#I bet they make beautiful music together

[evie-sturns]

21 - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you recieve a unusual call from chris, you realise he’s got blackout drunk on his 21st birthday. you’re forced to go pick him up and take care of him in his interesting state..

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!chris, mentions of throwing up (no detail whatsoever), a lot of chaos

————————————🔸————————————

11:36pm

i yawn as i shuffle around in bed, my warm covers wrapped around me as i scroll through instagram,

suddenly my phone starts to ring,

‘incoming call from ‘chrizzzzyy’

i pick up the phone, pressing it to my ear as chris instantly starts,

“you know you’re so beautiful, like soo gorgeous.” he mumbles into the phone, his words slurred.

there’s faint chatter in the background, along with heavy music.

“chris? you okay?” i ask, my eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

“i need you- like how a baby bird needs its mama” he groans, followed by a loud laugh.

i giggle, “chris what is wrong with you!”

the realisation hits.

chris turned 21 today, i couldn’t make it to his party due to work, but for fucks sake, this kid is drunk.

“oh my god- chris you got drunk? i thought you said you wouldn’t!” i say frantically,

“uh factually i am not drunk- i think you’ll find.” he fumbles over his words,

“can you come.” he follows up.

i scoff, “christopher- it is midnight, where are you?”

he pauses for a moment, before i hear him chatter to someone else,

“yo- where am i, my girl wants to know” he mumbles to a friend i assume,

he shortly gets back to me “i’m at home, but i want to be at your home.”

i nod with a small huff, “god, i’ll come get you now, just wait on the curb and don’t go on the road whatever you do.”

he almost giggles, “you sound like my mommy.”

i groan before hanging up,

i heave myself out of bed, knowing i’m about to have to collect my best friend in his state.

i grab my keys and fix my hair before walking downstairs, creaking open the door.

the cold night hair hits me hard, i shiver as i jog up to my car, swinging open the car door.

i instantly speed off down the street.

-

10 minutes later i arrive at his street, the pebbles crunch under my tires as i slowly drive to his house.

chris shoots up from his sat position on the side walk, giving me a huge grin.

i pull up beside him, reaching over and opening the door.

“hey baby.” he grins, flopping down in the passenger seat,

“chris.” i warn, reaching over and buckling him in.

“how much have you had to drink?” i ask, looking over at him.

he hesitates before shrugging, “shit- ‘prolly like 20 or something.”

i pause, “20 of what.”

he shrugs again, “couldn’t tell ya sweet cheeks.”

i throw my head back, with a small laugh.

“come- come sit on my lap” he grins, his eyes half shut, patting his lap.

“chris! i am not your girlfriend.” i remind him, his face drops

“you’re- you’re breaking up with me!?” he raises his voice

“we were never dating” i point out, his eyes water.

“are you seriously gonna cry?” i laugh,

he nods with a small pout, “my girl, my one and only is dumping me-“

i lean over the centre console and give him a hug,

i hold back laughs as i pull out my phone, putting it on 0.5x and holding it up.

“tell me what’s wrong chris.” i grin,

“you- you’re breaking up with me!” his words are slurred as he throws a mini tantrum.

“you’re my babe, my hot little babe.” he sighs,

“oh my god chris”. i laugh, putting my phone down and starting the car,

i roll down the windows for him as i attempt to explain that fact that i am NOT his girlfriend, and never had been.

he sits up on his knees and attempts to make a break for it out the window, he sticks his arms and head out the window.

i reach over and grab his shirt, pulling him back in before rolling up the window

“chris! no!”

he mumbles something vaguely before looking over at me,

“we hooking up tonight right?” he blurts out so causally.

“shit i bet you could give me the best-“ he starts but i clamp a hand over his mouth.

“chris.. anything you say tonight you will regret.” i warn him with a smile.

“but- but you’re so pretty!” he protests,

i pull into my driveway, hopping out the car before walking over to chris’s side.

i open the door and he jumps out, stumbling over onto the grass.

“oh no chris.” i sigh, grabbing his underarms and picking him up.

he wraps his legs around my lower back and burys his head into my shoulder.

i carry him up the driveway with small huffs,

i fiddle with my keys before unlocking the door, chris is practically a koala bear, clinging to me as i heave us upstairs.

i finally enter my room before dropping him on the bed.

i switch on the light and take a good look at him,

“like what you seee.” he grins with a stupid lip bite,

he looks white as a sheet, my eyes widen as i grab his hand.

i run him into the bathroom.

“i’m gonna throw up.” he mumbles,

“oh god oh god.” i whine, helping him into the shower.

i stand outside the shower as i frantically try to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him.

i unbuckle his belt and tug it off, discarding it out the bathroom floor.

i unbutton his shorts for him, guiding them down his legs, leaving him in his boxers.

“look- you get your boxers off and just try not to throw up for another minute.”

he giggles as he tugs his boxers down, i slide the shower curtain across and take a deep breath as i sit on the toilet lid.

he reaches a hand out of the shower curtain, holding his boxers.

“just drop them i’m not touching that.” i groan,

he drops them in the pile of clothes before i hear a small-

“oh shit.”

i reach into the shower and turn it on cold, trying to drown out the sounds of chris..

i hear some deep breaths from behind the curtain,

“y/n!!!! i threw up!!!” he calls out,

“that’s okay! just get clean in the shower for me!” i tell him,

he sounds panicked, “hey, the alcohol is better out then in sweetie.” i tell him,

he laughs in response, “you’re righhhtt!”

i scoff, waiting for him to finish up,

my eyes widen as chris goes silent, “chris! you better not be peeing in my shower i swear to god-“ i start but he cuts me off with a loud giggle.

i throw my head into my hands,

“oopsie daisy’s.” he doesn’t stop laughing.

-

after 45 minutes of chris yapping my ear off, i finally got him changed and in my bed.

“and then guess what he said, he said that he was gonna fight me if i didn’t give him my drink, like just admit you’re a alcoholic!” he rambles on about his night.

“lay down for me.” i tell him as he sits on my matress.

he flops down on my mattress, his head hitting the pillow.

i lean over the bed and tug up the covers over him.

i move his hair off his forehead with my hand then place a kiss to his forehead.

he yawns loudly before whining,

“where are you going!”

i scoff, “i’m gonna sleep on the couch chris.”

he huffs, “but we sleep together all the time!”

i roll my eyes, “that’s when there’s no risk of you throwing up on me”

he kicks his legs, “i promise i won’t!”

i hesitate before giving in, jumping into bed beside him.

he smiles stupidly before wrapping his arms around me, tugging me into his side.

i usually wouldn’t let him cuddling me slide, but i guess he’s not gonna remember it tomorrow.

-

10:23am

i stir awake, chris’s arms still wrapped right around my waist.

he groans, waking up aswell.

“why am i cuddling you” he laughs tiredly,

“do you remember anything that happened last night?” i ask, sitting up in bed.

“not really.” he smiles, rubbing his eyes.

i reach over him and grab my phone, opening up the camera roll.

“you had a long love confession to me.” i giggle, his face drops.

“what?” he asks panicked, i give him my phone

he presses play, letting the video play outloud.

“you’re breaking up with me!? you’re my babe, my hot little babe”

-

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsforlife v @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[chiscaralight]

nsfw, aventurine x afab!reader, porn w plot, aventurine is ass obsessed! fingering, backshots. a lot of it. it’s all back shots.

this was heavily inspired by @hitomisuzuya !! i would’ve used a different game but i literally only know how to play blackjack because of roblox 21 😭 i also haven’t finished the tbz quests so im going off what i know and pure bullshit

how you ended up as a secretary to one of the ten stonehearts beats you. you try not to think about it too much, but the things aventurine ropes you in around different planets always confuse you! you’re just supposed to make sure he checks some stuff off a list, why are you out and about in the world like this? it doesn’t help that whenever you try to stop him, he just sweet-talks his way out of it!

you can’t even recall the name of this place, but aventurine thinks you’ve been working too hard ! so, to ‘build morale’, he asks you to escort him to the casino near the lobby. you’re about to protest but he oh so rudely waves you off ! he insists you come with him anyways.

“all you have to do is sit pretty, relax and keep your eyes on me.”

the way the words slip from his lips send a shiver straight down into your core. but you can’t think like that! this is your boss! so you clear your throat and tell him you’ll be ready in a 20 minutes, much to his satisfaction. you’re stepping into the bathroom, face flushed as you think that his words had a little more meaning than just looking at him.

now you know Aventurine is an amazing gambler, but it never ceases to amaze you watching him. he’s in his element, never hesitating to bet or accept the next game. you sir quaintly beside him, sipping on your drink as you lose yourself to the noise in the music. it’s the grating voice of an unknown man saying something to that brings you back to your universe.

your boss takes notice of this though and stretches his arm out in front of you.

“the doll is off limits.” the nickname catches you off guard but what really sets you off is the tone of his voice. what once was warm and playful is now an icy cold.

“oh,come on. how about a round of blackjack? best of three? winner gets the lady.”

a few people gather to watch the interaction as you csn feel the tension pick up. the two men never break eye contact as they size each other up. who does this man think he is? he’s about to tell him off, but aventurine feels your nimble fingers on his arm. he breaks the gaze to meet yours. his eyes are so beautiful, and you give him a small nod to let him know to go ahead. you trust him. so he turns back to the man and with a sly smile, he’s pulling off his gold-rimmed glasses to focus on the table.

“okay,let’s play.”

the first round is quick and easy. aventurine wins, 20 to 18. second one, the unknown man hits a break. it doesn’t take long for him to close it in, ending with a perfect hand. the man groans and asks for a rematch. aventurine is quick to decline though, saying your time was well spent. he turns to you and offers his hand so the two of you can leave, and you take it without a second thought.

the way back up was void of aventurines usual teasing. his eyebrows are furrowed and the look on his face is still strong, so you decide to keep your questions to yourself until you reach the room.

when you do confront him about it, he tells you that even the best gamblers know not to play with their most important prizes. the gravity of the statement doesn’t hit you until he has you pressed up against the door as he closes the gap between the two of you. his lips find yours as you instinctively move your hands up towards his neck.

he kisses just like he talks, smooth and fluid. your mouths meld perfectly together as he draws you closer to the warmth of his body. his hands reach down to grip the curve of your ass, and the squeal you make gives him access to dip his tongue further into your mouth. you’re moaning around his tongue and he’s groaning back in response while you move your hand up to grab a fistful of his hair.

aventurines outfit is expensive. you hate when it gets dirty for any reason as much as he does, but neither of you cares too much in the moment. you’re fully naked seated in his lap, while his fingers skillfully pump in and out of you. his other hand softly grinds you against him. you can feel his bulge pressing against you from behind while your slick is soaking up his gloves and he’s hissing at the mere thought of being inside you right now.

lips find the crook of your neck once more. your neck is littered with red and purple marks of possession as he speeds up his pace. you can feel it coming, and you move your hand to grip his wrist as a warning. your moans and cries become more erratic as you grip his hair once again and he groans into your skin right as you feel your orgasm crashing down. you’re shaking so much and he wraps his arms around you to hold you in place while he coos in your ear.

it’s all so wrong. watching your boss undress like this has to violate a lot of work ethics but you just can’t seem to look away. the piercing gaze he has over you sends heat between your legs. he’s moving to place his back against the headboard as he gestures for you to come closer. he’s twirling his finger, and you take the hint to throw your leg over his. you gasp at how hard he feels against you.

the way he’s stretching your tight hole almost has you doubling over. the noise he lets out is almost sinful as he’s gripping the fat of your hips to drag you down to the base of his cock. he doesn’t fail to let out a string of curses as you slowly start to bounce up and down on him. the way your ass is slapping against his skin is so fucking mesmerizing and he just can’t drag himself to look away. you’re lost in the pleasure, playing with your tits as you try to distract yourself from the burning feeling in your thighs. your pace is starting to falter, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by aventurine. he flattens his large hand against your back and pushes you flat down on the bed. he’s adjusting himself behind you and sliding right back into you without a warning.

you can’t even think straight like this! he’s fucking into you, no, pounding into you so hard you’re worried he’ll break the frame of the bed! you can’t even raise your head! your face is planted in the pristine sheets as your eyes roll back from the sheer pleasure. same can be said for the man above you though, because he doesn’t shift once! his palm connects with your ass once again and you twitch up at the sensation. he just loves the way your ass is jiggling and he can’t get enough! the words of praise he’s whispering so softly at you while he’s so violently rutting into you are making your pretty head spin so hard that you can’t even warn him that you’re about to cum! it’s the way your night writhes and the white ring around the base of his cock that starts to give it away.

by the time you’re awake again, you’re already cleaned up and under the blankets. you flush as the memories of the previous night flood back into your mind. you put your hands in your face as the man behind you starts to laugh. he drapes his arm over you and drags you close, peppering soft kisses all over your already red face as you meekly try to push him away. you don’t want him to stop though, you just love being the object of his affection!

a/n: first hsr one🫣i just love aven so much lmfao

thanks for reading !🩵

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes

Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right?

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only)

ynyln has added to their story

[caption: local guide gets lost / best guide ever / fun fact: Oscar sings when he's taking pictures of someone]

"This is so beautiful," y/n said once she'd made her way back to Oscar. She couldn't stop looking out at the view. "If I lived here I'd want to come up here every day."

Oscar chuckled, nodding as he handed her phone back to her. "I moved here recently and the other day was my first time coming up here. I think it's gonna become a regular thing, though."

"I bet it's gorgeous at sunset."

He nodded, sipping his water. "Have you seen the sunset over the water yet?"

"Not yet. Is it nice?" Spreading her jacket on the rock, she sat down, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as possible.

Oscar hummed, sitting near her. "It's quite lovely."

"I'll make sure to see it before I go." She wondered if he would want to see it with her. If she was stupid for thinking there was some sort of connection between them.

"Maybe we can see it together." He looked surprised that the words had come from him, and she was further charmed by the faint blush staining his cheeks.

"It's a date," she said softly.

He sighed, and she felt the weight of it roll away from him. Propping his arms on his knees, he cleared his throat. "I'd like that."

"You like being away from it all, don't you?" she asked suddenly, unintentionally mirroring his posture. Resting her cheek on her arm, she watched his face as he considered the question.

"I like peace and quiet occasionally. To remind me of who I am." He shrugged.

"Me, too." She looked out at the sea.

"Do you get to get away from it all? Ever?"

"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "I love my life, Oscar, I do. I love that I'm blessed and privileged enough to be able to do something I love and see the world while doing it. And I get a high that can't be matched when I'm able to stop singing and hear words I wrote sung back to me by thousands of people. But I sometimes feel like I always have to be 'on' you know? Like—"

"Like you can't be yourself, or worse, losing who you truly are," he finished.

"Exactly," she whispered. "And for two years I was under even more scrutiny."

"Were you miserable the whole time?"

"Not at first. I think it was a year ago that I realized we were just pretending. In my heart and head I broke up with him then, and that's where a lot of my angsty songs came from for this tour." She sighed. "But you don't want to hear—"

"I do," he promised gently. "Rolling in the Deep?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Wrote it after we had a fight where he threatened to leak my nudes."

"Christ," Oscar groaned. "Anti-Hero?"

"All things he said were wrong with me."

He shook his head, looking out to the sea. "What a fucking cunt."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did," she admitted.

"It made for some great music, but I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," he said. "No one deserves that."

"Thank you." She watched him watch the city beneath them. "Why do you have to be reminded of who you are?"

"Same as you I reckon. I'm able to do something I love and see the world and I'm so grateful for that, but… Sometimes I feel like it's a dream and it's all gonna be snatched away." He looked at her. "Youngest driver on the grid and all, you know? And I started later than everyone else, so sometimes I worry that I don't have enough experience."

"Like you're faking it," she guessed.

"Exactly. And I'm under scrutiny because of my age, because I did so much before getting here, and…" He sighed, shrugging slightly. "What if I don't meet expectations?"

