner called out, “No known health conditions, curious disposition, has a lineage for hyperovulation for the fellas that need heirs! Perfect companion for the businessman who loves travel, hymen still intact. The starting price is twenty-five thousand!”

The crowd exploded into shouts and waving signs, and your eyes darting around as a pit grew in your stomach. The price on your head ticking up and up, much like your heart rate.

786-

872!

900!

The crowd began to quiet down, and others were either unable or unwilling to touch the price. You stood in disbelief.

“Nine-hundred thousand dollars! Going once! Going Twice-”

“A million.” A sign raised, casual.

“A million!” The audioner screamed, the excitement overwhelming. “Going once! Going Twice! Sold to the gentleman before me!”

They wrote the number on the man’s sign on a sticker before slapping it over your tattoo, guiding you behind the stage to sign paperwork. “Congratulations Mrs.Bateman.” A matron smiled warmly as you signed your name on the marriage license.

“That was nervewreck-”

“A million?!” Evelyn was inconsolable from the other end of the room, her friends consoling her. “I barely broke seven hundred, and she’s a million?! Fucking bitch-”

You shrunk back, the pen being taken from you as you rushed to get dressed again.

Mrs. Bateman..

Why was that name familiar?

[bree-cheesy]

Sticky Club

Older Eddie Munson x fem!reader

A/N: Look at me pumping out two fics within like a day and a half. Be proud of me. I decided to try out the Older Eddie hype since I've seen these fics everywhere lately. I hope I did the whole trend justice. It's a little short, but I didn't want to write a huge fic and just wanted to get straight into the shit y'all wanna read anyway.

Side Note: I deleted this cause I wasn't super proud of it at first, but I'm reposting this because I feel like it definitely could've done better than it did. Not to be cocky or anything.

Credit to @patrick-stewart for the gif!

Warnings: SMUT 18+!! MINORS FUCK OFF! Porn with a little bit of plot. Not much plot in this. (kissing, dirty talk, sort of rough eddie, fingering, nipple play, public sex (club bathroom), dirty club dancing, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style rough fucking, loud reader, giving of hickeys.) Older Eddie Munson (early 30's), Younger reader (mid 20's), language. No use of Y/N. Strange guy tried to grind up against reader on the dance floor. I think that's it. As always, let me me know and I'll fix it!

Word Count: 1873

______________________________________________________________

You were kind of a hermit. You didn’t like to go out much and parties just weren’t your scene. You obviously went out occasionally, but it was probably once a month if that. It’s not that you hated people, you were just focused on your college work and trying to keep up good grades. Your best friends Robin, Nancy, and Steve were avid party goers. They always tried to get you to go out with them, but being the youngest of the group and the only one still in school, there just wasn’t much free time to go out with them. Tonight was different though. It was the end of the semester and all grades were final so you could finally let loose a little. Your friends were taking you out to a concert. It was for a band you hadn’t heard of before, but they said it was an old friend they all had from high school.

“Girl, you look great, don’t even.” Nancy looked at you and smiled. You were wearing an outfit you usually didn’t. Most of your outfits consisted of jeans and sweatshirts, not short tight skirts and tank tops like this. You frowned and looked at yourself in the mirror again.

“You sure?” You pulled the skirt down a little. “Seems a little… skimpy.”

“Trust me, you will be getting laid tonight wearing that. Trust me.” Robin announced, barging in the room uninvited. She looked you up and down and gave you a thumbs up. “You ready? Steve and I are ready to leave.” Nancy nodded and pulled her shoes on before walking out. You sighed and followed the two girls out.

You got to the club the band was performing at and noticed it was packed. There were huge groups of people everywhere. Girls wearing tight band tees and skirts that pretty much showed their whole ass. It smelled like sweat and vodka. Kinda made you gag a little, but you toughed through it. Nancy led you over to the bar to order drinks for everyone while Steve and Robin claimed a booth. You two walked back with the drinks and you slid in the booth next to Robin. You were all talking when a tall man with long brown curly hair, a guitar strapped across her shoulder, and had a t-shirt of the band on it.

“Eddie!” Nancy stood up and hugged him tight. Steve fist bumped him and Robin gave him a high five. Steve introduced you to Eddie and you noticed he stared a little longer than normal. You blushed softly and nervously sipped your fruity drink when he complimented you. “We’re super excited you’re finally performing here! We missed being able to see you.” Nancy scooted over so Eddie could slide in next to her.

“Yeah, missed seeing you guys! This will be good, I promise.” Eddie chuckled and stole a sip from Steve’s drink. Steve scowled and snatched the drink back.

Eddie soon left and the rest of you got up to get close to the performance. You were so nervous. The spark you felt with Eddie was such a huge shock, now you were scared to be so up close to him. The performance started and you didn’t notice how hard you were biting your lip while staring at Eddie until you tasted blood. He glanced at you and smirked while playing the guitar when he saw the blood on your bottom lip. You blushed and looked down. When he started singing you were dancing with Robin while Steve was dancing with Nancy. Eddie’s eyes were on you like a hawk. God, he couldn’t look away. That tight skirt you were wearing was riding up while you swayed your hips. He could almost see the bottom of your black lacy panties.

At the end of the performance, you were still dancing with Robin. You felt someone come up behind you and the strange hands held you tight against the body behind you. You turned your head and saw a weird man practically drooling at you and grinding up against your ass. You pushed him off and Robin stepped between the two of you. He put up a fight with Steve until suddenly he was thrown on the ground. Eddie pushed him to the ground and got security to kick him out.

“You okay?” Steve looked at you and put his hands on your shoulders. You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah. He didn’t do anything serious.” He nodded and let go of you.

The group, with Eddie, sat back down at your booth and Eddie slid in next to you, pushing up close to you so Robin could fit in next to you two. Your breath caught in your throat. He smelled like sweat and faded cologne. It was a scent you could get addicted to. It was dangerous. You learned Eddie was 32. He was a little older than the rest of the group, but that just made him all that much hotter.

“How’d you meet these idiots?” Eddie asked, looking at you with a smile and a tenderness in his eyes.

“Oh, I met Robin when she was graduating and the rest of them kind of just took me in.” You looked down at your drink and sipped it. Eddie put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him, squeezing you slightly.

“Well, any friend of these people is my friend.” You chuckled nervously and glanced up at him.

Steve was talking about something that happened at his job when you felt Eddie’s hand on your thigh. You gulped nervously and felt him run his fingers in soft circles on your inner thigh. You bit the inside of your lip when he leaned a little closer into you. He squeezed your thigh and raised his hand higher. You put your hand on his, stopping him from going further. He cleared his throat and kept his hand on your knee.

The group had all gotten up to dance and Eddie took your hand, pulling you with him. You gasped softly when he pulled your back into his chest and held onto your hips, swaying the both of you to the music. You bit your lip and shut your eyes, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He ran his hand up your thigh and over your belly, lightly rubbing your breasts over your shirt.

“Eddie…” You moaned softly and he leaned his head down, kissing the side of your neck. You reached a hand back and tangled it in his hair. He tucked his fingers into the top of your skirt and squeezed your ass with the other one. He kissed up your neck and pressed his lips against your ear.

“Feel good, sweetheart? Everyone’s looking at us. Some of the girls look like they wanna kill you.” He flipped you around and you gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grinned and grabbed your ass with both hands, pressing your hips more up against him. “Such a pretty girl…”

You moaned softly and he pressed his forehead against yours, grinding harder against you to the music. “Eddie… please…” 

He grinned and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the bathroom. He locked the door and pressed you up against the sink. His lips crashed down on yours and you groaned into his mouth, kissing him back almost immediately. You hitched your leg up around his waist and he lifted you up onto the counter. Your hands went to the buttons on his black dress shirt and started undoing them, running your fingers over every expanse of skin you exposed. He kissed down your neck and sucked a few marks into it. You smiled and moaned, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. He pulled your tank top off and dropped it on the floor. He kissed you again and squeezed your breasts over your lacy bra.

“Eddie, fuck… that feels so good…!” You moaned into his mouth and he grinned, reaching back to take the bra off, throwing it off somewhere in the sticky club bathroom.

“Yeah? Feel s’good when I touch you, baby? Wanna feel my mouth?” He pulled back and wrapped your legs around his waist. You nodded and moaned, digging the heels of your heels into the back of his thighs. He grinned and his lips instantly attached to your nipple, sucking and biting it. You cried out and threw your head back, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His hands went down and hiked your skirt up so he could slip his hand in your panties. “Fuck… So goddamn wet already…!” He groaned and swirled the tip of his tongue against your nipple. He rubbed your clit in time with his tongue and you panted heavily, grinding up against his hand. “Such a good fucking girl…” He grabbed your thighs and pulled your panties down your legs, shoving them in his back pocket. He slipped two fingers inside you in time with his thumb rubbing your clit. You instantly clenched down around his fingers and moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“E-Eddie, your fingers a-are so big…!” You whined and bucked up harder against his hand. “I need… I need more… Please, Eddie…”

“Please what, honey? Use your words.” He mockingly pouted and fingered you faster.

“F-Fuck me! Please fuck me!” You cried out and sobbed in pleasure, pulling at your nipples.

He pulled you off the counter and bent you over it. He pulled his aching cock out and spit on his hand, stroking it a little before slowly pushing in. You groaned in unison, creating a song of pleasure between the two of you. He didn’t hold back at all. He growled like an animal and fucked you hard, the slapping of skin loud and could be heard over the muffled music behind the bathroom door. You sobbed, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure, moaning and gripping the counter hard.

“Goddamn, baby… So fucking tight around me… Gonna fucking milk me dry, huh? Want my cum deep inside you, honey?” You nodded and moaned louder.

“Y-Yes…! Please cum so deep inside me! I want it so bad…!” Your mouth hung open and he went faster.

“Cum for me first, baby. I’ll give you anything you want if you cum all over my cock.” He groaned and rubbed your clit in time with thrusts.

You cried out, finally given permission and came harder around his cock, squeezing hard around him and moaning loudly. Eddie grunted and groaned, grabbing your chin and pulling you up to kiss you hard, still pounding into you from behind. You begged and pleaded with him to cum and he finally granted you your wish, cumming deep inside you and moaning into your ear. You both caught your breath and your eyes shut as you slumped against the counter. You heard him grab some paper towels and get them wet, wiping your sensitive cunt clean before helping you fix your clothes. You both walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later and your group all gave you knowing looks. Eddie grinned and kissed your cheek while you blushed and buried your face deep in his chest in embarrassment.

[mostdisconcerting]

Bad Day=Binging ScarNash

I had an interesting day today. Not in a good way. So as one does in such a situation, I went back to rewatch ScarNash. Cuz they’re my comfort ship.

This is just me reviewing almost every scene of the episode so I can forget that life exists for a little while🙃

Today I picked 4x04. And goodness I do not regret it one bit.

Starting with Patrick and the fat goose line. I’m sorry but why did that have to be so damn funny. “My fellow punters…” and “copious amounts of whiskey”, with his very Frank expression shifted my mood from stressed to joyful immediately. And I only now noticed that as Patrick and Eliza leave to meet Carter, Eliza yeets a paper in Clarence’s direction (or at least she tried).

I applaud Clarence’s “shit the parents are gonna argue if I don’t step in” senses. We love him for them.

I’m gonna make a rare mention of William, but I felt so bad for him when Ivy started talking about her mom’s gout. If I was eating anything resembling her description, I would gag to no end. Ruined the poor dudes snack.

Watching Patrick panic is probably my favorite part of this episode. Bros just pacing up, down, round and round, trying to think of what to do. (He’s literally just me but toned down and with an adult brain 😂)

That scene at Fallons was perfect. That unanimous “who?”, and the cover up that “we do love a little gossip now and then.”. It’s adorable and funny to see these to be in such sync and in such odds as they are.

Also, idk if anyone else noticed but she’s holding his ARM in the stables scene?! How-wha-why did I not notice that?

Poor Fitzroy. He could’ve had a much nicer career with his father out of the way. He’s known for being his father’s son, this way he could learn to be his own man.

We gotta talk about that cab scene. Literally, Patrick was trying to make things better by saying “it’s not your fault they left”, and just made it worse by adding “it’s mine, I should’ve never left you in charge”. She looked so genuinely offended by what he said, only to be shut down cuz they were literally in the middle of investigating.

Then they just break into Fallon’s office like it’s nothing and start bickering about the resignations again. She said she didn’t fire any of them. And then she admitted to firing multiple. Which is great I guess. So… we have that. Then they just hop through the office when someone comes in. Like. They have no right to be this adorable. Why are they literally my grandparents on steroids.

Turns out the lines about Eliza sulking started in this episode, which clearly adds to why she’s pissed when he spends the entirety of 4x05 just telling her she’s sulking and she should not sulk.

Then we have scene where Patrick’s pacing again. And I don’t blame him for making Eliza nervous too. Like he said “good I don’t see why I should suffer alone” (which is a quote I’ve been using way to much in real life recently lol)

Clarence makes his grand entry with some food and the info that Gibson is here. 🙃

And I’m finally going to end on those last two scenes of them together (cuz I skipped William kissing Eliza)

Them blackmailing Carter was hilarious. I mean, we know both of them were hella nervous cuz he could’ve just gunned both of them down there but that’s whatever. I love the little voice moderations and the expressions Eliza and Patrick pass each other basically saying “he’s agreed, now let’s get the hell out of here before he changes his mind and kills us”

Then we got Patrick praising Eliza. That could’ve played out to be an even more heartfelt scene had Eliza not seen the time and ran off. He looked disappointed, but he seemed to let it go (unlike William would’ve as we know) , understanding she probably forgot to do something .