"So you still think you have to prove yourself?"

"I don't think, I know I do. I haven't had a win yet. The sprint, but that doesn't count. I'm only ever right behind."

"You'll get there."

"You think?" he asked.

"No, I know you will."

They sat in silence for several moments, and she was aware of the time quickly slipping away. Far below she could see Monaco coming to life for the day and clung to the peace on this little mountaintop.

"Who did you write Enchanted for?" he asked.

Her heart thrummed violently in her chest and she followed a boat with her eyes as it pulled into the harbor. "Someone special."

"Ah."

"Has there ever been anyone you admired? That you didn't know but you knew of and you built them up in your mind?"

"…Yeah."

She could feel his eyes on her but she kept her gaze on the harbor. "He's that for me. And I was worried that it would be like it sometimes is, where I'd meet him and it would be a letdown. But… It wasn't. I was… Enchanted. And I'm only more so every time I see him."

"Does he know?"

"I hope he does," she whispered.

"He sounds like a lucky guy."

"I don't think he thinks he's lucky. Pretty sure he thinks he's worried he won't meet expectations," she murmured.

He was silent for eleven seconds. Y/n knew because she counted them, each one feeling like an hour. And then… "What about Charles?"

"He's enchanting too, but in a different way."

"Y/n?"

She swallowed hard and slowly turned her head to look at him.

"I built you up in my mind, too."

"Was it a letdown?" she asked, too scared of his answer to exhale.

"I wouldn't be here if it was," he said in a rush.

She awoke as soon as his alarm started. Behind her he sighed, pressing his face tighter against her neck. When she reached for his phone he groaned, catching her hand and holding it to her chest. "Charles… Time to get up."

"No," he sighed.

"It's quali day," she enticed, slipping her hand free and stretching to silence the alarm. He didn't budge and she laughed softly.

"I like it right here."

She was still a little surprised that he hadn't even attempted to have sex the night before. After their talk he'd kissed her sweetly then given her one of his shirts to change into. Then, he'd held her. He was still holding her, as he had all night.

"Ten more minutes?" he whispered.

Y/n nodded, because she did love the comfort of being in his arms. She contemplated setting a timer just in case they went back to sleep, but felt his lips against her skin and understood he didn't want ten minutes more of sleep. His hand slid down and he huffed softly when he felt Leo curled up in front of him.

"Five seconds," he murmured against her shoulder, and she could only giggle softly as he sat up, smoothly pulling Leo from her and sliding out of bed.

She rolled onto her back to stretch, squealing when he was almost immediately returning, lying over her and catching her in a gentle kiss. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched then reached to help him shove the covers away. "Charles," she gasped, legs falling open for him.

He nuzzled her neck with a soft groan, pulling back and leaning away to yank open the nightstand drawer. He was back in seconds, drawing her into a series of kisses that had her growing warm. His fingers trailed down her sides then back up, sliding his shirt up, pulling away long enough to slip it over her head. "Si belle, mon amour."

His hands were everywhere, making it impossible for her to focus on them as they stirred and spread heat, lips meeting hers again when a hand slipped between them. She tried to mirror his touches, felt his cock pressing against her thigh while his fingers traced her slit.

Deepening the kiss, he shifted, slipping the condom into her hand then bracing his hand beside them. His fingers teased briefly and he chuckled breathlessly, lips moving to her ear as he rubbed along her slit, working up to her clit. "So sensible," he whispered after she cried out softly.

"Sensible… Sensitive?" she whispered, her meager French falling apart as his fingers worked her clit so expertly.

"Oui… Une si bonne fille." He nipped at her earlobe and she felt him smile while her hips lifted, pushing tighter against his fingers. Her body flooded with heat and he moved his fingers harder, moaning the words over and over as the wet sounds grew louder.

"Don't stop," she panicked when she felt him leaning back. He gently shushed her, fingers hard and fast on her clit, licking his lips as he looked down. "Fuck, Charles—"

"Yes, ma bonne fille," he encouraged. "Cum for me, hm? Let me hear you."

She was almost ashamed of how quickly she came once he said the words, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed for him. His fingers eased while she trembled, then slid away, his hand gently gripping her hip. One breathless kiss later his hand slid over hers and she hummed, reaching to help him put on the condom.

There was a brief fumbling as he settled between her legs, his hands running up and down her legs. He breathed in to speak, but she only heard Leo's soft whine from outside the bedroom door. Charles exhaled harshly, head dropping to her shoulder when she giggled. "Fuck, Leo."

"Sorry," she kept giggling, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Will your Oscar be jealous too?" he murmured, and her laughter stopped at once.

"He's not my—" She gasped, head falling back, as he entered her.

"I don't mind sharing." He spoke directly against her ear, hands gentle on her thighs, fucking her slow.

"Really?" She was surprised but wasn't, and she wished he'd told her this when he wasn't buried inside her, because that made it a little hard to think properly.

"Yes, mon couer," he moaned, lips pressed to her ear. His hands gripped her thighs tightly as she arched and whined, his lips dragging down her neck when she threw her head back.

"Charles," she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He lifted his head, chuckling softly as he leaned to meet her lips with his.

"Again, amour." One hand shot up, gently cupping her throat as he thrust harder.

"Oh my god," she squealed, digging her nails in his back.

"Is good?' he whispered and when she gasped out a yes he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries. The world seemed to stand still while his lips and tongue worked hers with perfection, thick moans rising up his throat. Her hands moved up and she mirrored the tenderness he was showing her, lightly running her fingers up the back of his head, other hand gently cradling his cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a sharp cry as she came. And could only gasp into his mouth, hands trembling, as he came a few moments later.

Finally she recognized the ringing in her ears as her phone going off with texts. Groaning, she tried to focus Charles and his sweet kisses, pouting a little when he pulled out.

"You are too popular to have your ringer on," he teased, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and setting it next to her. "Tell her we're getting ready."

She nodded, stretching and humming before picking up her phone. Like him, she assumed the texts were from her assistant. Unlocking the phone, she sighed as Charles stayed over her after throwing away his condom. He must have felt her tense when she read the texts, because he made a questioning hum, sitting upright.

"Not y/bff/n?" he asked.

She sighed, turning the phone so he could read the texts. He scoffed, muttering rapidly under his breath in French and Italian and though she wasn't sure what the Italian was she knew the French and agreed with him calling her ex a crybaby bitch.

"Send him a photo."

About to block the asshole, she stopped, staring up at him. "What?"

"Send him a photo, mon couer."

Without thinking, she snapped a picture of Charles, enjoying his warm laugh while she cropped it and sent it to Justin. She showed it to him and he only laughed harder.

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynyln: I'm at the age I can date you or your dad 💋 📷: charles_leclerc

↳landonorris: is this some secret lyric I don't know?            ↳ ynyln: not everything is a lyric, lando            ↳landonorris: it usually is with you            ↳ ynyln: I'm not that bad ↳landonorris: great photo by the way ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie ↳oscarpiastri: amazing shot. Glad you got to see the sunset. Did dad scare you on the yacht?            ↳ynyln: no he was very careful. You were right, it was quite lovely. You'll have to come with us next time            ↳charles_leclerc: you're always welcome            ↳oscarpiastri: it's a date            ↳user3: wtf is going on am I the only one who's confused ↳charles_leclerc: can you?            ↳ynyln: depends on the dad            ↳landonorris: now I'm confused            ↳ynyln: go back to your own comment thread

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, scuderiaferrari, and others ynyln: Winning one's home race is special. It's more symbolic and emotional than all the other podiums throughout the season. Over the years I have watched grown men cry over the "hometown boy" – and shed more than a few tears myself. But this time, it was extraordinary. Congratulations, Charles. The so-called curse is broken. It was a privilege to meet you, but an honor to get to know the man behind the visor. C'est incroyable, mon amie. ❤️🤍 ↳charles_leclerc: Merci, mon beau porte-bonheur. Tu es incroyable. (liked by author)          ↳ ynyln: I'm not a lucky charm          ↳ charles_leclerc: for me you are ↳ user3: our girl's fallen again 🥺 ↳ oscarpiastri: so incredibly proud of dad           ↳ ynyln: he's proud of you too           ↳ user6: wait what if her post about "you and your dad" was about oscar and charles?            ↳ user7: ok grandma let's get you back in bed

ynyln

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, charles_leclerc, and others ynyln: My favorite driver has become one of my favorite people. Your drive and passion are inspiring. You are amazing and I hope you know how proud Team Piastri is of you today. My tears were just as much for you as that other guy. Thank you for letting me tag along and annoy you with my singing and bad jokes. Pain au chocolates on me tomorrow. (Maybe no hike though?) 🧡🧡

↳ oscarpiastri: You're one of my favorite people, too. And I'll always say yes to pain au chocolate with you. 🧡      ↳ynyln: Ergo I'm blushing ↳landonorris: Team Piastri?? 😒      ↳ynyln: Don't be jealous ↳mclaren: Your paddock passes for Canada are being delivered tomorrow     ↳ ynyln: 🙏🏻 ↳charles_leclerc: that other guy is proud of him too     ↳ ynyln: ur boy did good 🥹

ynyln

liked by georgerussel63, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: Some favorite photos from Monaco week. Amazing doesn't cover it. Thank you, scuderiaferrari, for welcoming me into your fold this week. This week healed me in ways I will never be able to describe. Tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussel63, lewishamilton

↳scuderiaferrari: You are always welcome to our garage, YN. Truly an honor making your wish come true! ↳landonorris: I'm tagged but there's no photo of me?      ↳ynyln: um you're in the pic with Oscar?      ↳landonorris: you mean my hand??      ↳ynyln: Fine, I'll post the pics I got of you sleeping.      ↳landonorris: No!      ↳mclaren: YES ↳oscarpiastri: It was enchanting to meet you      ↳ynyln: I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home      ↳user3: WHAT      ↳oscarpiastri: This was the very first page, not where our storyline ends      ↳ynyln: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again      ↳user4: WHAT IS GOING ON ↳georgerussel63: Blimey slide 3 is a good photo      ↳ynyln: I spent the week playing my favorite game: Formula One driver or European model? ↳lewishamilton: Lunch this week?      ↳ynyln: Only if you bring Roscoe ↳user5: the drivers really said "YN belongs to us now"|↳charles_leclerc: Monaco is lonely without you. Revient bientôt, chérie.      ↳ynyln: compter les jours      ↳user4: oh he's down BAD

oscarpiastri has added to their story

[caption: miss you already] replies: ↳landonorris: um mate? ↳ynyln: i'm literally right beside you ↳mclaren: delete immediately [story no longer available]

charles_leclerc has added to their story

[caption: ❤️❤️❤️] replies: ↳ynyln: stop i'm gonna cry - when did you take this?? ↳scuderiaferrari: you have to delete this      ↳charles_leclerc: No ↳maxverstappen1: why does everyone have sexual pictures of her?      ↳charles_leclerc: because we are lucky

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully | @wobblymug | @apollosfavkiddo | @callsignwidow | @saachiep81 | @midnights-lily | @waterlilypat | @kiwi43-81 | @fastfactory |

[makeyoumine69]

Spit In My Face

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

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

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

— WORDS: 21k (oops)

— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ve arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you here alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you have a date or not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Time literally stopped for me when you left.” 

'What a beautiful flattery.'

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

“Baby, did you fall asleep in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop it, Patrick…”

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

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

 “Can you just leave and let me change?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'No, not good...no!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'And he just stopped, holy hell.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…Only y-you...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I didn’t ask...”

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

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

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

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

'Oops!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Bullshit.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Relax?”

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

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

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

“You’re such an…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Excellent.' 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cupcake..."

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

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

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

"(Y/n), calm down! You're bleeding." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

'No, no, no. Not again'

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

'Stop.'

"Cupcake."

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

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

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

"Daddy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come back!" 

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

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

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

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

'Just leave, please!'

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

"Patrick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even worse than you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'God, what a jerk.' 

"Can't say the same about you."

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

"You really think I care?"

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

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

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

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

"Do you like him?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A second, two seconds.

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

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

Shit, what if she saw what you were doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lost.

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

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

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

"HEY! We were just trying to help!"

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

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

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

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

"Who did this to you?"

'You did.'

But he would never know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because it doesn't matter."

"It does."

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell was going on inside your head?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, it's pretty clean here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh, and the pharmacy you go to is probably one of the best, too?”

He grinned. “Sure, I usually get my meds from the one on Broadway.”

“Good for you.”

You started to saunter away from him, but his hands caught you faster than you could react. The next thing you knew, Bateman was holding you tightly against his tall, broad frame, looking down at you with obvious concern.

“Cupcake,” he murmured in a sweet voice, tracing a finger along your cheek. “I just want to help.”

Damn, this man only had to touch you a little bit and you were already lost in him. 

“Patrick, you don't have to. I—” You didn't have a chance to finish your sentence because your lips were sealed by his. 

Completely defenseless and vulnerable — that was how you felt right now, and it seemed as if he could feel it as the kiss grew deeper and more intense with each passing moment. Cautiously, you rested your hands on his shoulders before sliding them down to the lapels of his suit, fumbling with the soft material and feeling the ground disappearing beneath your feet.

'It's already too much.'

Only when you were both breathless did Patrick decide to break the kiss, but his arms were still wrapped around your waist, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage. 

“You were involved in all this because of me," he paused and leaned down to you again, letting your noses rub against each other. This little physical contact made your heart flutter. “And you really made me worry.”

Bateman said it so quickly, as if he wasn't even thinking properly at that moment. Embarrassed, you shrugged a bit in his arms. No matter how hard you tried to believe this man, all you could think about now was whether you were trapped in his other manipulative, mind games.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast under your fingertips and the next second you pulled your hand away as if you got burned. “Anyway, it’s late already and you probably have some more interesting stuff to do.”

His soft chuckling was annoying but pleasant to hear. “You’re not quite hospitable, aren’t you?”

Eventually, he let you go and stepped aside, unbuttoning his jacket — that scene caused your pulse to race. 

“What are you doing?” “What does it look like?”

You crossed your arms and sighed. “Patrick, I really appreciate your help and… the show was really cool, but I doubt I would ever go back to that place again.” 'Damn it, did I actually say that?'

After Bateman removed his jacket, he carefully put it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tucked his sleeves. 

“You’re welcome,” he beamed with a cocky smile. “I thought you would offer me some tea, coffee or something?”

“I doubt I have anything good to your taste,” slowly, you turned away from him, as an unpleasant feeling of shame struck you right through your chest. “Mmm, I can only offer you mineral water but it’s not Apollinaris.”

“Oh, dear,” he crooned and suddenly hugged you from behind. “I didn’t expect you to have Apollinaris. Honestly.”

Gasping barely audibly, you covered his arms on your waist with your own arms and cocked your head to meet his brown eyes and for God’s sake, why did he always look so tempting, so captivating, so… magnetizing?

With a sharp breath, you managed to avoid another kiss he planned to pull you into, and it coaxed a low growl of disappointment to erupt from his half-opened lips which were so intended to collapse with yours. 

“Patrick,” you gulped when he nuzzled against your neck, leaving small wet marks along your sensitive skin. “Please, stop. Let me just bring you some water and I want to relax a bit, after… after everything that happened.”

It was kinda unexpected that Bateman decided to let you go as easy as that without even trying to overpower you like he always does.

“And what do you do to relax?"

“Hot bath.” You responded without looking at him. Annoyed, you stumbled past him to grab the meds he was inspecting a few minutes ago, and then you opened the fridge to take out the bottle of mineral water. As soon as you started to pour the water into the most beautiful glass you had, you noticed his persistent stare, which made you almost spill the water onto the kitchen counter. “What?”

“These pills are no good for you, (y/n),” his anxious tone was very unnatural, you didn’t even remember him sounding like this ever before. “Stop being stubborn.”

With a small thud, you put the glass on the table next to him and replied a bit aggressively: "I don't think they're worse than coke."