Makes me sad seeing potential like this being flushed down a toilet.

They’re an old married couple and I love that for them🙃

[stevenblueniverse]

Finally after you voted for it chapter 14 of the selkie au is here!

Warning!: NSFW

Chapter 14: love

"So....", blue said, looking at the very embarrassed yellow, "what are you doing here?", she repeated. "Oh nothing! Nothing", yellow said, moving away from the icons and to the door blue was standing in front of. "You sure?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "I thought it would be something about bats", yellow's eyes widened and she took some steps back, trembling, "I-I said those things...out loud? And you, you heard them!?", she yelped, blue looked at her clulessly. "Huh? I was talking about this!", blue said, taking a wet piece of paper from her coat, it was a photo of two bats yellow had drew, blue had found them the day she left.

"I thought you'd be praying to get your art recognised you're very good", blue said, giving her the drawing, yellow took a deep breath and relaxed, she was terrfied she has said all that out loud and blue had heard every bit of it. "Thanks", yellow said, still a bit nervous, "it was just a little doodle of some flying foxes, I saw a lot of them back when i was traveling near Oceania", the drawing was of two flying foxes hanging upside down and kissing, just as yellow had mentioned in her prayer, one fox was drawn exclusively with yellow pens, the other only in blue.

Blue walked over to the holy icons, yellow watched her closely, wondering if blue even knew what they where. Blue stuck out her right hand and pointed to one icon, she laughed, "weird seeing him so far away from home!", yellow looked over and saw blue was pointing to an icon of Saint Patrick of Ireland. "Oh, you know him?", yellow asked, blue laughed some more, "I'm suprised you do!", she told her, pointing the icons again, and looking at the other ones to see who else she could recognise. "Eventhough I'm not from Ireland I know about him quite a lot, I had to do some weird study about him and saints from there for some project back in school, the priests loved it!", yellow reminisced, her mother was very proud of her then, the proudest she had ever been.

"Now, it's best we get out of here, the walls are very thin and people can probably hear us", yellow said, approaching blue and guiding her away from the icons, blue smirked, "you want me to take you off this ship? To escape?", she asked, yellow shook her head, "N-NO!", she loudly shut her down, "I thought you said be quiet", blue laughed, making yellow embarrassed, "Ugh, sorry", yellow huffed "let's just get away from here before people hear us".

Yellow blew out the single small candle lighting up the entire prayer room and slowly opened the door, it creaked loudly, her room wasn't far, and the ship was in complete darkness so no one would be able to spot them. Yellow took blue to her room and closed the door behind, her room was just a bed with a desk in the corner, yellow lay down and looked up to blue who was trying to make out the place but couldn't as it was so dark and had to be guided by yellow to the bed. "Do selkies come from Ireland? You sound Irish and since you where familar with Irish saints I think you are", yellow asked her, blue nodded, "I am but not all selkies, as long as they are seals, there is selkies, and they're everywhere!".

Blue sat on the bed and looked down to yellow, they both could barely fit on it, it was much smaller than the bed they shared at the small hotel. "I thought people all stayed in one room on ships like these", blue said, still trying to look around in the dark, "I'm one of the few people with a room of their own, most do share rooms, I used to share this with someone else but he got kicked off here a while back, I used to have a bunk bed with him but some idiot named eleazer stole it from me", she huffed, her old bunk bed was much better too, this single bed had no space at all. "If I still had that bed I couldve let you stay with me", yellow rolled over, facing the wall, blue looked at the bed and tried her best to analyse the remaining space, "why can't I just share this one with you?", she asked, trying to lay down, barely fitting, "see! I'm able to fit!"

Yellow turned around and looked at blue, she blushed heavily, "a-are you sure!?", she studdered, "there is absolutely no space now! You can't move without touching me!", blue hugged yellow, catching her off guard "that's fine by me", blue said, resting her head on yellows chest, definitely being able to feel how quick her heart was beating right now, "you're very soft yellow", she wrapped her arms around her, if felt like she was basically laying on top of yellow now, she couldn't move at all, she was starting to panic, she couldn't tell if this was the best of most awkward experience of her entire life.

The door next to the one leading to yellow's room opened and out stepped melchizedek, he yawned and stretched, then froze, he could hear talking coming from yellow's room, and it didn't sound like her. Her approached the room, the wooden floor squeaking as he moved, and put his ear to the door, someone was definitely in there with her, but he couldn't tell who. Before he could open the door, a voice asked him, "what are you doing up so early?", it was jasper, the only other woman on the ship.

Jasper was tall and very muscular, she was a well decorated army veteran and her body was covered in scars, her skin was originally very pale but from her years of exploring she was always very tan, she looked down to melchizedek who was half her height and very skinny, he was pale and sickly looking compared to her, she could probably crush him with her bare hands. "I heard someone talking to yellow in her room", he squeaked, jasper raised an eyebrow, "and how does that concern you?", she asked, making him take some steps back from the room. "B-because we don't know who that is! It could be anyone!", he told her, "still, it doesn't involve you so why do you care", her voice became more menacing and melchizedek finally gave up. "....I guess you're right", he admitted, "good, you finally grew a brain, now get back to bed, no one cares enough to hunt you down anymore", she told him, before walking away and leaving him awkwardly standing outside his room.

Melchizedek was the son of a Italian diplomat and a high ranking member of the Thai Royal Court, as soon as he was born the Thai king himself exiled his mother and threatened his diplomat father. Throughout his childhood he was told the Thai army was after him and wanted him dead, it was one of the reasons he stayed in the sea, barely touching land. He had become very paranoid over the years and suspected spies where all around him, even kicking off suspected spies off the ship or trying to Kill them. To him, hearing blue's voice meant yellow had been speaking with a spy out to kill him and he needed to act fast before it was too late.

"Yellow?", blue asked, looking up to her, "y-yeah?", she awkwardly replied, "are you okay? You seem very nervous", she sat up and looked at her very flustered face, the moon was shining in through the small window, finally giving the room some light. "It's just I...", yellow looked away from her, she knew it was Impossible to hide it from her anymore, if she kept lying to herself it would be torture, "i- I need to tell you something", she started studdering, struggling to get the proper words out that she needed to say, instead dragging it out and making it even more torturous. Blue leaned in closer, making it worse, "what is it? You can tell me anything", she smiled, her soft voice was like heaven to yellow's ears and slightly calming her, "I...I am...", yellow took a deep breath, "I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU BLUE!", she finally spat it out, blue didnt seem to react much, she just stared.