At first, Bateman just gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, but then he took a quick sip of the mineral water, trying as hard as he could to play cool.

“Thanks.” Was all he said and that was actually not the reaction you have expected.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air for some seconds and none of you wanted to continue this conversation, but once you tried to move his hand (that was wrapped around your forearm), his low voice engulfed you like a hot steam.

“Cupcake, I just want to make sure you won’t do anything bad.” “W-what do you mean?” You frowned in confusion and glanced at his hand before you raised your eyes to his perfect face. “Patrick, I suffer from panic attacks… not the things you're thinking of.”

“Then, go take a bath and I’ll leave after that.”

“But I’m not a child,” the more you were trying to resist him, the more your body was yearning for his touch, his large palm on your back was enough to make you forget how to breathe. “You don't owe me anything, this is my problem and I’ll handle this, just like I was doing it before.”

“To be fair, your behavior only shows how immature you are,” he crooned and traced a long, sensible line along your spine. “But, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since you’re overwhelmed.”

At some point, you found yourself tired from trying to convince him to leave you alone, so you just nodded and quickly took your sedative before heading to the bathroom under his attentive gaze. After all, even if you even attempted to make him go away you would fail because compared to him you were so small and weak — Patrick had power over you in all ways, and he knew that. 

You were trapped in your own flat, what nonsense.

In a few minutes, you were sitting in the bath and letting the warm water bring you some relief, just like it always did. Affected by sedatives, you didn’t even remember whether you closed the bathroom door or not, but being honest, you didn’t really care, because even if Patrick came here he wouldn’t see anything new. 

The bitter aftertaste of what happened made you feel like shit, and you really didn't know how to find a way out from it. As if it was not enough for you to be dependent on Patrick (you owe him a lot of money), now you gave him more weaknesses that he could potentially use against you. 

'Excellent!'

Hugging your knees, you burst in tears — salty tears that were falling into the water, leaving small circles on it. Before now, you didn’t even realize how devastated you were. You closed your eyes for a second and you drifted off almost instantly, and with each passing moment, your body was submerging into the water more and more.

Meanwhile, Bateman was sitting on the little couch in your living room, which he suddenly found pretty cozy, though he checked if everything was clean enough before he dared to take a seat. Did he really think that people outside Manhattan used to live in dirty, trashy apartments? Well, maybe he did, since he didn’t even remember when was the last time he was in such places.

Ever since you left, Patrick had been fighting the temptation to go through your things to find something interesting, which he would of course use for his own interests. But instead, he picked up one of your books from the coffee table, and as he did so, a small piece of paper fell out. Squinting suspiciously, Bateman leaned down to grab it, only to almost crumple it when he saw your handwriting —  the paper was completely covered with your notes, and they were all the same phrase — "If I want to be loved as I am, I have to be willing to love others as they are." Patrick couldn't count how many times you had written that, but each line he read evoked something strange in him — the unraveling feeling that urged him to rip the paper, to crumple it. Is it compassion that he was so afraid of?

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bateman took a deep breath and put the paper back in the book, no matter how much he wanted to destroy it or forget what he had just read. After that, he checked his Rolex and noticed that it had been quite a while since you had left. Slowly, he got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. His 'sixth sense' had never failed him before, so he decided to rely on it and check on you.

Patrick didn’t knock once he noticed that the door was not closed, he just stepped in, looking for you.

“Cupcake, are you—”

A chilling shock swept over him when he saw only the top of your head above the water. Without a second thought, he ran across the bathroom and knelt down beside the tub to pull you out of the water, and the moment he did, you began to cough, clinging to his arms and desperately gasping for air.

“Pat-Patrick,” you were shaking so badly, so he had to hold you in one place, pressing you against his solid chest. “I don’t know how that happened… I… I didn’t want this I—” “Shh, (y/n),” Bateman cooed at you in order to calm you down, but he wasn't any less scared than you. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Trembling, you looked up at him — your eyes so red from tears, your heart beating like a broken alarm-clock. “I think I ruined your suit… I’m so sorry!”

Appalled, you tried to break free but Patrick didn’t let you move, his strong arms were holding you like tight ropes. Damn, he was so angry — he could sense his blood boiling inside his veins, forcing his jaw to clench in a silent growl. He was so fucking mad at himself. 

How could he let this happen? 

As this question ran through his bewildered mind, he froze in fear. He didn't know if he was talking about letting you nearly drown in your own bathtub or letting you take roots on his broken soul. Maybe that was the reason you two had bonded, two broken souls seeking for something that would stop their pain, something that would bring them freedom from a burdened life. But how could he help you when every day he was fighting his dark side, the side you didn't know about yet? The side he wished you would never meet.

Never.

"God... I'm so stupid." You cried out, interrupting his train of thought and bringing him back to reality. 

"Shh," Bateman husked, cupping your face. "Stop talking!" He sighed and looked into your blurry eyes, breathing so heavily that it was almost painful. "Just don't say anything right now."

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the sedative had a side effect on you, but as soon as he tried to pull you out of the tub completely, your hand slipped down his chest to his groin — your sneaky fingers instantly playing with the buckle of his belt, causing a shaky groan to escape his lips. Dazed, you moved your hand lower to feel the outline of his thick cock getting harder under your touch, but as you were about to unzip his pants, his firm hand stopped you, confusing your cloudy mind and inducing you to raise your eyes to meet his. He could swear no one had ever looked at him like that — so innocently, yet so sinfully. 

"Cupcake, you don't want this," Patrick murmured, removing your hand. "Trust me."

"I do want this!" You replied in a trembling voice, pouting like a child.

"You're so fucking lost right now, you just don't understand," he manhandled you out of the tub and you almost punched him in his beautiful face, but Bateman paid no attention to your attempt to hit him. "Towels, where are they?"

Huffing, he lifted you up, and only then did you calm down, wrapping your hands and legs around him as securely as you could, like you were afraid of falling off the roof of the skyscraper. 

After you pointed at the bathroom counter, Bateman carefully moved towards it to take some big, white towel and wrap it around you — he was drying you off so gently and attentively, it almost made you cry again. 

Emotions were overtaking you.

Patrick didn't even say a word when he was done, he just got another dry towel and swaddled you in it like in a cocoon before carrying you out of the bathroom bridal style. Somehow, he managed to find the way to your bedroom, but once he saw your bed, he scowled and remarked: “Jesus, this bed is so small.”

“I love my bed.” You murmured in reply, hugging his neck and pressing yourself closer against his warm body.

Bateman couldn't help but chuckle in amusement, giving you a brief forehead kiss and sitting you down on the bed. As soon as you lost physical contact with him, you leaned on your elbows, watching him turn around and walk away.

“Patrick! Please, don’t go!” 

Your words echoed inside his head like the most sacred plea, they made him stop and looked in your direction. “I need to remove my clothes since they’re pretty damp,” he checked himself, with a visible disgust on his face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be a good girl, and just wait for me here, okay?”

“Fine.” You mumbled and took the plushy bunny which was resting on your bed next to you.

This scene made him chuckle before he left your bedroom. Now you were completely alone with your thoughts, they didn't wait a second to start eating you from the inside again. With your eyes closed, you lay on your back and began to count.

One, two, three…

What if he lied saying that he would return? Gosh, you wanted him to leave the moment you came here, so why were you getting so upset thinking about him leaving you alone just as you asked him for?

Four, five, six…

The inner voice kept reminding you how many times Patrick has hurt you, how many times he made you cry, how many times you felt like a toy in his hands. You gritted your teeth, pressing your hands against your head to stop thinking.

Seven, eight, nine…

How many times have you promised yourself that you would break out from this circle of lies, pain and suffering? 

“Stop it!” You whimpered, shutting your eyes as firm as you could until the tears started to form.

Ten.

“Stop what?” His voice—it was like a lifeline, like a light in the end of the tunnel, it was everything you needed here and now.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his almost naked form, namely his toned tiddies and his mouth watering V-line, not to mention his perfect abs and the small trail of hair below his navel.

“For one second I thought you would just leave.” You looked into his hazel eyes, which were partly covered by his messy, brown hair.

“In wet clothes?” He giggled and stepped closer to your bed. It was so hard to ignore the bulge in his tight white underwear, but you tried your best not to stare at it. “Feeling better?"

“Yes, I think y-yes,” you swallowed hard when Bateman sat on the edge of your small bed and drew an invisible line across your ankle. “Can I… ask you for something?”

“You can try.” His voice got lower, sending shivers down your spine.

Panting, you uncovered yourself, putting the towel aside and letting him admire the view of your beautiful body, a pleasure he gladly took, his thirsty eyes roaming all over your curves, especially your full breasts and your inviting neck.

“What do you want, Cupcake?” His hand slides up to your hip, teasing the sensitive skin and making you gasp from need. “Tell me.”

“I need you,” you bit your lower lip, frowning from how embarrassed you were. “I n-need you more than ever.”

With no rush, Bateman bent down to your belly to press a brief kiss which elicited a soft moan to fall from your shaky throat. “Show me where you need me.”

You were about to lost it at any second, as the mind-blowing passion was crashing over you like a fucking tsunami, and you didn’t even know if you would survive this. 

Could that be the moment of no return for both of you?

Stifling a moan, you took his big palm and guided between your opened legs—the sound of his fingers sliding along your oozed folds made you arched your back and you thought your heart would break out from your chest. Your heavy breathes filled up the room, and once you felt his hot lips on your mound, you nearly squeaked, creasing the sheets beneath you.

Patrick was enjoying every second of this moment, savoring the taste of your skin, reveling in all your little salacious noises when he encircled his arms around your legs and swiped his tongue over your throbbing clit.

That was the last drop of your resistance and you couldn't control it anymore, throwing your head back and mewling sensually: “Mmhm, Daddy…! You make me f-feel so good.”

“Are you sure you want this?” His sudden question pierced through your head like an electric pulse.

Gulping, you got up a bit to look down at him, his cheeks, neck and shoulders were already flushed, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were as dark as night.

“Yes,” you responded shortly, feeling a tight knot forming inside your lower abdomen just from being so close to his face. “Taste me, Daddy, please… I want to get lost… in you.”

“I see,” he said, hovering over you for a moment to grab the plushy bunny, then handing it to you with a mischievous grin. "Little girls always keep their favorite toys close?”

As soon as you held the bunny, Bateman got back to his previous position, fondling your hips here and there, then he kissed your inner thigh and put your legs together before bending them and pressing against your chest.

“Stay like that.”

After saying that, he brushed away his wavy locks, spit on your pussy and made several, barely sensible, strokes along your bundle of nerves, his sturdy arms were holding your legs to fixate you in one place as his ministrations were making it hard for you to stay still.

“Awww, P-Patrick,” you keened and squeezed the plush toy in your hand, feeling so dirty yet so high from the way his wet tongue was painting various ornaments on your taut lower lips. “I’m gonna faint…”

“Mmm,” he moaned against your feverish little bud before he took it inside his mouth, sucking it so deliciously that your eyes rolled back into your head, your inner walls were already spasming. “You’re my sweet little Cupcake.”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

Slurping at your soaked cunt, Bateman let you rest your legs on his shoulders and pull on his brown hair as you wanted to bring him even closer, moving your hips towards his face. God, you were such a wet moaning mess and when he shoved his long fingers inside of your dripping slit, you lost connection with reality and ascended to the apex of ecstasy.

His fingers were moving inside and outside of you like a clock-work, so smoothly and fast, since he knew your body so perfectly, it was quite simple for him to find your spongy G - spot. Once he started to stimulate it, your toes began to curve and your whole body was jolting as if you were hit by the eclectic shock.

The moment of your orgasm was as astonishing and relieving as a sip of water in the arid desert. But even after you cummed, Patrick didn’t stop eating you out, fingering you harder, so your juices were gashing around your sweaty bodies, the sheets beneath you were already wet and you didn’t know how you would live tomorrow when he leaves you.

“Mmmmh, I’mma cum again, D-Daddy!” You whimpered, squirming around the bed and pressing the plushy bunny against your face as you were on the verge of tears – overstimulation hitting pretty hard.

Bateman only growled in response and stuffed your soaked pussy with another finger, rhythmically swirling his hot tongue around your throbbing tip while his sneaky hand traced up along your shivering body to grope one of your breasts and pinch your engorged nipple.

“Ahhh—GOSH…! Pat...” Your voice cracked as you cummed so hard all around his face that your wetness was literally running down his chin. But he didn’t care, because the only thing that mattered for him was bringing you as much pleasure as he could.

Even when he was panting heavily against your abused cunt, and he almost couldn't feel his fingers anymore, he continued to lap at your cleft. By that moment your legs were looped around his head and you couldn’t stop twitching even for a second, with each lick he sent millions of tingles to your lower belly.

“Daddy, it’s t-too much… I can’t take it any longer.” You felt so goddamn sensitive, and your body was like jelly at this point.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he groaned in a raspy voice after he pulled on your clit with a nasty squeal. “You can give Daddy another one, can't you baby? For me, please?"

This time Patrick buried his tongue as deep inside your womb as he could, licking you from the inside out. He repeated the motion, making you climax countless times in a row, until your little frame couldn't bear it anymore. Soon, you drifted off with a smile of joy on your face, holding the plushy bunny close to your chest. Long time ago that toy was your only friend, but now it seemed like you have become a toy yourself. But unlike the plush bunny, it was obvious that you weren't the only toy for your owner.

Why did it hurt so good to be alive?

You heard a faint voice calling you and asking for help, but no matter how hard you tried to follow it and find it—all you could see was darkness before your eyes. Scared, you moved along the dark alley, surrounded by shadows, shivering from the abnormal cold, and for a second you even thought you were already dead. But when the voice called you again, you finally realized that it was your inner voice, but it sounded so sad, even compared to your darkest days.

"How did you end up like this, (y/n)?" Your own reflection spoke to you, each word cutting through your heart like a dagger. "You're so pathetic and weak, what would Mom and Dad say if they knew about your 'successful' life in New York?"

Frowning, you closed your hands around your ears to stop this madness, but the more you tried to ignore it, the louder the voice became in your head.

"Look what you've done to yourself! Do you really think he cares about you?" 

"Leave me alone!" You yelled at your shadow copy and ran down the alley, but there seemed to be no escape.

"Wake the fuck up! Bateman is just using you for his own needs, and you let him treat you like a fucking toy. Being in debt to him is not an excuse!" You could hear it even with your ears closed and there was nowhere to hide.

"SHUT UP!" You sped up, the cold air hitting your face mercilessly, but you didn't care. "Get out of my head!"

God, it was so fucking absurd to argue with yourself.

Perplexed and scared, you suddenly realized that the faster you were running the louder your inner voice was getting, bringing you a sharp headache as if a million needles cut into your brain at once. It hurt really bad.

“Patrick! Patrick, where are you?” You cried out as the darkness was clouding around you with each passing second. “Please, I need you…” A single tear slid down your warm cheek when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as though you were drowning. “Pat-Patrick…”

Slowly closing your eyes, you let the void consume you, which actually brought you some relief, because now you were free from pain and sorrow, reveling in the sweet space of non-existence.

A loud gasp bounced against the walls of your small bedroom, signaling of your eventual awakening. Panting, you sat on the bed only to see Bateman’s sleepy form next to you—he was sleeping like a baby, laying on his back and sniffling from time to time. Shocked, you were trying your best to regain your composure and steady your heavy breathing, not even noticing that you were drenched in sweat. 

Quietly, you slipped out from under the covers to find yourself completely naked, so the next thing you did was find something to put on. Subsequently, you rushed inside your small bathroom and saw Bateman’s clothes drying off on the battery—the memories of the recent events flashed across your mind like a slow-motion movie. First, you were taking a bath—which was still full of cold water—then you nearly drowned but Patrick came in time and literally saved you. The next flashbacks made you lean on the sink and hold back your breath—his eager mouth on your cunt, forcing you to lose your mind and cum again and again until you eventually drifted off. 

Jesus Christ.

Embarrassed, you quickly opened the water and washed your face several times until you cooled down a bit. After you regain your composure, you fasten your terry robe and head to the kitchen as you were so starved that you even had a stomach ache. 

New York was already awake, and the sun was high above the horizon, shining so brightly in the windows that you had to close your blinds and thank God it was Sunday and you didn't have to go to the office because your head was spinning due the aftereffect of your sedative pills. Speaking of them—once you saw the jar with pills on the kitchen counter you threw it into the rubbish without any second thought, yet you didn’t want Bateman to know that he had an influence on your decision. When you closed the door to the kitchen, you accidentally slammed it harder than you should have, and it cracked so loudly that it sounded like a bundle of dishes broke at the same time.

"Damn it!" You cursed to yourself, pressing a palm to your face, certain that the noise would wake Bateman up.

Panicking a bit, you retreated to your bedroom and as soon as you stepped in you saw the man of your dreams stretching out and yawning so adorable, that for a moment you just froze in your place, not capable of taking your eyes off from Bateman’s disheveled hair and his broad chest.

With a low growl, Patrick pulled the blanket away and finally noticed you. "Woah, Cupcake, was that you?" The man chuckled, casually flexing his muscles as he looked at the mirror next to the door where you were standing. "I thought something had exploded outside."

Abashed, you quickly adjusted your robe from his piercing gaze. "Sorry, I can be really..."

"Clumsy?" Smiling broadly, Bateman leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms. 

"Yes, clumsy," you tugged with your fingers, briefly glancing down—damn, he seemed to be the only person who could embarrass you so easily. "Well...do you want anything?"

"Hmmm, let me think," Patrick hummed before he thoughtfully pressed a finger to his plump lips. "I probably have something on my mind," Bateman gave you a mischievous grin when he saw your curious look and smoothed his golden brown hair. "How about a morning blowjob?" Your instant reaction was a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which made the man's face look even more smug. "Relax! I'm joking." 

Of course he wasn't joking—you knew it and couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd pretend I didn't hear that," you said, finally looking away from his sturdy body. "How about breakfast?"

"That sounds really good."

Shocked, you took a moment to think about the possible options you could cook for him since you didn’t really expect him to give you a positive answer. “I can offset you with a scrambled egg and some fresh orange juice.”

With a satisfied grin, the man slowly got up from your modest bed and stretched his muscles again; he was definitely making it on purpose. “Oh, that’s nice,” he almost groaned when he cocked his head to one side then to another. “I can’t say the same about your bed, Cupcake… you should change the mattress if you want to keep walking with a straight back.”

And though Patrick was lamenting, you could say he said it almost affectionately—as if he really cared about you, yet you brushed this conclusion off as fast as your heart was pounding right now when the man got closer to you; his tall, massive frame towered over you like a mountain.

“I also would like to have a shower, if…there’s such an option,” Bateman smirked and briefly traced a finger along your cheek, coaxing you to close your eyes for a second and revel in the soft sensation of his touch. “Did you sleep well?”

A sudden question that fell from his lips like a suffocated gasp, a tender stroke on your shoulder and you were already melting as Patrick knew what he was doing, every touch, every glance of his brown hypnotic eyes was deliberate and smooth, leaving you no chance but to surrender to his demand.

“Yes, I slept like a baby, though I can hardly remember the things that happened before I blacked out,” you lied with an embarrassed smile. “You can have a shower and use whatever soaps and towels you’ll see.” Thee more you talked the more his lips curled, especially when you allowed him to bring you closer into his embrace. “But don’t expect anything extraordinary.”

“I won’t, I promise,”  the man chuckled and playfully pinched your ass. “Sleeping beauty.”

With that, Patrick walked past you, leaving you alone for a moment, giving you a chance to pull yourself together. And when you seemed to relax, a thought of his clothes that had been left in the bathroom popped up in your mind. ‘Oh God, I forgot!’

Nervously, you rushed after Patrick into your bathroom to see that the door was already closed, implying that he was inside and probably naked, though you couldn’t hear the sound of flowing water. Embarrassed, you coughed quietly and knocked several times.

“Yeah?” Bateman’s muffled voice echoed through the door. 

“Patrick, I…” a short pause turned into a breathless gasp. “If you’re not already in the shower, may I come in?”

After a moment, the door in front of you opened and you saw Patrick wrapped in a white towel. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you giggled nervously and sneaked inside the bathroom to quickly grab his clothes. “I just wanted to iron your…suit and stuff, while you’re in the shower…” Quickly, you hovered his garments over your arm and walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions, despite his surprised expression. “I’m so sorry for dumping your clothes yesterday.”

With these words, you deftly avoid his grasp as you knew he’d definitely try to make you embarrassed even more. “(Y/n)!”

“Take a shower. I’ll make you breakfast as I promised.” 

This time, the man didn’t try to catch you or follow you, thankfully. So, you could safely make it to your living room where you set an ironing board and put his shirt first to iron. Wrapped in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how carefully you were ironing his clothes, you couldn’t even remember doing the same with your stuff but maybe you were just scared of ruining it since everything he wore was utterly expensive. ‘This suit probably costs like my monthly rent.’ Sighing, you put the shirt aside when you heard the water flowing sound and your mind instantly gave you an image of Patrick’s naked body, enveloped in steam and slightly flush from the heat. ‘Damn, I should stop or I'm gonna ruin something.’ When it was time to iron his tie, you ran your finger along the smooth red fabric, draped in beautiful intricate patterns—you couldn't deny that you had a thing for his ties, for all of them—you smiled to yourself before bringing it to your lips, you could still feel his cologne on it. This tantalizing scent was driving you crazy, it fit him so perfectly as if it was made specially for him, but even if that was true, you wouldn’t be surprised at all, regarding how rich this man was. The moment you finished ironing his pants, you seemed to hear his voice coming from the bathroom. ‘Perfect timing.’

Slightly tensed, you stopped next to the door. “Patrick? Did you call me?” When he didn’t reply, you became even more stirred, so without really caring about seeing him naked, you opened the door and stepped in. “Patrick?” Since your bathroom was much smaller than his, you bumped into his massive frame, squealing in surprise. “Oh God, sorry!”

“Oh, Cupcake,” he wrapped his hands around your shoulders before carefully cupping your face. “I hope you didn’t break your nose against my firm chest?”

Frowning, you gave him a dead glare but he only snickered back. “What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush for me? I’ll buy you another one and…”

You stopped him halfway and removed his hands to stroll to the sink and opened the cabinet above it. “Here. There’s also a razor if you need.”

Smirking, Bateman sneaked behind you and pressed his wet body against yours. “Do ya think I need to shave?” He rubbed the mirror from steam to check himself, sliding a hand along his chiseled chin.

“I…I don’t know…I just thought in case you need to, the razor is here.”

“Mhm…” he hummed and before you knew it he nuzzled against your exposed neck, forcing you to gasp and stepped back right into his embrace, just like he planned it. “Does that tickle, Cupcake?” 

‘Dear Lord, please give me the strength to survive this.’

Staying still, you just swallowed hard and let him continue to attack your neck, which he did with precious care before, but now, Patrick also used his mouth and teeth, and that was already too much.

"I think you definitely have some stubble," you laughed, trying to turn it into a joke. But as soon as you tried to walk away, he pulled you back into his strong arms, and that was not funny. "Breakfast Patrick, I have to make breakfast, did you forget?"

"Not really, but I need your help."

"Help?"

The man gave you a devilish smile before lifting you up and sitting you on the bathroom counter, not even giving you a chance to protest. Then Bateman took the shaving cream, checking the brand name skeptically, but then averting his eyes, probably thinking it was better not to know. With deliberate, calculated movements, he applied the cream to his cheekbones, moving up and down his face. The sight was something you never thought you'd find so damn hot that you didn't even make a sound, just watched him carefully prepare to shave.

"Have you ever seen a man shave, darling?" Patrick asked in a cheeky tone, surely noticing the way you were staring at him.

You shook your head. “No,” you shamelessly checked on him, following the little buds of water slipping down his torso. “God, this is such a silly question, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Bateman flexed his muscles while watching in the mirror and missing the way you rolled your eyes. “Well, now you finally have a chance.” The man winked at you and grabbed the razor. “You know, I really like your place, it’s pretty clean.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yes,” you crossed your arms and turned away just the moment when the man started to glide the razor against his jawline—you thought the blade would become blunt because his cheekbones were too sharp—his every action was smooth and skillful. “That was the first thing you said when we came in.”

“That only means that it’s really very clean here.”

Huffing, you fixed your robe and cursed to yourself, ‘Why does he always have to be like this?’

Opening the faucet, Patrick cleaned his face after the last stroke of the razor. “Can you check here?” 

Confused, you gave him a questioning gaze when he turned halfway, pointing at the apex of his jaw. Sheepishly, you touched his freshly shaved skin, feeling a slight prickly sensation. “I think it’s still a bit stubbly.” 

“Aha,” Bateman acknowledged and quickly took your hand in his big one, briefly kissing the top of it and giving you the razor. “I told you, I’d need your help, Cupcake.” “How do you even do it yourself?”

“The razors I use are much sharper than this one, honey,” he chuckled but once you placed the razor against his skin he stopped moving. “Just be careful.”

The last phrase struck a chord inside your chest and you even stopped for a moment to take a deep breath before you eventually began to shave the rest of the stubble. All the while, Patrick would glance at you attentively, his hazel irises like hypnotizing spirals, so you forced yourself to stay focused on the razor and the patch of his skin still covered in a shaving cream.

“You have such soft skin,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but you were sure he heard it. “It’s so pleasurable to touch.”

“(Y/n),” he suddenly called out your name in a stern voice. “I think we should talk about yesterday.” “No…”

"Listen to me," he grabbed the hand that held the razor and pushed it to the side. "You should stop taking that sedative."

“It was just an accident.” 

“You could die, Cupcake…”

"I...I know...I owe you for saving me," you finally stated, releasing your hand to finish shaving him. "But let me take care of my life."

“Ouch.”

“Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” You jolted in panic, almost dropping the razor as if you were hit by the electric shot.

“Yes, you did,” Bateman glided a palm along his now perfectly shaved cheeks. “With your words.”

Letting out a sad sigh, you put the razor into the sink next to you and reached for another towel for him as you watched him washing his face. The more you kept silent, the more palpable the tension was getting in the air and after a brief moment of contemplating, you decided that the best option now was just to go to the kitchen and cook.

“Toothbrush is here.” You murmured and got up from the bathroom counter, about to leave but Patrick stopped you. 

First, you glanced down at his grasp around your wrist, then you raised your eyes to meet his walnut ones, now they were absolutely dark and demanding. Inch by inch, the man was getting closer, soon you could feel the fresh scent of your soap on his wet skin as he pressed you along his broad form, one hand rested on the small of your back, while another snaked beneath your robe to outline one of your hard peaks, which were visible through the fabric.

“Pat-Patrick…”

“No more ‘Daddy’ again, huh?” he whispered into your ear, playing with your stray lock. “Do you remember how many times you called me like that last night?”

‘No! I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember this, I…’

“...your sweet voice sounded so good with all these little dirty pleas, ‘Daddy, don’t stop, mmhm-please!’ Uhhh, that was really something,” Bateman crooned against your neck, forcing you to step back until he trapped you between his massive body and bathroom counter. “Got you.”

There was nothing to say more, once his warm mouth latched on yours, the urge to deny him fading with every second of the kiss, especially when Patrick savagely sucked on your lower lip and drew his tongue across it as if asking for permission to slip inside.

Gasping, you instinctively inclined your head to the side for a moment and the man used it for showering your delicate neck with little peeks which then transformed into wet, red marks. This sweet torture could last forever if you suddenly didn’t press your palm against his naked chest in a determined way.

“We can’t,” you protested when he got down to kiss you again. “You’re engaged, don’t you think it’s so mean to…cheat on your fiance?”

The man couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What does that have to do with anything? You owe me, Cupcake, you owe me a lot.” 

Annoyed, you made an attempt to push him away, but you obviously failed as Patrick was too strong, looming over you like a mountain. “If you mean the last time—I already thanked you and moreover, I didn’t ask you to do it, you know?” You watched his face changing into something more impish, the corners of his lips curled up as if everything was happening according to his plan. “You always decide for me…maybe it’s time to stop?”

Bateman chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to finally open your eyes?”

“Are you…really telling me this?!”

“You owe me a pretty big sum of money,” the man suddenly turned the conversation in another way. “And we had a deal…” Carefully, he trailed his finger along your cheek like an artist admiring his most precious creation. “Do you think I’d be so patient with your bad attitude to me if I were not really into you, hmm?”

The last words made you swallow hard and turned away for a moment, as you were on the verge of tears. Did he really just confirm that there was some kind of affection for you from his side?

“I…I know I owe a lot of money, but believe me, I’ll back them soon,” you removed his arms from your waist but the next second, Patrick placed them on the bathroom counter behind you from both sides, not allowing you to go away. “Please, believe me.”

“I don’t need that fucking money,” Patrick barked and unexpectedly gripped your shoulders, but when he noticed the glowing fear in your eyes, the man loosened his grasp and cupped your face. “I need you. Both your body and soul.”

Closing your eyes, you wanted to sink through the ground. “You want me to do things that you can’t buy with money…” you declared with a chilling coldness in your voice. “Other women are okay with being your toys, but I’m not. Now, let's finish this conversation, it won’t lead to anything.”

A tired sigh broke out from Bateman’s broad chest and for a second he even thought to let you go and turned over the page of the story of two broken souls, who met themselves so suddenly. Maybe now was that exact moment he was waiting so long, the moment to open the cards and confess, even though Patrick could hardly believe it would work.

"You don't seem to be listening to me at all," was all the man could say. "And that's not surprising, since no one really listens to me. Because...uhh...because no one really cares about what really bothers me…" He let you go and stepped back. "And you...I thought you were the only person who...who actually tried to understand me and act naturally."

"Patrick..."

He raised his hand in an eloquent gesture to let him continue. "You probably did it all because of the debt, but...I'll be honest, sometimes I made myself believe that you weren't acting like this just because of the money."

"Is this another manipulation?" You asked bluntly, holding back your tears. "How could I believe you after all the things you did to me? How many times did you treat me like a puppet that you no longer wanted to play with? And not to mention that you turned out to be engaged!" You grabbed your head and leaned against the bathroom counter, massaging your temples. "This is already too much."

The man huffed and cautiously approached you. With a soft, feathery movement, he touched your hands and pulled them away from your strained face. "At least you seem to care that I'm engaged," he said abruptly, moving you closer so that your head was now pressed against his massive chest. "I know it's overwhelming, (y/n). But..." the words suddenly stuck in his throat like a lump. "You're not alone in this." Patrick urged curly, running his large palm along the crown of your head before resting his chin on it, inhaling the scent of your soft hair. 

‘Not alone’, you repeated inside your head and looked up into his brown eyes, which were now so stern and contemplative—you have never seen them like that before. This man, oh God, this man was such a mess, he was making you lose the ground beneath your feet with his sudden confessions, but in the end, actions spoke louder than words, even though you wanted to believe him and sink into the strong feeling you had towards him—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in him as you would burn out like a match.

All the while you were standing like that, Bateman was hoping you would say something in return, but when you didn’t, he just released you from his embrace without saying a thing. Overwhelmed by emotions, you left the bathroom and let him finish his hygienic routine in private.

A bit later, you didn’t even remember how you cooked a breakfast for both of you, the only thing you did remember was his positive comment that it tasted pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile, though your plate still stood untouched. Patrick noticed that, but didn’t make any comments about that.

“To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to be that nice,” he chuckled and finished his glass of mineral water that he didn’t really like. Quickly checking his Rolex, which he wore right after he took a shower, he added, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?”

“Sure.” You raised up and quickly strolled to the iron board where his suit and shirt were waiting to be presented to their owner. “Here, I ironed them for you.”