"Oh..." was all blue said, she didn't move, she stayed right next to yellow, holding her even tighter. "Do you want to escape from this place?", blue asked her, lowering her face, nearly touching yellow's, "it seems like an awful place here", she whispered, before lightly kissing yellow on the lips. "No I can't leave here", yellow said, trying to process what was happening and praying she wasn't dreaming, "where would I go?", she looked over to blue who was taking off her coat, unsurprisingly she was wearing nothing underneath. "I can take you somewhere no would be able to find you", blue told her, neatly folding the coat and putting it on the ground next to the bed, she crawled on top of yellow, yellow still wasn't really prepared for this and started breathing very heavily and squirming.

"Would you take me to some selkie place underwater? I'd drown!", yellow laughed, trying to keep her composure as blue unbuttoned her shirt, "we'll see", blue told her, taking of yellows shirt and looking down at her body, she was very muscular compared to blue and had much smaller breasts but what caught blue's attention the most was the large scar in the middle of her chest. "What's this?", blue asked, running her finger over the scar, "i-its nothing", yellow studdered, feeling shivers run down her body as blue touched it, blue looked back at her, "you sure?", she asked, before continuing and grabbing yellow's shoulders and kissing her, this time a much longer and passionate one than last time.

"Hey melkie! You forgot your boots!", a man named eleazer yelled from outside the room next to yellow. He stepped outside and looked for melchizedek, his roommate. "where could that idiot be now!", he thought to himself, "Hey! Melchizedek! I know you don't like my nickname but where are ya?", he called one more time, walking past yellows room and to the stairs, when he walked past her room her could hear something, he listened in and giggled, "melchizedek can't be in there right?", he joked, "with that weirdo? No one would want to go near her!", he laughed to himself, probably looking quite insane.

Eleazer went to the top of the ship, it was still night but the sun would be rising soon, there was melchizedek he was talking to another man named methuselah, he was much older than the two and had been on the ship for much longer than them, the three of them had become very close. "Jasper is just like that with everyone, I don't think she was targeting you", methuselah told the very paranoid melchizedek, "shes not like that with that diamond girl! I suspect she's paying her, yellow diamond is the daughter of that designer white diamond!", melchizedek told him. "Hey you two!", eleazer ran to them, giggling, "you're awake?", Melchizedek asked, "I heard your snoring not too long ago!".

"That doesn't matter! Guess what I heard!", eleazer laughed, "what?", methuselah asked, looking behind him to make sure it wasn't involving jasper and she wasn't about to kill them all. "I heard yellow diamond...", he laughed, melchizedek's eyes widened, he was right, she was doing something ,"....GETTING FUCKED!", he laughed, methuselah refused to believe this, "no way, she thinks she's better than us all! Shed never do that with one of us", eleazer laughed some more, "come with me! You'll be able to hear it all!", he lead them to just outside her room and they listened in all night.

[artzzyb00-27]

Car Safety; Worried Parents

You already know, let's just hop in.

Harry getting his license was nerve-wracking. Not for him, for Athena. She'd seen many reckless teenagers lose control while driving. So when Harry got his permit, she had the excuse of still being the one driving, or at least being able to make sure he was safe. With the license, he would be alone.

Bobby was nervous too. Mainly because he didn't want to go on a call and see his kid(yes he saw Harry as his own) in the wrecked car. He and Michael were both trying to look for a car that wasn't over the top for Harry's first. May wasn't worried, she trusted Harry. She just made him promise she wouldn't receive a call while she was working about him.

"I know that will be me when Chris gets his license," Eddie said in the loft of the firehouse. Bobby had shared the news that Harry had gotten his license and decided to wait to get a car. Smart choice with how the market was right now.

"I'm worried that Denny will use it as an excuse to leave whenever we're in arguments. Driving while you are angry is the most dangerous." Hen said. Chimney was contemplating how old he would even let Jee-Yun get close to the driver's seat.

"Harry's a smart kid. He's Athena's. He'll be fine on the road when he gets his car."

"You better not give him your Jeep Buck," Bobby warned his surrogate son.

"Don't worry, saving that for Jee-Yun."

"Don't you dare Buckley. Besides why not give it to Chris?" Eddie raised an eyebrow and gave Buck an, 'Oh yeah?', look despite the comment being Chimney's.

"Cause then I'd end up sleeping in the car. Besides Chris already called dibs on the truck."

"Which he'll get when we get another one. So don't even think about it." Raising his hands in defense, he walked behind the counter to help Bobby with lunch. After eating peacefully, the alarm went off and they ran to the truck.

"Alright, we gotta car crash. A Jeep Wrangler and a Lambo." Ravi winced at imaging the ways it could've happened. No matter what, both people in the cars were probably okay. It was a rainy day so either of the cars could have lost control from the wet cement.

When they arrived at the scene, they saw Athena who looked scared. She walked up to the team and debriefed them.

"Teenager in the jeep. Seventeen, turning eighteen tomorrow. The father was in the copilot seat. Lambo was an older man. Had to handcuff him." She explained pointing at the 40-year-old-looking man. Who was cursing the kid across from him. The poor kid looked terrified.

"Already questioned him, I need you guys to get the parent out, he's knocked unconscious." Looking behind her, they were able to see the jeep tipped on its right side. Through the windshield, they could see the father's face. With blood dripping down slightly. Rushing into action they were able to pull him out and make sure he was alive.

When he felt that someone was holding him, he stirred a bit.

"Sir, we're gonna help you out. Can you tell me your name?"

"Mm, Patrick Mendieta. My son, where is he?" He slurred out trying to break free weakly while looking for his kid.

"He's safe sir don't worry."

"You don't understand, he had top surgery a few months ago. Stitches are closed completely but-,"

"In that case, we'll double-check. Right now we need to get you to the hospital to fix up that head of yours." Hen told him while Buck went to go check on the kid.

"Hey there, what's your name?"

"Oliver. I swear it wasn't my fault. We were just driving like normal and he came out of nowhere."

"Yeah right! You were going too fucking slow! Idiot children, don't have no respect-"

"Sir, calm down before I make you," Buck said, effectively making him shut up. Looking back at the kid, he saw the tears streaming down his face. Anger in his eyes.

"He wasn't watching the speed limit. And somehow it's my fault to be careful in the rain."

"I know kid, trust me he'll get reprimanded. Right now I need to make sure you're okay. Your door took the hit it seems." Oliver looked back to his car to realize that Buck was right.

The driver's side was dented, which made the fault immediately go to the other driver. With that he let Buck examine him. Few bruised ribs and a sprained wrist. Nothing serious but would have to go to the doctor to check his back.

After sending the kid away, they dealt with any more issues the rain had caused before heading back to the firehouse. Athena had gotten there early and was sitting at the dinner table eating the food she made for dinner.

"Athena?"

"Couldn't go back immediately. Not after that. Can't stop thinking about Harry." Massaging her shoulders, Bobby made sure she was relaxed before driving back out on patrol.

When the shift ended Eddie and Buck gave Chris an extra long hug. Hen gave Denny another pop quiz on how to handle driving in the rain, and Athena did not let Harry drive any car for a month after that. Not without initial protest. However, it turned to guilt after hearing about the accident from his classmate Oliver.

[ghostgirl-22]

patricks first time bottoming #thinking

Hmm 🤔 yes work that beautiful brain <3

—-

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

Patrick handles it like he handles everything else, a bit of bravado, a ton of audacity and maybe a little too much vulnerability.

He’s so nervous but he’s not telling Art that. No, as far as Art knows Patrick’s done this a million times and he’s the expert here. It took some research, which admittedly for him meant searching the porn sites. He got a little caught up and just ended up masturbating a lot but he thinks he pretty much gets the idea.

“Wait,” Art hums, he’s playing with the bottle of lube distractedly. “How will I know how much to use?”

Patrick’s been lying in front of him for quite some time. Art’s being overly analytical, he does that when he’s nervous. It’s the exact opposite of Patrick’s style of coping with nerves. He’d rather jump in feet first and back track if he needs to. The anticipation is making him a little crazy.

“Okay so how about you start by putting any on?” Patrick says impatiently.

Art frowns, Patrick can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Maybe I’m supposed to— to use my fingers. I uh— I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well I mean it stretches and stuff. Like girls do.” Patrick explains.

“Really?” Art asks

“Yeah definitely,” Patrick says confidently. Hoping he’s right. But he’s seen some pretty big things shoved up there so he’s almost certainly right.

“What’s it feel like?” Art asks.

“I mean honestly it’s the best thing ever, probably hurts a tiny bit the first time but uh then it’s just moaning and groaning for hours. Sometimes you could take one or two or three in a row.”

Arts eyes go wide as Patrick’s talking. “You’ve done that before?”

“Oh definitely,” Patrick says, “I told you I’ve been to the gay club before.” That parts true. He’s gone with a buddy before but it had actually been a little overwhelming. He’d never felt that brazen with it before and ended up pussying out after the one guy he made out with asked him if he wanted to come over. He’s still not sure what made him cry on the drive home but that’s not Arts business either.

“Okay well then I guess since I only have the one,” Art says, idly. “But I’m gonna try my fingers first anyway.”

“Sure,” Patrick says. “If that makes you feel better but you gotta do something babe.”

Art chuckles a bit. “Yeah okay.” He starts coating his fingers in lube and it’s starting to feel real again. Patrick feels his heart rate pick up. He’s really hopeful that the pain really is only a little bit. God forbid he can’t handle it and he has to admit to Art that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing either.

He feels Art’s fingertips and he holds his breath as he prepares for the breach. Art’s gentle, long fingers curl into him and Art presses his other palm lightly against Patrick’s abdomen. “You okay?” Art asks.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, attempting to sound light but he just sounds too quiet. He clears his throat and puts the bass back in his voice. “Yes good now what about your dick?”

“You’re not breathing,” Art observes.

Patrick lets the air out of his lungs and takes another deep breath in. Art’s moving his fingers around and it feels weird actually. Like he wants to like it but it’s odd having something, someone inside him like this. Then something odd happens… as Arts working his fingers around he feels him scraping along what must be an overly sensitive nerve ending. He gasps and Art panics.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, God no. That was— actually can you do that again?”

“Uh I don’t know what I did,” Art says frowning, “this?”

He scissors his fingers and they brush against that spot again and Patrick moans and takes a breath, but Arts watching him so he does it again and again until Patrick feels like his cock is full to bursting and he’s about to come untouched.

“Okay,” he gasps, “you said you wanted to fuck me but I’m about to fucking cum on your fingers. Will you just—just use your dick already.”

Art is smiling at him as he eases his fingers out. He too slowly covers his dick in lube. Patrick feels impatient for it. If the fingers felt like that the real thing must be amazing. And he wants Art to do it. Needs it to be Art. Even if he’ll never know he was the first.

Art takes his time pushing in and yeah… god… the feeling is different. Much, much fuller. It’s like he feels Art pushing in inch by fucking inch. “Patrick,” Art breathes. “How is it so… mmh…I thought you said it stretches. Doesn’t feel like pussy. t’s so much tighter.” He groans.

Patrick’s holding his breath again. He can feel every bit of the stretch and the ache of it. He can hear Art breathing, oddly he thinks he can feel his heart beating. He’s nearly entirely breached and it feels like… a lot.

Fuck.

“Oh god,” he whispers.

“Is it okay?” Art moves, slowly sliding back out.

“Yeah, yeah good,” Patrick says, throwing his arm over his face to hide his eyes as they fill with tears.

“Are you sure?” Art asks.

“Yes, please, Art, please fuck me.”

He feels Art press a soft kiss to his mouth, “breathe,” he whispers and Patrick lets the air out and then he’s starting again. Slowly, after maybe a few borderline painful pushes Patrick isn’t squeezing his eyes shut anymore. And distantly he can feel a bit of arousal starting to build back up.

He doesn’t move his arm because honestly he’s a bit of a mess for this. Art is so gentle and this feels like intimacy on an entirely different scale. Patrick hadn’t expected that and honestly there’s no way to backtrack now.

It happens right at the end, Patrick is feeling the coil and the build in his stomach, Arts slipping in and out so much easier and then he feels Art starting to press at the spot… the spot that nearly made him come untouched. And suddenly, he’s grabbing himself.

“Fuck, fuck oh fuck,” Patrick groans as Art makes contact again and again and he’s jerking himself as sticky creamy ropes of come start to slide down his fingers. Art eases his dick out and jerks himself off, till little spurts of pearly white spill wet and hot all over Patrick’s bare stomach.

Art sighs with relief.

Patrick plays with Arts hair, certain now that he’s wiped away all sign that he’d been crying. The emotions aren’t gone though as Art collapses into his arms, smearing the mess between them. “It’s your first time huh?” Art sighs.

Patrick ponders continuing the lie but curiosity gets the better of him. “How did you know?”

“You were shivering for one,” Art says softly.

“Oh,” Patrick says, he hadn’t even realised it.

“Also you still need to learn to delete your internet history if you’re gonna use my laptop to look up porn.” Art adds dryly.

Patrick laughs, “Right. I’ll uh remember to do that. I just… mine got some kinda virus and shut down.”

“I wonder why,” Art says, smirking. Patrick grins, so Art knew the whole time. Which explains his nerves and his pace and his concern for not hurting Patrick. It makes Patrick ache in a way he doesn’t really understand but right now he can swallow down on it. He lets out a contented sigh and just hugs Art closer.

[makeyoumine69]

Take me Back to the Start

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

◥ SUMMARY: You couldn't imagine that just one random meeting can change your life forever.