Bateman froze in shock for a moment. “You…ironed them?”

“Uh, yes, but I did it very carefully, I know everything you wear is utterly expensive,” you gave him his garments and he started to examine every thing with meticulous attention. “I…I thought you wouldn’t like to go outside in rumpled clothes.”

"That's… that's very sweet of you, Cupcake. Really…" he replied, his blush barely noticeable to anyone but you. "Thanks…thanks for everything."

“You’re welcome.” You murmured shyly, crossing your arms over the chest and watching him getting up from the table and walking to your bedroom to dress up.

Moments later, you both were standing in your small hallway, Patrick fixing his tie and coat, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“How do I look?” He asked nonchalantly, putting on the headphones of his Walkman.

Slightly upset, you leaned against the wall, your eyes gliding up and down his elegant, tall silhouette; the way the dark blue trench coat sat on his broad shoulders made you almost gasp in admiration.

“Perfect as always,” you stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. “You’re like a Vogue cover which came alive.”

Fluttered, Bateman smiled and caught your hand to place a kiss on top of it. “And I always believe your compliments, they are so…sincere or…” he paused and looked into your eyes. “...or I’m just fooling myself.”

His usual chuckling now was less happy and it stirred something inside of you, so when you got up on your toes to kiss his cheek, Patrick took it like another chance to be intimate with you. With unhidden tenderness, the man pulled you into his arms to seal your mouths with a soft but passionate kiss which brought some unexpected relief for both of you.

“You know, I…I really appreciate your courage to be open with me,” you suddenly confessed when he broke the kiss, still holding you close. “It’s just that I need some time to think over things and…my life is such a mess.”

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that," Bateman sneered ironically to himself. "Since I know who made your life so messy," he stopped you from saying anything else by pressing his finger to your lips. Then the man slowly leaned down so that your foreheads now touched in the most intimate way. "Promise me you won't take those pills again."

"And you promise me you won't say things like no one gives a fuck about you," you gripped his arm, rubbing his firm bicep under the soft fabric of his coat. "Because I do give a fuck about you, even though I don't really like it."

"We'll talk about...us. That's the only promise I can make right now."

"Us?"

"You heard what I said," he pinched your nose, just like after the fashion show. "I'll call you today and Cupcake?" He leaned down to whisper in your ear, accidentally brushing his nose against your neck. "You're always on my mind, but I still haven't decided if it's good or not." The way he used your words to tease you brought a broad smile to your face, but the next time, all joy faded as the man stroked your cheek one last time before stepping aside to check himself in the mirror. "Hope to see you soon, darling."

With that he closed the door behind him and as much as you hated saying goodbye, you hated the moments like that, when you couldn’t control yourself as your emotions peaked, causing your knees to buckle and you stopped yourself from falling down only because you managed to lean on the nearby wall. The whole thing about your relationship with Bateman was one big mistake, as you would never find yourself belonging to this world—your meeting was a joke of fate—no less to say. Although you knew it, your heart was like a rebellion who refused to listen, to obey, to accept the truth that there were no chances to turn this situation in a way that would help these relationships to become healthy and normal. ‘Normal, huh? Do yuppies even know such a word?’ Laughing ironically to yourself, you got up and went back into your kitchen to wash the dishes. The sight of Patrick sitting here with a glass of water in his hand was still so fresh in your mind, but now you began to doubt if that really had happened. 

All day later, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, waiting for his call but he never did it. It was not surprising after the shit that man had done, but today you were really hoping he would keep his word. But your hopes were broken to pieces again, in the most brutal possible way because you really decided to give it a try and believed him.

When the night came to New York City, you were standing in your living room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking about what would you do next and trying to think less about what Patrick was doing right now…and even less about with whom he probably could be. ‘...with Courtney or maybe with his fiance, Evelyn?’ You snickered sadly to yourself and finished your drink. Coffee was supposed to help you to keep awake but instead it only made you even more sleepy, so you didn’t even realize how you fell asleep on your little couch while putting down the notes of how today’s day had gone in your diary.

The next moment you were awakened by the sudden doorbell, which caught you off guard and even scared you a bit as you didn’t wait for anyone. Quickly enveloping your robe, you got up and saunted to the door to look at the peephole—you would lie to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting someone specific, but when you saw nothing but flowers, your heart skipped a beat. 

With one swift motion, you opened the door and an unknown guy instantly greeted you with a polite tone. “Good morning, miss (y/n),” he then handed you a big bouquet of red and white roses—it was so heavy you could barely hold it. “Uh, can you please put your sign here?”

Confused, you pressed the flowers to your chest to see the man’s face. “Are you… are you sure it’s for me?”

The courier only smiled and giggled. “Of course, but you can check the address, if you want,” the man showed you the paper with the order details. “We make no mistakes, miss, that’s why our service is the best around New York.”

“I see,” you responded and put your signature on the place he pointed you. “But, can I ask you who sent me this?”

“There’s a card inside if I’m not mistaken,” the courier replied and with that he put the paper inside his bag. “Have a good day, ma'am.”

“Thanks.” 

With that, you closed the door and somehow proceeded into your living room where you put the bouquet on the coffee table and began to look for the vase for it. When you managed to find it, you poured some water and placed the flowers into it, then you remembered the courier’s words about the card and the next second you were already leafing through the flowers. Soon, a small white card caught your attention and when you picked it out, the first thing you noticed was two beautiful letters—P.B. in the end of the text which said: 

“Good morning, my sweet Cupcake, 

I’m sorry I didn’t call you tonight, I was extremely busy and didn’t really have any free time, but I hope this little gift would cheer you up a bit. What do you think about going to a yacht club these weekends? I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Utterly yours, P.B.” 

Your hands began to shake the moment you finished reading, but you managed to regain your composure. Driven by the unbridled happiness inside your chest, you leaned down to inhale the sweet scent of flowers—God, it felt like a dream. And speaking of dreaming—you were still so sleepy that after you finally calmed down, you decided to come back into the bed and nap a little bit longer. The sheets were still smelling of him, coaxing you to rub your face against the pillows and imagine him being here with you and somehow, you finally realized how deep this man was rooted inside your heart. ‘Utterly yours…’ You kept replaying these words inside your head until you drifted off to another dream, but this time, it was not a nightmare, but a heaven where Patrick was only yours, and you were his only one.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[the-froschamethyst4]

Big Dick Energy

𖤐Pairing: Mafia! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, eating out, P in V, fingering, blowjob, smoking, drinking, flirting, tatted up Alejandro, married couple, mention of nudity, drunk love, dirty nickname (slut),

𖤐Summary: Alejandro was cruel and he just gives off big dick energy, I mean you should know, you’re his wife, so how big is it?

————

————

Alejandro sat on a velvet red couch watching people dance around in his club. He hated these people, they came, they go, what can you do, but he hates the people that only use him.

He swirls his glass around and looks at the man talking to him from the corner of his eye, he hated this guy. He always got on Alejandro's nerves, every little thing.

"God don't you ever shut up?" Alejandro mumbled to himself, the guy wouldn't have heard Alejandro, the music was too loud.

"I mean come on, I should have won my bet, but of course that stupid card had to take it all away," all Alejandro knew this guy was talking about poker.

He couldn't give two flying shits about poker, Alejandro is running an empire here, he makes money all on his own and along with hiring some people, he doesn't need to waste his time on stupid betting games.

He already owns a club that makes millions when he's here or not. He looks on the dancefloor to see someone, his wife. She liked to join Alejandro when he comes to the club for business. Tonight was like any other night, he did his job and she danced and had fun.

Everyone knew not to mess her because if they did, Alejandro would have their head and heart on a silver plater.

Her body glide across the dancefloor as she had fun, Alejandro kept a close eye on her. Y/n made eye contact with her husband slowly moving off the dancefloor and walking towards him, her hips moving from side to side.

She moves closer to him and sat on his lap, he just looked up at her his hand moving to her bare thigh.

"Can you go?" He asks the guy next to him.

"Me? I-I guess," the guy left and Alejandro looked at Y/n giving her a smile, his left hand going to her cheek cupping it and kissing her jaw.

"You look so beautiful," he says kissing her jaw some more.

"I know you told me before we left the house," she giggles.

"Y/n..." she looks down at him.

"Yes?"

"We should head home...I'm tired here, bored here, let's go home," he says. She got off his lap and he grabbed her hand pushing through the crowd and heading to the front doors, pulling them open and a black McLaren pulled up, the valet got out of the car and gave Alejandro his keys.

He opens the door for Y/n and she gets in. He drove them home, his hand rested on her thigh and the other gripping the stirring wheel. Y/n played with his big fingers as she looks out of the window watching the buildings pass by.

"Did you have fun?" His voice broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did, I didn't get a chance to drink though."

"I'll make you something at home," he says.

"Good," she smiles at him.

--------

Once home Alejandro helped Y/n out of his car and they headed inside the mansion. Alejandro twirled Y/n around her heels in his hand and a big smile on his face.

Alejandro always kept his heart close to the world and never thought he will EVER find love, he deemed it as impossible for himself to ever find love or fall in love.

Once he met Y/n his heart was open and he fell in love, he married her a year after they started dating and the wedding happened within a week, Alejandro wanted everything perfect for her and once married, Alejandro and Y/n wanted their time together before the thought of children ever come into their lives.

Y/n plops on the couch kicking her feet onto the coffee table and Alejandro went to the bar pouring her a mixed drink. She fluffs up her hair and then took the drink from her husband.

"Thank you, love."

"Anything for you, mi amor (my love)," he kisses her lips, holding her chin and started to briefly make out.

"Alejandro, please..." she says as his lips attacked her neck. She brings the glass to her lips taking a sip of the drink.

Alejandro then stops and starts pulling at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt completely showing off his toned body. She smiles at him, placing her drink down on the coffee table and she starts moving to his pants.

Unbuckling his pants and unbuttoning his pants as well. She gets a full view of his bulge in her face. She licks her lips as she looks up at him, gently kissing his bulge and slowly moving her hand up to his boxers next, but he holds her wrist from stopping her from going any further which made her groan.

"Come on, baby," she says, looking up at him.

"You'll have your fun in a little bit," he says, kissing her lips. "First off, I'm fucking hungry, you want anything?" he asks, before walking to the kitchen.

"I want you," she pleads.

"No, food," he says as he opens the fridge.

"Fine," she groans rolling off the couch and grabbing her drinks and she walks to the kitchen. "I want spaghetti," she says.

"Alrighty then," he says, grabbing noodles, two pots and some sauce.

"Can I help with anything?" She asks.

"Just sit there and look pretty, I got this," he says, cupping her face and kissing her lips again.

And she did just that, sitting on the marble counter, her short dress riding up to her thighs exposing a bit of her lacy underwear, she crosses her ankles leaning forward as her hands were planted on the counter.

"Can I try the sauce?" Alejandro usually made it homemade.

"Sure, mi amor," he dips the spoon in and brings it to her mouth.

"Good, very good, like usual," she says, kissing his lips.

"I'm glad, I didn't do anything different but I get worried that I may have missed an ingredient or something."

"It probably would still be good anyways," she smiles getting off the counter and hugging his waist.

After a while Alejandro and Y/n were eating dinner at their dinner table, Alejandro was drinking whiskey as Y/n was drinking wine like usual. Alejandro just stares at Y/n as she eats.

"Do I have something on my face?" She asked, taking the napkin and going around her mouth, all she got off was some lipstick.

"Nah, nothing, you're just so...sexy."

"You're a flirt."

"I'm your flirt," he smirks, leaning on his palm and still staring at her.

Alejandro then smirks before sliding down his chair and he's never done this before but crawled to Y/n's legs that were crossed, when he gets to her knees, his rough and calloused hands touching her made her jump.

"A-Ale-" she was soon cut off by his tongue licking a stripe up her wet panties. She tossed her head back and her fingers started to go through his soft hair.

"F-Fuck," she moans as he hooks his fingers around the helm of her panties and pulled hem down taking them off and licking between her wet folds now.

Her legs wanted to close so badly but his hands were holding her thighs open, she whines and grips his soft hair. Her right hand went to his hand holding open her legs. His large tatted hand made her look so small.

Alejandro then looks up at her through his long sweaty hair, she moans and leans her back, Alejandro then proceeds to move his mouth causing her to groan.

Alejandro smirks licking his fingers and then sticking them inside of her and his mouth went back around her lower half licking at her bud, and moving his fingers quickly in and out of Y/n.

She could feel herself about to cum soon, Alejandro smirks moving his mouth again and this time just his fingers.

"Come on, mi amor, come on," he groans moving his fingers faster in and out of her, she was a moaning mess. She ended up coming on his fingers, he smirks before licking her clean and then picking her up.

Taking her up to their shared bedroom, placing her on the bed, he lifts up the bottom of her dress and takes it off her completely. He smirks seeing her breasts on full display for him, she smiles and her face is a little heated up from embarrassment.

"Don't feel embarrass, amor, we've done it before."

"I know," she says, running her hands down her thighs feeling how smooth and soft they were. Alejandro started to unbutton the rest of his shirt and she helps him unbuckle his pants.

He looks down at her when his dick sprung out of his pants. Y/n licks her lips and then kisses his tip, he tosses his head back, hand going behind her head. Her mouth now around him, in a way of repaying him.

He smirks knowing how good his wife is. She looks up at him, she sits on her knees, hands on his thighs and her nose sometimes touching his lower stomach, he moans.

"God, you're s-so good at this," he says, licking the corner of his mouth and smirking down at her. Alejandro knows he's big, and thick, and he also knows Y/n can take him like it's nothing.

He doesn't want to say he 'trained' her to take his cock, but he did. She's gotten so use to him that taking him was no problem whatsoever.

"God, you are such a slut, taking me so well," his hand cupped under her chin as she continued to suck him off. She moved her mouth and starts pumping him quickly. She opens her mouth as cum squirts from his tip into her mouth.

"Fuck, mi amor," he says.

He lays in the middle of the bed, legs semi spread, arms resting on the headboard of the bed, Y/n looking at him between his legs. Before anything else starts, Alejandro leaned over into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a cigarette lighting it and then looking back at Y/n.

"Come on, amor, one more," he says, she crawls on top of him. Taking his dick and aligning it at her entrance. She slowly sinks herself onto his dick, slowly bouncing at first.

Her hands resting on his shoulders, his cigarette going between his lips and his hands holding her waist helping her pick up the pace just a bit.

Her moans tossing her head back her body had collapsed on his chest, he smirks and then sits back up looking at him now.

"Am I-I going to fast?"

"Amor, go as fast or slow as you need," he says, moving the cigarette from his lips tapping the burnt end into his little ash tray next to the bed and proceeding to kiss her neck.

Y/n didn't mind the smoking, she lowkey thought it was hot, and sexy, he didn't do it all the time which also made Y/n not mind it.

She starts to move fast, Alejandro smirking when hearing her moans come from her lips. He leans forward taking her lips into his, it became a heated make out session now.

Alejandro cupping her face, and kissing her lips. His rough hands held her waist and his tongue soon passed her lips. Y/n moved her mouth to be able to breath now, his lips attacked her neck. His hands cupping her breasts.

Y/n looks down at the cigarette and taking it from his fingers and putting it in her mouth, Alejandro knew she didn't smoke and it caught him by surprise when she took it and blew out smoke with no issue.

"Amor?"

"You have shitty taste in cigarettes," she said through a slightly disgusted look.

"But I have good taste in women," he says, laying Y/n on her back taking back is cigarette putting it back between his lips and starts picking up the pace. Her arms go around his neck, and he leans down taking her left nipple into his mouth suckling on her and flicking her bud with his tongue.

"G-God, I'm g-going to cum," she moans.

"Do it, amor, I can feel you squeeze around me," he says, putting his head back.

She let's out another moan before she felt herself coming, Alejandro sits up placing his hand on her lower stomach feeling his dick bulge in her. He then ends up coming inside of her.