◥ WARNINGS: Swearing, Patrick being a dick, super toxic behavior.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 2k

◥ A/N: Finally, I wrote some backstory about how Cupcake and Patrick met; I hope you like the whole idea of story-driven fics!

◥ SONG REC: Pastel Ghost - Dark Beach😈

◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Another busy day at Pierce & Pierce turned into a full mess, as you didn’t know how to handle all the things you had to do, starting with some shitty paperwork and ending with a lot of calculations for the upcoming monthly report. Being an accountant in a company like that was hella tough, but you never used to complain because you loved your job, anyway. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N), do you hear me?” Your colleague called you several more times before you finally glanced at her as you were sitting at your desk, which was littered with different documents.

“Yeah, what happened?” You grumbled, rubbing your tired eyes as if it could freshen you up a bit.

“Need your help, I know you are busy, but...” 

Sighing, you put your pencil on the table, taking a sip of the awful coffee you never liked. “Surprise me, what problems do we have this time?”

“Ah,come on!” she waved away, but her face turned red. “It’s nothing crucial, just some courier stuff…”

“What stuff?”

With a dull thud, your colleague placed a thick folder on your desk, with some papers inside—it looked like something really important. “(Y/N), please, save me! I need to finish my report today or our old witch of a manager will tear me apart!”

Crossing your arms on your chest, you gave her a judging gaze, shaking your head and lamenting: “Did I tell you that your habit of procrastinating will end up badly?” 

“I know… I just had a date yesterday and…”

Frowning, you stopped her with a hand. “Heard this story already! Better tell me who our courier is and when will he come?”

“Gosh, (Y/N)! You’re the best,” she nearly jumped in place before she rushed towards your desk once again and took a seat on the wooden surface of it. “I don’t really remember the name of the courier service, but I remember the courier will arrive in about… Agh-an hour and a half!”

“Okay, okay,” nodding your head, you grabbed a folder and pulled it closer to inspect it a bit. “To whom are we sending these docs? I can’t see the recipient's address…”

“Oh shit, I probably forgot to fill it in!”

“Great….” You were about to facepalm when an unexpected knock at the door got your attention.

A slightly familiar face showed up in your office, but you couldn’t remember who exactly the old woman was and your colleague seemed to be quite confused too.

“Sorry, ladies for disturbing you, but I got a call from the receptionist. It said some courier was waiting for his package.”

Now, you were furious. “But you said an hour and a half!”

“Sorry, sorry! I probably mixed something up… Wait! I have a card which belongs to the one guy from that company,” she quickly gave it to you, looking very embarrassed. “There should be an address!”

“You better hope it’s correct,” you stood up from your armchair, taking the folder with you as you were in a nervous rush, and you hated situations like that. “And when I come back, I don’t want to know how you got this card, okay?”

Scowling, you excused yourself to the old lady in the doorways as you moved past her, sensing yourself on the verge of annoyance. 

The hall was very crowded at this time of the day, nothing new actually, but the long waiting for a goddamn elevator irritated you, especially now, when you needed to be as swift as you could cause you didn’t like to be late, ignoring the fact that this whole situation was already fucked up not your fault.

Looking around you were searching for the courier when you noticed a handsome guy standing near the reception desk. Still anxious, you strolled across the hall toward that man, hoping your intuition won’t fail you.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said, tapping his shoulder. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Good afternoon! What a busy day!” he exclaimed, swinging his hands in the air. “Uh, I’m here to pick up some docs from a lady whose name is…”

“Cindy Harrington?” The guy looked at the small piece of paper before replying: “Yes! That’s right.”

“Well, I’m not her but I brought you the stuff you need.” Smiling, you gave him the folder, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank you so much! I thought I was gonna be here forever.”

“Erm, sorry for the delay!”

“It's not a big deal, have a nice day!” He grinned in response before turning around and walking away.

Pleased with yourself, you were watching him going through the crowd of people when you remembered you didn’t write the recipient's address and didn’t even hand him a business card, which Cindy gave you before you left your office. Damn, how could you forget?!

Breathing heavily, you broke out of the place to chase the courier, yelling: “Sir, wait!” 

You could barely see his back in the endless flow of people, but you didn’t give up, almost running across the hall, fumbling with the business card in your hand.

“Sir!” 

You shouted again and again, seeing nothing but his departing figure, feeling adrenaline rushing in your veins. The guy was so close and so far away but once you thought you almost got him; you felt a strong hit right against your body as it seemed like you bumped into someone, someone very solid. 

The clash was so sudden; you let the business card fall on the floor and almost right away some yuppies stepped on it without even noticing. Once you got down to grab it, you spotted a pair of patent leather shoes. Swallowing hard, you raised your eyes to see a tall, good-looking man, whose facial expression caused your heart to skip a beat.

“Are you blind?” He yelled at you, taking off his headphones angrily. 

“I’m sorry, sir...” You conceded, standing up and noticing how tiny you were compared to him.

“You are just sorry? Look at that!” he pointed at his shoes, with a cigar in his hand. “I bought them only yesterday! Do you even know how much they cost?”

“Sir, I’m really sorry!”

“Do you really think ya sorry is fuckin’ enough?” He blurted out, making everyone around look at you.

It was so frustrating; you even closed your eyes for a moment as you didn’t really know how to react in this situation.

“You are not only blind but deaf too?”

“Sir, I already apologised to you!” you suddenly sneered in a stern voice. “I’m sorry, but right now I don’t have a shoe brush to solve this problem!”

He seemed to be shocked, as he looked at you in disbelief before shouting in a furious voice: “You fuck…”

“Bateman!” 

Shaking slightly, you flinched and glanced to the side to see a dark-haired yuppie who patted your offender’s shoulder; that was the best moment for you to run away from here, disappearing into the crowd of people.

“Hey, we aren’t finished!” Patrick screamed at your back, pushing Timothy Bryce from his way. 

“What’s wrong?” Bryce asked, giving him a questionable look. “Did that chick reject you?”

“W-what?” Bateman almost choked from indignation, brushing off Timothy’s hands from his shoulders. “Did you even see her? She’s ugly as hell!”

“Yeap, definitely not your type,” he clicked his tongue before lighting a cigarette. “But seriously, what happened? I could hear you shouting from outside.”

“That bitch stepped on my shoes,” Patrick looked down at them, biting his lower lip, frowning with displeasure. “And this is the first time I’ve worn them!”

Bryce rolled his eyes, theatrically wiping away a tear. “What a tragedy, Bateman. Are you gonna fire her for that?”

Humming to himself, Patrick glanced at the place you were standing some moments ago, his mind was busy thinking about a plan… Cause, if he just fired you, that would be too easy…

“Bateman, are you here?” Timothy snapped his fingers in front of Patrick’s face.

“I have… I have a better idea. Let's go, gentlemen are waiting for us in the meeting room.” Patrick uttered, his devilish smile glowed on his face, as he moved forward, leaving Bryce completely confused.