----------

Alejandro was against the headboard and holding Y/n against his body. He put his cigarette out and rubbed Y/n's waist.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yes," she says back, bring up the blanket over her shoulders.

Her naked body, was so warm while his was burning hot. Alejandro looks down at Y/n rubbing her soft body with his rough hands, she looks up at him.

"What?"

"Nothing...I just want to hold you for a little bit," he says, before kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles up at him.

"I love you."

"I love you too, mi amor."

[cartierre]

SINCE WAY BACK | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!black!producer!reader (fc: alexis carrington)

side note: drake is aged up in this because i want y/n to be born around 2000/2001 but that would mean drake was 14/15 when he became a dad... so he's just a few years older here to make it more believable okay? great. side note pt2: there are so many long twitter threads used to explain the whole backstory. like, really really long. i didn't know how else to explain everything, i'm sorry.

♡ liked by champagnepapi, mclaren, octobersveryown and 829,938 others

tagged: mclaren, octobersveryown

f1 BREAKING: October's Very Own (OVO) joins the McLaren team as their new primary sponsor for the 2023 season.

#F1 #Formula1 #McLaren

view all 5,328 comments

user1 what the fuck is drake doing here

user2 i'm actually so gagged like what is happening why is drake invested in f1 all of a sudden

user3 this is such an odd pairing? drake and zak brown together feels like a fever dream

user4 drake joining f1 as a sponsor was definitely not on my 2023 bingo card

user5 caitlyn jenner buying a whole w series team is less surprising than whatever this is

♡ liked by yourusername, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 187,385 others

lando.jpg adonis is teaching me how to play basketball because otherwise he "cannot accept me" i've been humbled by a 5 year old

view all 483 comments

user6 is that the girl he might or might not be dating ⤷ user7 i need to know otherwise i might die (i won't but the suspense is killing me)

user8 WHO IS THAT GIRL LANDO

user9 is this you trying to soft launch or is she just a platonic friend?

user10 "fans" going insane because they can't handle the thought of lando having female friends as well

user11 he's not even tagging anyone omg now i have to scroll through all the people he follows. lando is not making my job easy

(private account)

♡ liked by centralcee, jorjasmith_, landonorris and 637 others

y/n_graham why am i trending on twitter and why is everyone uncovering my childhood

view all 45 comments

landonorris i think this is my fault ⤷ y/n_graham you and your jpg ⤷ landonorris my camera lense is just so mesmerised by your beauty ⤷ y/n_graham your compliments won't get you out of trouble

centralcee i'm literally getting dms asking about you ⤷ y/n_graham i woke up to 15,000 people trying to follow me

jorjasmith_ lando's fans are literally fbi agents ⤷ y/n_graham i'm making so many backup files of my music projects because i'm scared someone will hack into my laptop now

♡ liked by 238,273 others

f1wags Y/N Graham, daughter of Canadian rapper Drake, was photographed by a fan outside the venue in Greece where Lando Norris, her rumoured boyfriend, was playing this weekend. None of the two have confirmed nor deniend the relationship allegations that have been going around for a few months now. An inside source, which attended the party, revealed how the two behaved very intimate with each other.

view all 5,394 comments

user12 girl it's been nearly four months since the rumours started... can one of them just please either confirm or deny them?

user13 at this point i'm just over the whole drama. let them have their privacy i guess

user14 this drama is juicier than when the whole oscar-alpine-mclaren fiasco happened

user15 i'm this close to ripping my hair out why is this rumour been going on for AGES i just want a simple statement already

♡ liked by y/n_graham, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 374,947 others

tagged: y/n_graham, champagnepapi

lando.jpg bonding family time, got to support the father in law ;)

view all 9,294 comments

user16 EXCUSE ME WDYM FATHER IN LAW? is this a joke or real ⤷ y/n_graham we're not married, don't worry ⤷ user17 OMG Y/N MADE HER ACCOUNT PUBLIC JUST NOW

champagnepapi i like the sound of "father in law" ⤷ lando.jpeg i know you would ⤷ y/n_graham no no no

user18 okay from what i've gathered drake and lando are on good terms ⤷ user19 bet that's why drake sponsored mclaren lmao ⤷ y/n_graham no but deadass

user20 y/n fighting for her life in the comments lmaoooo ⤷ y/n_graham in the trenches

[cordeliawhohung]

Hiii! I've just binged mafia Price again, as one would, and now I desperately wanna know their first time together 😍 Was it after dating some time, ot much longer or maybe right away? How did they felt? Nervous I bet, but what was anticipation like? Did he make it a planned occasion, or was it casual? Was it quick rough, or slow and sensual, or something else? Like 🤯🤯🤯 My mind's gonna blow thinking about all these. Give this girl some insight, pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻

ugh i answered an ask a few weeks ago that was sort of similar to this but about them dating and i was trying to find it to link with this post but alas, tumblr search is dog water lmfao. anyway it's been a bit since i've written something proper for him so enjoy a drabble to answer your question (:

mafia!141 masterlist

cw: alcohol, smut, mutually possessive sex, (maybe slight technical dub-con due to the alcohol but both parties are awake and aware i'm just putting this here just in case)

When John got home, he found you in the kitchen.

Quiet music hummed through the speaker on your phone as you worked on serving two big plates of food like you had predicted his arrival. You greeted him with a grin as you gestured to the food in front of you on the island, proud of your work. Its fragrant aroma was mouth watering, almost to the point he found it difficult to think about anything other than eating. Your smile was contagious and John found himself chuckling as he approached the other side of the island.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Dinner, of course," you replied.

John scoffed slightly at his rather poorly worded question and your cheeky response. "Alright, well what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," you said. "You've been at work all day, and I felt like cooking, so..." You paused to pick up one of the plates and held it out for him to take. "Dinner!"

In the last few months that you had been staying with him, you had cooked plenty of times, but never anything quite like that. A part of you felt a little guilty for not being able to show your appreciation as much as you wanted to, for taking you in and keeping a roof over your head, but more often than not he wouldn't allow it. There were few chores he would allow you to do as a guest in his home, and if you wanted to cook or clean for him, you often had to do it under his nose when he wasn't home.

And still, instead of telling you how you didn't have to do all that, how you didn't have to waste your evening cooking a lavish meal, he took it without complaint and allowed you to lead him into the living room. That evening was full of good food, a very expensive wine that you attempted to convince John not to open but he did anyway, and an old slasher film that was more humorous than it was unsettling.

Something was different about that night. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was something else, but you seemed to smile and laugh more than you had for the last few weeks. And you were beautiful. The way the dim glow of the TV illuminated your face as you took a sip of wine, the way you laughed and pointed at the screen when one of the characters died; you were perfect.

"Thank you. For taking care of me," you suddenly spoke up.

John had stared at you for so long he didn't even realize that the movie was over, but you didn't seem to mind his unwavering gaze. Yet he was a bit confused by your sudden comment. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the truth, but he felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Your gratitude is wasted on someone like me," he muttered, eyes refusing to leave your face.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"I'm not a good man."

"I know."

While it wasn't the answer he expected, John was glad you knew that much about him at least. He gave you a breathy laugh as he looked down at the remaining wine left in his glass. The dark red liquid swirled around as he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.

"How do you know?" he questioned, hoping you would indulge him.

"I've always known," you said as if it was obvious. "If you were a good man, you'd be dead by now. Good men don't live long in your line of work."

"So you've known I'm a bad man this whole time?"

The expression on your face contorted and it wasn't long before your hand rested on his arm. He didn't dare look down to where your fingers brushed against his skin because he feared you would retract if he did, like someone who didn't want to get bitten by a dog.

"You're not a bad man," you retorted as if the very thought had offended you.

"How do you know?" John challenged.

"Because you are kind."

In that moment, John swore he had always known you, and maybe he did. He had known you as the chief's daughter when he was a child. He had known you and your laughter as you sat next to him in maths as a teen. You had always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, finding him when he least expected it.

So when you leaned into him, he didn't stop you. And he didn't stop you when your hands rested on his chest, or when your lips pressed against his. In fact, he savored every moment of it. Your skin on his, your teeth sinking into his flesh; it all felt so familiar like your body was the only one he had ever held that way.

It all happened so fast he felt dizzy, but all John knew was that when he saw you laid out naked on his bed there was nothing in the world that would ever take you from him. He couldn't stop the way his lips were drawn to your chest where he kissed a gentle trail between your breasts and down to your navel. He couldn't stop the way his mouth latched onto your cunt like it was the only sustenance he would need for the rest of his life.

And it was the most love you had felt in your entire life. The way he gently pawed at your body not in greed, but because he needed you to be closer, to feel every inch of you. Every moan that left your lips was carefully fished for, and if one thing didn't work he would try another. The way he crooked his fingers inside of you and swiped his tongue over your clit was all done so carefully, only aiming to please you.

When he eventually pulled away from you, got you so worked up that your legs quaked, you wanted to return the favor. Wanted to thank him for taking you in, for treating you as well as he had, but when you tried to sit up his hand firmly kept you pinned against the mattress. He reminded you that you were under his roof. You were his to take care of.

He continued to remind you of that fact with every pump of his cock inside of you. Each thrust had you repeating his words back to him with pitched moans, how he would take care of you, how good he was to you, how you were his to take care of, you were his, you were his. By the time he emptied himself into you with a heavy grunt and a needy kiss, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

After that night, you only slept in his bed, and eventually it wasn't just his bed, but yours too. It happened slowly, and all at once, that he had become yours and you had become his, and yet at the same time, it was like it was never any other way to begin with.

[junesilk]

hiii just saw you were a new account and decided to drop by 🙉 loving the account btww

as for a suggestion, how about some kurapika dating head canons? thank you🫶

DATING HEADCANONS

aka: how the hxh main 4 act in a relationship!

characters: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

gn!reader

kurapika—

The way your relationship started was a slow ordeal. And by that, I mean, it was a gradual shift from friendship to something… more.

You fell first, but he fell harder type of relationship.

It took him a while to realize that what he felt was love, but when he did, he was quick to act.

Sitting you down and having an adult conversation about how he felt was how he confessed.

He’s a soft lover, and protective of you. It can feel a little overbearing at times, but really he’s just trying to keep you safe.

Not the most physical out of the four, but he often has his hand on your waist or holding yours.

It would have been a while into your relationship when he finally relayed what had happened to him as a child, with his clan & all.

He’s very open about everything about himself to you after that. You’d ask him to tell you stories about his family, and he would gladly oblige, avoiding sensitive topics.

His hands would be combing through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, looking up at him as he quietly told you about his mother. His other hand would be tangled in yours, drawing little circles on the back of your hand.

He lives for those hushed moments with you, tangled in sheets as he memorizes the details of your face, just talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

leorio—

He’s a very sexual lover in my opinion, so you’d have to be okay with that before being in a relationship with him.

He’d probably confess his love to you on a whim, probably when you’re least expecting it. He fell first and harder, that’s just the way he is.

Genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and he treats you like it too.

Takes you on romantic, candlelit dinners at least once a month. An allotted day, in which he makes sure you’re free from work or any distractions, for the two of you to get dressed up and go out.

He’d be insistent that he needed to be in your arms in order to go to sleep. He claims he can’t sleep without you, but you’d occasionally find him with his head on his desk, glasses lazily strewn aside while soft snores leave his lips.

Loves it when you tie his tie. He knows how to do it himself, yes, this is true. But when your hands diligently and softly pull the fabric together around his neck, he falls even deeper in love with you.

Listens to jazz music. I will die on this hill. Pulls you into his arms when you’re trying to make dinner, and sways with you to the sound of the song playing in the background.

killua—

His favorite pastime is being with you, playing videos games. It doesn’t matter what, even better if it’s some low-quality game for duos. It’s endearing how competitive he gets, jokingly betting that he could finish the game so much faster than you could.

His fashion sense infects your fashion sense, and before long, you’re wearing his clothes. Loves when the two of you wear matching outfits, or even just similar styles. Out in public, at home, wherever you are.

Dates with him usually reside in arcades, malls, or wherever you like to go. He never lets you pay for anything, insisting that it’s nothing, even if the sum is well into the thousands.

Sharing earbuds with him is also one of his favorite things to do. You two have a shared playlist of all of the songs you like. After a few months, you notice how he has begun adding songs he thinks you’d like, and you had been adding songs you think he would like.

Buy him candy, and he will serve his heart to you on a platter. The first time you bought him those beloved chocolate robots he had loved so much, he seriously considered marrying you. Only to be dismayed when he realized that people his age shouldn’t be getting married.

He’s very sarcastic. You’ll have to put up with some downright sassy responses if you want to be in a relationship with him.

Prefers texting over calling if you’re long distance.

gon—

He radiates energy and loves to be doing something at all hours of the day. This can be good or bad depending on the type of person you are, as he adores going on hikes and traveling with you.

Likes it when you brush his hair. He doesn’t know what exactly about it he likes, but he finds himself leaning in to your touch when you card your fingers over his scalp.

Picnic dates for life. Just being outdoors with food and his partner, he could die of happiness.

Wears earth-toned clothing. You find yourself stealing his tank tops most often, because he always buys pure cotton clothes. They’re just comfier, he argues, and not at allll because he loves how they cling to your scent after you wear them.

Isn’t on his phone very much. You’ll text him asking what you think you should wear that day, and he might respond two days later with an answer. It’s frustrating sometimes, but being with him is like a breath of fresh air from such an online world.

Always loses at board games. No matter what game, from Monopoly to Life, he just can’t fully grasp the rules. Hey, at least that means you always win.

His body naturally runs really warm, so you’ll wake up in the mornings find all of the blankets are on the floor. You don’t really need them when you’re stuck to him like legos when you’re cuddling at night.

guys…….. two weeks turned into an entire month and a half IM SORRRYYYY. anyways i keep getting requests for singular characters and i always turn it in to requests for all four because honestly there’s not enough content out there for characters like leorio and gon and they deserve love too.

as always, likes and reblogs appreciated but not necessary!

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Ari Levinson has a soft spot for one of his fans.

prompts. | Ari Levinson + Camboy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + Innocence, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!camboy!Ari Levinson x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, camboy, age gap, stalking, implied somnophilia, implied breaking and entering, innocence kink, corruption kink, dirty talk, mild dumbification, degradation, praise, Daddy kink, smut, male masturbation, jerking off into panties, panty sniffing, reader is of age, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

When you flip open your laptop, butterflies fill your stomach. Today’s the day—the day you’ll treat yourself. Your friends insisted on it, claiming you work yourself to the bone and never have fun.

They were the ones that urged you to join the salacious streaming site. They made the account for you and left you with smirks on their faces, hoping to hear all about your adventures. You’ve never told them a thing about it, claiming you didn’t like it.

But the truth is that you love it—one streamer, in particular. His name is Ari, but he insists you call him Daddy. When he speaks, it’s as if he’s targeting you specifically. You watch his streams in a trance, practically hypnotized by his movements and words.

You have no idea what he’s doing, but every bit makes you have tingles down there. They get so intense that you just wish they would disappear, but you’re unsure how to alleviate the feeling. 

You enter Ari’s stream with a goal in mind—you’ll do a private session. Perhaps you’re a little in over your head, too shy in comparison to his envious confidence. But it’s like something you have to get out of your system, an idea that just won’t stop haunting you. 

Opening the private chat, you send the streamer your request as he casually speaks with a few regulars. When you press the deliver button, along with your hopefully-tempting amount, you squeeze your eyes shut and squeal. A small part of you wants to take it all back now, but you can’t. It’s too late. What’s done is done.

You can hear his familiar baritone, a chuckle that warms your blood. Then, the sound of keys clacking. 

Hi, princess. That’s a pretty generous offer, thank you. I’ll meet you there ;) xx Daddy.

And with that, you receive an invitation. You click it right away, missing the farewell he bids the rest of his followers and their pleas for him to stay back. Ari ignores them. 