Huffing, you nearly broke into your office and leaned against the door with your eyes firmly closed.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Cindy worried, leaving her desk. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I saw worse...” You snorted, fixing your slightly messy hair. 

Now, your colleague was looking as scared as you, nervously twirling a pen with her fingers. “Maybe you want some coffee?” she watched you walking back and forth around the office. “Something bad happened with docs? You didn’t make it?”

Her quiet but demanding voice brought you back to the Earth as you breathed deeply, pulling yourself together. “No, everything went fine.”

You confused Cindy, so she got closer to your table, picking up the spoiled business card you just laid on. “Is this why you look so sad?”

“I bumped into one of the Vice Presidents and it seemed like I stained his super expensive shoes!” You said quickly, and you even had to catch the air after your words, feeling your head pulsating from massive stress.

“Wow! Do you know his name?” She sounded strangely excited.

“Whose name?” You sat at your desk, leaning on your elbows as you were massaging your temples.

“Vice President you bumped into, of course! Who was that?”

“His last name is Bateman if I’m not mistaken…” You almost fell from your armchair from how she screamed at your words.

“No way!” Cindy pressed both hands to her forehead like she was about to lose consciousness. “Oh my God! He’s…He’s so hot!”

Your half-opened mouth literally froze in shock as you couldn't believe what you just heard.

“Damn, (Y/N)! I wish I were in your place!” She murmured as if she was dreaming about it right now.

“Are you kidding me?” you crossed your arms, scowling just from one thought about him. “He’s an arrogant bastard! Who knows nothing about good manners!” you nearly spitted out your words, hitting your little fist against the wooden surface of your table. “And now, my destiny is in his hands–will he fire me or not? How pathetic…”

“What are you talking about!” she rolled her eyes, wailing as if she was your teacher: “Mr. Bateman is a very kind man! I heard a lot about him, he’s the boy next door! How can he fire you? Besides, he has a weak spot for cute girls…”

“Jesus…How in the hell did you know about all of these stupid yarns?” you grabbed your head in order to close your ears. “Wait! Don’t tell me! I don’t want to hear anything about this ‘boy next door’, you understand?”

Cindy let out a small giggle, looking at you suspiciously before asking some more questions, which pissed you off completely: “You like him, don’t you? I bet he’s so handsome…How does it feel to stand beside him? Ohhhh… Which girls do you think he likes the most?”

Sighing helplessly, you gave her a killing gaze, cutting her off with a stern statement: “Why don’t you go there and ask him yourself about all this bullshit you want to know about him?!”

Thank God, your phone rang–never in your life have you felt happier getting a phone call than now.

Confidently, you picked up the phone. “I'm listening...”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” your boss's slightly grumpy voice echoed in your ear. “My colleagues told me you had a conflict with Mr. Bateman in the hall today. I just wanna know if you resolved that situation. Everyone in our company must appreciate their superiors!...”

You made a loud gasp, not really paying attention to your boss's instructions anymore as your mind was occupied by the only one thought, which would bother you for a long time–how had this bastard managed to bring you so many problems so quickly all of which you had never had during all the time you’ve worked here?

[adoracora-elizabeth]

Music made me love you, chapter 40

The last curl was put up by O'Brien. "Your hair is ready, Milady."

This whole morning Cora was called Milady, and she had a tough time adjusting to it. This woman had hoovered around her, helping her with literally everything. It had come in handy with her dress and she had done wonders to her hair. O'Brien had created a masterpiece.

"Thank you, O'Brien, can you leave her Ladyship and me alone now," Rosamund said, sending Sarah away.

"Can you just send them away like that? It does seem unkind. And I am not married yet, so how come you call me her Ladyship?"

Rosamund stood behind Cora and put her veil in her hair. "For the staff, you are already 'her Ladyship' and yes, once you think they can go, you send them away."

"It does feel very unkind."

"You will get used to it." Rosamund stepped back to look at Cora. "You look like a princess. Robert will be stunned when he sees you."

Cora was relieved that Robert and she would not live at Downton right away. They had found a nice house close to the Chiswick Bridge. It was an old house, built in the 14th century, with a later added Queen Anne facade. The detached house was big, over 7000 sq. ft with seven bedrooms, three reception rooms and two bathrooms. Cora had thought it to be too big for them, but Robert had insisted. And Cora had loved the charm of the rooms.

"Are you going to hire staff once you move to 'West Hall Manor'?" Rosamund helped Cora up and fixed her train.

"Robert does want staff, but I can cook myself. I even like cooking. But I have agreed with a gardener and some girls to keep the house tidy and in order. So, there is more time for me to write and eventually care for little ones."

"Is there one coming already?" Rosamund asked surprised. "Is Peter getting a niece or nephew?"

"No." Cora responded. "Not yet. For now, we enjoy the cuddles we can get from Peter. He is growing up so fast. I saw that he lost his baby roles."

Rosamund got an extremely sweet look in her eyes. "He is growing up so fast and he is so smart already." She looked at Cora. "Now let us go down."

Cora had been installed in the room she would get after her marriage with Robert. Next to it was a small dressing room for Robert. This setup was still from the old times when husband and wife did not sleep in the same bedroom. The room was very spacious, and the bed looked extremely comfortable, tonight she would know how comfortable. Robert had suggested staying the night at Downton before going on their honeymoon.

+++

Music started playing when Cora walked down the stairs. All heads were turned, and she heard a collective aww. Robert was not in her sight yet. Once downstairs, Rosamund adjusted her train again, kissed her on her cheek and wished her good luck. Harold was waiting for her to take his arm.

"Are you ready for this next step?" He asked quietly.

Cora chuckled. "It is a bit late to have regrets."

Harold put his other hand on top of Cora’s. "Are you having doubts?"

This made Cora look up at him and with the biggest smile she answered. "Far from it."

"Good." They had reached the end of the great hall, where Robert was waiting for her. On the chairs, she saw her mother with Sorcha next to her. On the other side of the aisle was Violet with Patrick. Next to them were Rosamund and Marmaduke. She saw some familiar faces from the staff, Mrs. Hughes and Carson were accompanied by other people she had not met before.

+++

Robert felt his nerves getting worse when the guests all turned towards the grand staircase, he heard them gasp audible. He could not see Cora yet and that made him nervous. He was trying to imagine what kind of dress she was wearing. Would she have a big ballroom gown, or was it a very slim-fitting dress? He had not the faintest idea what she had chosen. He had tried to get it out of Rosamund, but he had not had much luck. She only told him the colour. An off-white dress it would be. She gave him a piece of the fabric so he could find a dress shirt in the same colour or a tie.