You anxiously wait in the new stream, noticing it isn’t recording like his usual ones. He would upload those for whoever missed them, and you’d make sure to catch up on it all. 

Suddenly, Ari enters, and you take in the sight of him. He’s shirtless, and his hair is a bit messy yet still put together, as though he’s run his fingers through the tendrils repeatedly. You can see the chest hair and his well-built body. You ogle the older man shamelessly.

“Hey, sweetie pie,” he greets, setting a few things down. You unmute yourself. “H– Hi,” you squeak out, cringing at your voice. But Ari smiles as if he’s heard a beautiful piece of music. “Thank you for the offer, baby. You made Daddy real happy,” he says sincerely. 

“O- Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” you force out. His attention on you makes you feel like you’re being inspected under a microscope, naked and vulnerable. “Can I see you, honey? I bet you’re gorgeous,” Ari hums, and you bite your lip.

You consider it. Why not? Your friends would be proud of you stepping out of your shell for once.

You turn your camera on and give him a meek smile as he whistles, admiring your beautiful face. You’re bashful under his wordless praise. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Do you like it when Daddy tells you what to do?” Ari questions. 

Nodding, you can’t stop grinning. It’s mostly out of nerves but also the work of Ari’s charm on you. You’ve never seen him be this friendly to some of his more loyal customers. The idea of being special—the exception—makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I bet you do. Just an obedient little pet, always ready to listen to her Daddy,” he coos, and you fiddle with the lace of your nightie. “How about you lay back a bit, honey. Let me see those tits,” he urges, and your body listens to him.

You do what Ari says without a second thought. You feel those tingles in your pussy again and a warmth that fills you up. “Attagirl. So fuckin’ sexy…” Ari mutters, moving his camera so that you can see his dick.

It’s large and a flushed colour, aching for you—and only you—to touch it. He’s thick and long, with heavy balls begging to be emptied. His tip leaks with pre-cum, and it’s a sight to behold.

You find that your mouth is watering a bit. “Fuck, you like Daddy’s dick, baby? I can see how empty that brain is—just lookin’ at it, and you go dumb,” he chuckles. 

Ari’s words are a bit mean, but you’re not insulted by them. No, in fact, you can feel your clit throbbing. You’ve never felt this way before—at least, not so intensely. 

You let out a whimper, and Ari pouts at you. “Aw, is your pussy all tingly, baby?” he asks, and you nod your head. How does he know? 

“It’s okay. Daddy’ll fix it soon,” he promises, wrapping one of his big hands on his cock. Ari begins to stroke himself before pulling away, cursing under his breath.

“Look at this, princess,” he demands, and you watch his movements intently. He has a piece of pink fabric in his hands, and it looks awfully familiar. 

There is lace trimming around it with a bow at the top that is a darker shade. Your missing pair of panties. 

You haven’t seen them since yesterday morning when you threw them in the laundry basket before rushing to work. 

You hold back a gasp, though. It must be a coincidence, surely.

“Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you,” Ari questions. “V– Very pretty, Daddy,” you quietly agree. He gives you a crooked smile before bringing the underwear to his face, inhaling deeply. Ari lets out a deep groan, chest rumbling.

“You smell so sweet,” he whispers. Ari keeps holding the panties and lowers his hand to his dick, jerking off and moaning your name, although you’ve never told him it. But your desperation is strong enough for you to ignore his blunder. “Shit, I can’t wait to teach you how to be my little slut.”

You keep whimpering and whining, rubbing your thighs together. You place your hands over your core and press down, achieving some relief, but it isn’t enough. 

To your surprise, you’ve soaked through your panties. This always happens when you attend one of Ari's streams or have an extremely vivid dream about him. 

“Gonna mould your pussy to fit my cock—stretch you out until you’re begging me to fuck you,” Ari groans, picking up the pace on his member. “Just an innocent little baby who needs her Daddy, hm?” he coos, and his movements become sloppy.

Ari’s breath becomes ragged, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the man. Your mouth parts a bit in awe when he reaches his climax, his cum spurting and dirtying the panties. The fabric collects his spend, and his chest rises and falls, head tilted back slightly as he curses. 

The older man eventually comes down from his high and smirks at the camera, staring directly into your soul. Ari loves the mild pout you have on your face—it’s just like when you’re sleeping at night, moaning his name as he fights back the urge to ruin you. But he will, one day. He has to. 

[angelickisscs]

poolside autographs ~ jude bellingham series (ongoing)

‧₊˚ ୨ ୧ ˚₊ masterlist ~ forgotten paradise (part 1)

summary: Two hearts once intertwined find one another during a family holiday but will the ever-growing distance that they set continue to grow or will one arise to the challenge that is keeping them together?

authors note ~ this is way too long to proofread ngl so i am very sorry if there are any mistakes 😭😭

THE GOLDEN SUN shone brightly in the crisp summer sky as it casted its warmth across your bare shoulders in a gentle, comforting breath. A cerulean blue washed against the vast canvas above, puffs of clouds slowly disappearing inwards.

“And we can take a nice, deep breath.” Your dad announced as though it were an achievement to even make it to the resort, his body rising and falling rhythmically.

 You stood and watched him as the bag you had packed earlier that morning weighed down your arm. It reprimanded you harshly, allowing you no breaks between the minutes that you had already been holding it.

“Dad, can we just go inside?” Your brother asked, his voice the living embodiment of boring. In response, your dad could only laugh. He beckoned you all forward, leading the way towards the vast glass doors that stood only a mere two feet away.

They opened hastily, letting out a small ring as you all entered through them. The cooling air-con that sat strategically placed above the door hit you in the face, sliding down throughout the rest of your body.

The lobby was mostly empty despite the number of plants that were growing throughout. It was a battle to lead your uncooperative suitcase past them. Somehow, it always managed to end up gripped to a vase or pot that held the greenery, refusing to let go as though the two objects had managed to befriend one another in a matter of seconds.

Your family allowed you to struggle, each wandering up to the desk in front so they could gather the room cards. A brief conversation with the receptionist about how ‘wonderfully beautiful’ the resort was, allowed you to catch up to them in time to politely take yours from the unfortunate woman.

She had managed to strike up the more talkative side of your father. The conversation ranged from the beginning sentence to surrounding activities to undoable work hours. Your mother seemed to have enough as she excused him from the conversation, slowly but surely dragging him away by his closest shoulder.

“How many ‘friends’ do you think he’s going to make on this trip?” Your brother, Oliver, asked with a cheeky grin coating his lips. “I’ll bet you a fiver it’ll be four.”

“Four? I’ll go with seven.” You responded as you stepped into the lift, sneakily shaking one another’s hands in an abrupt agreement to the bet you had just made.

Your mum leaned back from where she was standing so her head could land up in between the pair of you.

“Too high. Bound to only be two.”

Her voice could hardly consider itself as a whisper, its noise level exceeding the limit as to how loud it could be. Though your dad’s humming to the music that surrounded the death-trap of a mechanism seemed to be able to drown it out enough.

You scoffed in response. She had a history of underestimating her own husband in these kinds of circumstances and you could only hope that this would be another instance to add to the failure of a streak.

With a ping, you were all ushered out of the lift. There was a very brief conversation on where you all would next meet, Oliver’s hurry to get into his room being the main reason for that. Your dad did not want you roaming around an unfamiliar environment by yourself, no matter how peaceful it was, so you instead opted to meet back outside the lift.

It was a stronger relief than you had expected when you had finally pushed the keycard against the slot in the door, pushing the door open with your free shoulder. You abandoned your carry on and suitcase in an instance, banishing them to the corner of the room. The comfiness of the bed was loudly calling your name and you weren’t one to ignore someone nor something so in need of your approval.

You allowed yourself few moments of rest to gather whatever energy you had left over. There was not a multitude of it, but it would have to do. Kicking your legs into the air, you threw yourself upwards into a standing position so you could approach your suitcase, making the silly decision to unpack later when you came upstairs to get ready for dinner.

A bikini lead folded neatly atop of multiple towels, its burgundy colouring having to do for now. You quickly removed the clothes you had worn during the flight, replacing them with said bikini and a coverup just in time to answer the sound of a fist pounding against the unfortunate slab of wood that was your door.

“Hurry up then!” Said Oliver when you had made it to your door, his impatient eyes following you as you scrambled to collect everything you may need for those hours around the pool.

Your parents were both ready, dressed in a matching colour of swimwear, the same pair of sunglasses resting atop of their heads. They had managed to time the arrival of the lift perfectly, leaving no more waiting for your brother and you than necessary.

Everyone stayed slightly throughout the short ride. There was no reason for any form of conversation, each saving that for later in the day when the need placed itself in front of you.

Unsurprisingly, the lift had not lengthened its short arrival on the ground floor. You were the first to exit, a game of follow the leader ensuing so you could arrive at the poolside in one piece.

The foreign sun was soon to introduce itself to your skin, the heat that radiated off it being unlike any that you had previously felt. It snaked through your coverup, surpassing any defence that your sunscreen had placed, with ease. You all chose a row of five with your mother on the farthest end so she could be next to you.

Your dad was the one who lost the coin-toss, swiftly forced to collect you each a drink. Though, Oliver opted out of having one instead b-lining straight towards the pool just like he did when he was only eight years younger.

A certain peace encapsulated all of you, the sound of laughter carrying from the families around as the wind passed through all of them, dancing within the palm trees that sat firmly in their allocated areas.

“Well, that’s number one.” Your mum commented, turning her head just in time to catch your confused eyes so she could point to what she was referring too.

You laughed lightly at the sight that met you, your social dad already managing to abandon his prior mission and instead talking to a man he had sat next to at the open bar.

“Only one more to go for you then.” You reminded her before shuffling around slightly to get more comfortable.

She sighed lightly at what you said, “Is it too late to change my bet?”

You didn’t bother to use your words but rather to just slowly nod. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could make out her lightly hitting her leg in a makeshift punishment.

Whispering to herself, your mother lead back down on the sun lounger, feigning a disinterest at what was happening around her. She had pushed her sunglasses up over her eyes, the black coating making it so you could not see where she was looking, no matter how close you were to her.

There was an interest as to what she had managed to notice now so you began your own investigation. Dragging your eyes across the pool area to look for the suspect that had caught her attention, you questioning did not linger for a long time. A familiar set of brunette hair emerged out of the pool, his previously worn cap in hand.

He approached you with swift and sure movements, “I need you to protect this with your life.”

Your mother, who had become attuned to his antics, took the cap from his hands, placing it at her side. Oliver threw her a thumbs up before he went back to whatever he was doing beforehand.

The time passed by quickly, your body succumbing to exhaustion not soon after your brothers confusing request. Your mum had not fully given up when she woke you up, trying to ask you once again what she had prior to catch you out but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t tried before.

She had collected each of you one by one, your dad being the first victim and you the last. Both the men in your small group had become surprisingly hungry during the activities they had decided to do. It left you to realise you had never received that diet coke you had requested, leaving a slight resentment in your dry mouth.

“Have fun with your friend?” Your mum asked her husband, leaving a suggestion for him to add his name into the last slot of the sentence.

“Mark.” Your dad corrected, placing an arm over her shoulder. “And yes, he is genuinely nice. He has two kids as well, same age and everything.”

The doors once again opened with a loud ping, allowing everyone to leave with slow and light steps, the heat draining whatever you all had left.

You each excused yourselves to your rooms, a time limit still managing to be set at how long you had to get ready. Shaking your head as you unlocked your door, gathering your shower supplies from your suitcases before heading straight for the bathroom. You stripped off out of your bikini, making sure to throw your freshly washed hair into a bun as you turned the water onto cold, allowing it to fall over your body and wake you up slightly.

It was only a brief shower, doing all the necessary hygiene routines before reaching out to turn off the shower and grab a towel.

Having made the silly decision not to unpack earlier on, a mess slowly gathered in your room as you attempted to neatly sift through to find an acceptable outfit. It conveniently led at the very bottom of the suitcase; a strategy you had previously used that had ended up not going in your favour despite your efforts for it too. You had a longer than average history of being a bad packer that overestimated the amount of energy you would have upon arriving at your location. An unideal duo.

You sat at your desk chair with your outfit on, a small beauty blender in hand as you applied the concealer in the necessary places. There wasn’t a need to do makeup at once due to the one easy activity that you were doing so you chose to keep it light and easy.

For once, you seemed to get your time keeping in check. No one had come banging on your door by the time you were ready, leaving you to dawdle as you went through your bag to check you needed anything.

Your brother leant against the wall beside your room when you exited, phone in hand.

“This holiday is awesome. I met my idol today.” He whispered to you when he noticed your presence.

“Oh yeah? Did you fangirl?” You asked with a mischievous tone that was meant to mock him, but he was too much of a way through cloud nine to have the ability to notice that.

Oliver moved his head from side to side, deciding on his answer. “Slightly. Didn’t recognise him at first but when I did, I built up the courage to talk to him and it was great. Played a bit of water-polo with them and everything.”

“Is that the Alexander guy?”

His face dropped at your words, not one attempt to hide the strong snarl on his face succeeding, “Alexander guy? Seriously?”

“I don’t know football.” You defended with a shoulder raise leaving him to roll his eyes.

“No. It was someone else you wouldn’t know.” Oliver corrected. “We can count mum out of the bet, right?”

He fiddled around with putting his phone away in his pocket as he spoke, lowering his tone at the small chance that you dad had decided on hiding out to scare the pair of you.

“Of course.” You responded with an ‘obviously’ look which this time he had managed to notice though you did lay it on thicker than what you would usually prefer to do.

Oliver was about to give you a rude response when your parents called the both of you over, blissfully ignorant as to whatever was going on. They pressed the button to wait for the lift, striking up a conversation as to what might be best to do tomorrow.

The restaurant was a larger walk away than you all had anticipated when you had finally gotten downstairs. You walked what felt like all the hotel’s property before you finally arrived at the desired location. The sound of multiple conversations happening at one echoing throughout your ears. Though it was beginning to step back from its leading position, the sun’s heat lingered throughout the air, latching to your bare flesh as you walked through it in attempt to find a free table. The artificial light waved towards you, reflecting off every window that you passed, its brightness making you feel as though you would need sunglasses to get through this dinner.

A table of six was clear in front of you, allowing you to get off your feet, the pain beginning to get worse the more you walked. Despite being busy, the restaurant was yet to be full to its capacity, though the way people scattered themselves all over the place gave the image that it was.

Taking your seats, everyone picked up their own menu, decisively dragging their eyes across the busy piece of laminated paper. Discussions ensued about if anyone would be willing to share anything, everyone taking turns to list out their options. Your mum and you decided upon getting a sharing platter, neither of you particularly hungry.

The waiter soon made his rounds to your table, politely introducing himself being writing down your orders in his black, tarnished notepad.

Steady conversation ensued for the rest of the night, someone always having an opinion to share or a new topic to branch of off.

It was dark by the time you left on full stomachs; the majority of the restaurant’s guests having emptied out as well. The walkway lit with more soothing lighting, the yellow tone inciting tranquillity as birds sung their final song of the day.

Heels moved in harmony with one another, whispered conversations shared between one another as you all walked.

“Mark invited us to join him for a couple drinks at the pool, who feels like coming?” Your dad offered up, a chorus of agreement coming from the rest of your family. It wasn’t ideal for you to be doing this but since everyone else had already decided upon going, you left yourself with no choice but to go.

You allowed him to show you the way around once everyone had got going again. Your strides were steady, passing people with a friendly smile as you began to approach the pool once again. It was completely empty, towels still lead on sun loungers, most simply thrown on top and others folded.

The moon shone brightly, the almost full appearance it boasted being far too beautiful to not take a second to appreciate. A gentle wind still blew past your shoulders, forcing the heat that claimed its position in the air, into your already boiling body.

Flowers surrounded the edge of the resort in unity, insignificant amounts beginning to bloom and other having reached their time but all managing to stay equally as beautiful. Healthy grass filled every gap needed, helping to make the walkway look fuller.