Finally, she came around the corner, holding her brother's arm. He almost grabbed John's arm, who was standing next to him. She was breathtakingly beautiful; her dress was nothing he could have imagined. It was fitted around her body perfectly, not too slim fitting but also not a ballroom gown. She was gliding towards him it felt. All the faces around her disappeared and he only saw her. Harold kissed her cheek before handing her to him.

Robert felt her gloved hand glide in his and he was relieved she was wearing gloves so she would not feel his sweaty palm. She softly squeezed his hand, while listening to the officiant.

+++

"You can now kiss the bride."

Robert turned towards Cora and carefully lifted her veil. Her lips were coloured with a soft pink. Her hyacinth-blue eyes were shining, she had a soft pink shade of eyeshadow on her eyelids. It was as if time stood still, and he saw every small detail on her face. Her mouth slightly twitched into a smile. Her nose that she crunched and her eyes, oh her eyes were full of love and anticipation. His hand softly on her jaw and cheeks, he pulled her close. He touched her lips briefly. "My wife." He murmured before kissing her more intense.

Suddenly the room around him came back to life and he was startled by the sound of applause. He broke his kiss and looked Cora in the eye. "Hello Mrs. Crawley." He smiled at her.

"Hello, my husband." She smiled back.

Robert felt Cora’s hand on his stomach and a second later she was kissing him again.

+++

Peter was trying to grab Cora’s earring, but she managed to keep it out of his reach. "You are growing so fast." She said in a soft affectionate tone.

"Guests are waiting to congratulate you, can you please join Robert." Violet stood in front of Cora with eyes cold as ice.

"Mama, it is their wedding day. Can you please calm down and be nice today." Rosamund said annoyed while taking Peter back in her arms.

Cora gave her a thankful look. "I am coming Lady Grantham."

Violet huffed and walked away.

"She is lady Grantham, is she not?" Cora was surprised by her response. She tried to address her in the right way, she did not want to mess up, especially not on her special day. But since this morning Violet had been on her nerves.

"She is indeed." Rosamund winked. "Mama is just not used to not getting things done in her way. Especially not with Robert who always followed her wishes, but since he met you, he is finally standing up for himself."

Cora sighed, she had been worried about Violet, and this did not make things better. She walked towards Robert who gave her such an adorable look that she almost forgot about Violet’s treatment of her.

"My dear, let me introduce you to Lord Flintshire, his father is the Marquess of Flintshire."

A good-looking man from around the same age as Robert was.

"Hugh has been a dear friend since we were children." Robert continued. Next to Hugh was a woman, she did not look happy Cora thought.

"Nice to meet you, Lord Flintshire." Cora said formal.

"You can call me Hugh. I am only a Lord for other people, not for friends. This is Susan, my fiancée." Hugh put his arm at Susan's back, who reluctantly shook Cora’s hand. "Robert, I know this is your wedding day, but can we talk for a minute or two?"

Robert looked at Cora for her approval. She kissed his cheek. "I will be fine; in the meantime, I can get to know Susan." Cora hoped that making friends in Robert’s circle would please Violet.

"Is that Lady Lancashire." Susan said, when Cora turned towards her to ask a question. A bit stunned, Cora was left alone. She looked around the great hall. All the chairs had been moved to the side and there was a small dance floor. She had loved twirling around in Robert's arm during their opening dance. He had chosen a slow waltz. A soft hand was placed on her arm, she saw Rosamund standing next to her.

"Time to say goodbye to your favourite nephew." She said, while handing Peter to Cora. "Do not feel bad about Susan. Hugh is a very nice man, but he asked a peculiar woman to marry him."

+++

"Why did you send O'Brien upstairs? I thought you only hired her for the day to help Cora get dressed and styled?" Patrick asked Violet while she wheeled him into his bedroom.

"Cora can use some help getting all those pins out of her hair and that dress is also not easy."

"You make it sound as if it is a nice thing you did. But you realise that it is their wedding night? Robert would love to help her I think."

"Patrick!" Violet said shocked.

"Dear, as if we do not know they enjoy each other company already and how do you think you will get grandchildren."

Violet hummed but did not say a word. She started to untie his shoes.

"Maybe I should ask Carson to help me? Or one of our boys, there are some potential future valets under them."

"You do not want me to help you?" Violet stopped and looked up.

"I want you to leave your son at peace with his new wife. That is all I am asking of you."

"He married the wrong girl; how can you be so calm and just let it all happen. I do not understand you." She pulled the first shoe off.

"Dear, we talked about this. You promised me to be more forgiving and you also promised me that you would not make her uncomfortable or feel unwelcome."

Violet threw both his shoes in a corner. "I just cannot believe Robert did not like Isabella and chose Cora instead. Can you imagine, marrying an American girl, when you can have a nice English Lady."

"Your son made a choice with his heart. And I am positive that Cora is a lady, and she will be an amazing Lady Grantham in the future."

"That we will see."

+++

Robert scooped Cora in his arms, when they reached the first landing on the stairs, this erupted a high-pitched shriek from Cora.

"You scared me." she giggled.

"Let us hurry upstairs, nobody has seen us escape."

Cora sighed, while wrapping her arms around his neck. "It feels like we are escaping indeed."

"Were you able to enjoy this day?" Robert lowered Cora back on her feet when they reached her new bedroom. Mrs. Hughes promised to make the room cosy and romantic for tonight. Cora's arms were still wrapped around his neck.

"I am now allowed to call me your wife, your Mrs. Crawley and that fills me with joy." She kissed him passionately, while reaching for the doorknob behind her. "Can we please get me out of this dress."

Robert growled and pushed Cora into the room once she opened the door.

"Oh my God!"

Robert let go off Cora so abruptly that she almost fell on the ground. He could grab her arm to keep her upright. They both looked in horror at O'Brien who was standing in the room.

"Why are you here?" Robert managed to ask.

"Lady Grantham had send me up earlier tonight, she said that Mrs. Crawley had asked for help taking off her dress and unpinning her hair."

To Robert's annoyance this woman did not even blush and she had a smug smile on her face. "Obviously she does not need help, especially not on her wedding day. Now please leave." he tried to keep his voice calm, but he was steaming. Why did his mother do this, why did she try to ruin things for him. What was it that made her feel she needed to do this.

Cora stepped close to Robert, when O'Brien closed the door, she brushed with her hands over his chest. "Do not let this upset you darling. It does not matter."

"But Cora." he now sounded sad. "It does matter. This shows that my mother does not have respect for you or even for me."

She now started to take of his jacket. She let it fall to the ground, she than pulled his tie lose and with that pulled him closer to her. She raised her chin, her lips hovering in front of his lips. "I only want to think about what you are going to do with me tonight." She kissed him on his lips. She left a trail of kisses when she moved to his neck.

"Oh Cora."

"Now please help me out of this dress." She turned around, in the meantime her hands were reaching for the pins holding up her hair.

"Please Milady. Let me help you to take of your lovely dress, brush your hair and then show you how heaven can be like."