Each one of you expressed your confusion as to where this supposed planned meet up was taking place though a short walk soon answered your silent questioning.

Music spilled out from speakers that positioned themselves perfectly around the bar to cause the least disturbance. Table came in few though most came empty. Instead, people gathered around the barrels that had barstools pushed up against them. Most opted not to use the provided branded coasters, their cold pints of beer placed rebelliously against the wooden top.

“There you are!” The man that was supposedly Mark walked up to your dad, a fist-bump taking place between the pair. “Thought you might have opted out of coming.”

“Never mate. I don’t turn down an enjoyable time.” Your dad laughed along with him. “This is the family.”

He introduced you all one by one, pointing to make it certain as to who he was talking about. You waved when it was your turn to, a small smile formed of regret making its way onto your face.

“Nice to meet you all.” Mark said, turning his body over to where his wife and sons sat. Or at least that’s what he said, your vision unable to do its only job due to your mum standing directly in front of you.

Not that you minded, the quicker you could get out of there the better.

There was no other chance given, however. Your mothers firm grip that enclosed your wrist always keeping you right by her side. She had dragged you over to the table before you could count to ten to complete the first deep breath you were having to take.

Your brother and his newly made friend recognised one another in an instance, taking themselves elsewhere to your and his mum’s displeasure. They called out a demand of ‘staying close’ though it was to no usage, the effort to do that wasting itself within a matter of seconds.

That seemed to make you mum far more hyperaware of your presence, her hand that held your wrist dragging you down into the seat next to her as everyone got acquainted.

“Sweetheart, do you want anything to drink?” Your dad asked you, taking a break from his walking away. Mark was steps ahead, not realising your fathers lack of presence.

You shook your head, “I’m not going to stay long so no thank you.”

Feeling your mums’ eyes linger on you in question, you turned to look at Denise. Her and your mum were partway through a conversation, your parent’s ability to be social being a skill you had not inherited nor developed.

“My Jude was just the same but if you look at him now, you would never be able to tell.” Denise stated, her hands moving around everywhere to emphasise her unknown point.

The singular usage of his name was enough for you heart to begin working harder, oxygen catching itself inside of your throat. It was a conditioned response that you had picked up many months ago, but it was hard not to feel silly at the mere coincidence that managed to weasel itself to directly in your eyeline.

“Sorry, forgive me. Is that your oldest?” Your mum questioned, familiarising herself with the bloodline of this new family.

Denise cracked a smile, “Yes. He should be here any minute now, he just had to take a call.”

Words seemed to blur around the edge of your consciousness for the minutes that passed, none of your interest managing to fixate onto the new topic the conversation had taken on.

Yet again, your father was yet to make a return. Though when you heard a loud roar travel through the crowd, it seemed to follow with hours before in the fact that it was no surprise. He had managed to find a television with the latest rugby match on and there was no method of drawing him away from it that any of your family had learned.

“Sorry about that. Oh.”

That voice. That same voice that was so deeply connected to the name.

No choices other than paralysing any movement your body could make could be handed to you, your eyes not daring to look up from their decided position whilst your arms seized with every muscle grabbing a hold of their closest friend.

It was an indescribable feeling that injected itself into your icy veins. One that you had never been subjected to. Your body seemed to become unfamiliar with the very organs that had been inside of you your whole life, disconnecting your brain from everything it could.

“Ah, Jude! There you are.” Denice began, the sound of wood creaking crawling throughout the bones that sat in your body. “This is Debbie and her daughter y/n.”

There wasn’t anything to shock you more that the fact that months of demanding work to just move on from him and his featherlight touch could undo itself with such little effort. A quick release knot that hadn’t even been pulled on before it began unravelling.

A short jab to the flesh that sat on the arm to your right brought you out of the tsunami wreaking havoc onto your mind.

“Nice to meet you.” He had a small voice crack, clearing it with a short cough of his throat. “Both.”

Looking up through the hoods of your eyelids, the skin around your nail falling victim to your painful habit, you mustered a miniature lifting of the sides of your lips to seem polite enough.

His eyes firmly watched you, for once not a care in the world as to who could possibly see.

The final word he spoke encouraged itself to hold the power of erasing your history, at least to your families. The same ones that both of you had sworn to meet countless times. Though, unfortunately for Jude, nothing nor no one, not even him, could ever deal with the weight of magically pushing away the indifference that lingered heavily between the pair of you.

Re-finding your words, you pushed yourself up from the chair that you sat him, your eyeline cutting out the man that stood on the side of the table.

“I’m going to head up.”

A panic set through Jude. That very same emotion bearing the power of his next actions. He could offer to walk you up to your room, he wanted to offer that. The words failed at exiting out of his throat, claiming a form of stage fright had developed.

He watched helplessly as everyone but him bid you a goodnight. His skin that concealed him so heavily began to heat up, his eyes being the only part of him that claimed its freedom.

They continued to trail you as you walked down towards the resort though his legs refused to cooperate.

“Are you sitting down?” Denise looked at her son suspiciously, her lips forming a strict straight line.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

[starryeyedjanai]

bet.

steddie | 2.8k

read on ao3

Happy Birthday @wynnyfryd 🥰🥰🥰 I've had this idea floating around in my brain for a while now and seeing it was your birthday prompted me to finish it 💕

---

It's his first time in Indianapolis as an out bisexual, so of course Robin takes him to a gay club - to experience the drag queens and to see other queer people having fun, she says.

It's a little overwhelming, the bright lights and the music and the people. But he's having a great time, people watching and drinking virgin daiquiris and talking with Robin.

She's been here before - she came with Vickie when they were still together one weekend and they had a blast. So when Steve figured his sexuality shit out and came out to her, this was the first place she wanted to take him.

Now, he can see why. It's a haven of sorts. Gay men dancing together and kissing each other, gay women getting cozy in the booths, drag queen and drag kings about. He hasn't felt like he's belonged somewhere in a long time, but it kind of feels like he belongs here. The atmosphere is welcoming and kind.

They dance a little before everything gets overwhelming and then they find an empty booth to sit down and sip at their drinks in.

Robin keeps trying to encourage him to find someone to kiss so that they can call this night a success, but he keeps telling her that no one has caught his eye. And it's kind of true. He's seen some men that he thinks might be his type, but they're all paired up with men who look nothing like Steve. Even then, the few people that have caught his eye weren't right, somehow.

He keeps holding out, hoping to find someone that makes his heart skip a beat, or whatever the appropriate cliche for a gay club is.

And it. It happens.

He glances over at the bar as he's taking the last few sips of his drink, thinking about if he wants to brave the crowd at the bar, when he sees him.

His heart doesn't skip a beat, but he knows as soon as he lays eyes on him that he wants him. He's beautiful - and intimidating.

He's sitting facing away from the bar with his legs splayed open, ripped jeans revealing what looks like fishnet stockings underneath them. He's wearing a tank top that's showing off his many tattoos and Steve is struck with the urge to know what they taste like. His combat boots are clunky and could seriously kick someone's ass if they messed with him. His wavy hair is half tied up, a messy ponytail holding his hair out of his face, but the bottom half is freely falling past his shoulders.

He kind of feels like he's been bit by the love bug - he can't take his eyes off him.

He knows Robin is saying something to him, but he can't even hear it. It's all just background noise. He doesn't think he's ever been so captivated by someone before. He wants to put his mouth on him.

"Steve? Oh my god, stop ignoring me!" Robin says and snaps her fingers in front of his face, pulling him from his reverie. He looks over at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, Robbie," he says, looking back over at the guy briefly and yep, he's still just as hot as the first time he looked.

"What was that? Did you see someone you like? You looked like you blacked out for a minute there," she says, a smirk pulling at her lips.

He rolls his eyes. Of course she already knows - his type is people that look like they could stomp on him and he'd say thanks. "Black tank top, ripped jeans, at the bar. I think I'm in love," he says with a sigh. He's way too intimidated to go over there.

She squeals in his ear and says, "This is so exciting! You have to go kiss him now."

"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not just gonna go up to a stranger and ask if he'll be my first gay kiss."

"And why not?" she asks, stirring her drink.

"Because that's insane," he says. "He's probably already got someone. He's, he's gorgeous. There's no way he's here alone." It's a shame, but it's probably true - he's way too good looking to be here alone.

"There's only one way to find out," Robin says. She leans forward and whispers in his ear, a challenge of sorts.

"You can't be serious," he says to her, questioning his own sanity for even entertaining her for one second.

She leans back in and whispers more into his ear and he groans.

"You're diabolical," he tells her, pulling back to smack a kiss on her forehead. He stands up and takes a deep breath before marching over to the bar. He can't believe he's doing this.

He marches right up to the guy and immediately every word in his vocabulary is gone. He's so fucking pretty.

"Um. Uh, hi," he says, stupidly.

The guy bites his lip and grins at him. He says, "Hi," back to him and Steve is literally going to die, he thinks. He couldn't see it from across the club before, but this guy has a lip piercing, and Steve wants to know what it feels like against his mouth so fucking bad.

"I need you to kiss me," he blurts out, trying not to cringe.

"You need me to, to kiss you?" the guy asks, and this was a bad idea, the worst idea Robin's ever had. There's no way he's going to agree to this.

"So, my friend-" he stops, looking back at Robin - she waves at them. He's trying so hard not to blush as he turns back to the guy and says, "She bet me that I couldn't get a guy to kiss me since it's my first time here. So I was wondering if you would kiss me, so I can win the bet." He's steeling himself for rejection, for this guy to tell him to fuck off or maybe have mercy and let him down gently by telling him he's taken.

But he just smiles, tilting his head at Steve. "Why me?"

"Hmm?" Steve asks.

"Why me?" the guy asks again. "Out of all the guys here, you picked me. Why?"

Steve sputters for a second. "You, I mean. You have to know how you look, right? Like, you're gorgeous."

He grins again, tonguing at his lip ring and Steve is so down bad for him, it's actually insane. "Okay," he says. "I'll accept that answer. Now, if you get your kiss, you win your bet, but what's in it for me?"

Steve is hoping that if he's still talking to him, that means he actually has a shot. He's feeling dizzy with how much he wants to kiss him. He really fucking hopes he can kiss him.

He says, "A kiss?" with what he hopes is a charming - and not at all maniacal - grin.

The guy snorts. Rude. He snorts at Steve and says, "I think I'll need a little more that that, don't you think, sweetheart?"

Steve nods dumbly, says, "I'll split my winnings with you. Would that work?"

He's not expecting it to work, is the thing. He doesn't expect him to say yes.

Which is why he's so surprised when he reaches out and tugs Steve closer by the collar of his shirt. He did not know being yanked around was his thing, but apparently it is because good god.

"That works for me," the guy says, eyes going molten as he looks at Steve.

He can't believe that worked. Holy shit.

He's. He's nervous, he realizes. He's had a lot of first kisses, been on many first dates that ended in him kissing someone unfamiliar. But this is nerve-wracking for him in a way it hasn't been before.

He lets the guy pull him in further by his collar, lets him control when the kiss happens.

The first press of their lips has Steve sighing and opening his mouth slightly, wanting more, wanting to taste him. He kisses him, lets himself be kissed really. He opens his mouth more when a tongue snakes out and presses into his mouth.

Steve's hands come up to pull him closer, to pull - fuck, he doesn't even know his name, yet. He's doing this all wrong. He meant to get his name before shoving his tongue down his throat.

But it's good, the feeling of soft lips pressed against his, the cold metal of his piercing pressing against his mouth, his tongue stroking over Steve's in a way that makes him wish they were alone, wish they weren't here surrounding by all these people. He wants to kiss him and keep kissing him until the breath runs out of his lungs. He wants to put his hands on him, to dip his fingers into the rips in his jeans and feel the rough fishnets against his fingertips.

He pulls his mouth away to gasp out, "What's your name?" because he needs to know, needs to have some connection, some thread to hold onto, to grasp as they're kissing.

"Eddie," he whispers against Steve's mouth. "What's yours?" Eddie asks. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

"Steve," he says before pressing his mouth against Eddie's again. He wants to kiss him forever. He never wants to stop. He wants Eddie to keep licking into his mouth like he owns it until the bartender yells out that it's last call. He wants Eddie to keep holding him like this until Robin drags him away as they turn the lights on in the club to kick everyone out. He wants, he wants, he wants.

He gets a hand tangled in Eddie's hair and gets their heads tilted right so that they can lick deeper into each other's mouths. It's burning him up inside, the way their tongues are sliding together, the way Eddie's licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue like he's trying to taste the daiquiri he was drinking earlier.

Eddie tastes like tobacco and something sweet, like he was drinking something sweet before Steve came up to him too. God, Steve wants to know everything about him - what's his go-to drink order, does he smoke, does he prefer beer over mixed drinks, is he seeing anyone, please don't be seeing anyone, god.

He feels desperate, he feels out of control. He wants Eddie to take him apart like he's never wanted anything else in his life. He wants those hands on him, wants to feel the rings on his fingers pressing marks into his skin. He want his hands gripping his hips, sliding down and touching him. He doesn't think he's ever wanted like this.

The only reason they break apart is because someone's elbow ends up in Steve's back and he ends up pushed further into the crease of Eddie's thigh. He feels him hard against him and he knows Eddie can feel how hard he is too. Fuck, it's like everything else faded away when Eddie's mouth was on his, but now that they're not kissing, he's suddenly achingly aware that he's hard in his incredibly tight pants after making out with Eddie for god knows how long.

His face is probably red and sweaty, but Eddie's still looking at him like he wants him and god, does he want him back.

But he pulls back a little, puts some space between their hips because he quite literally can't ditch Robin here go hook up with Eddie, no matter how much he wants to.

He bites his lip and pulls his hand back, the one that was tangled in Eddie's long hair. He puts it on Eddie's chest and asks, "Was that okay?" because he thinks he knows the answer, but it never hurts to hear it.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and says, "Was that okay, he asks. Sweetheart, I think you and I both know that was something on a completely different realm from just okay."

If Steve wasn't blushing before, he definitely is now. He says, "Good, good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

Eddie leans close like he's going to kiss him again. He brushes his lips against Steve's in a dry press - barely a kiss, but it has Steve aching all the same anyway. He drags his mouth along his jaw, just mouthing at it, and it's the hottest thing Steve's ever felt.

He whispers in Steve's ear, "Your friend is trying really hard to get your attention right now," and that pulls Steve right back down to earth.

He pulls away again and turns around to see Robin waving her arms at him. He puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows at her. She waves her hand at him, beckoning him back to their table so he holds up a finger to tell her to hold the fuck on.

He turns back around and says, "I think I'm being summoned. As much as I want to stay and as much as I, like, desperately want to keep kissing you, I should get back to my friend."

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the bar and Steve can't help the way his eyes sweep over him again. Eddie's smirking when he looks back up at him.

"That's fair," Eddie says. "So, what did we win?"

Steve makes a questioning sound, before he remembers what Eddie's talking about. He sheepishly brings a hand up to swipe his hair out of his face where its begun to stick to his forehead. "Oh, uh, about that. There never really was a bet."

"Really?" Eddie asks, leaning forward again into Steve space, like that's the most interesting thing he's heard all night.

Steve shakes his head. "I promised half of the winnings, but the winnings are zero, so half of zero is still zero, you know?"

Eddie grins at him and says, "You're kind of devious, you know that? Here I was, thinking I'd get a prize at the end of that kiss."

"Sorry for getting your hopes up, but I mean, it was a good kiss, right?" Steve asks, boldly leaning forward to press his mouth against Eddie's again. Eddie lets him, lets Steve kiss him, softer than before. Before it was all new and exciting and hot, and it still is, but this kiss is tender, pulling a gasp from Steve's lips when they separate.

"It was a good kiss," Eddie agrees, pecking him on the lips again, soft and sweet.

"Can I have your number?" Steve asks, trying to be brave for once. He got Eddie to kiss him, even if it was under less than truthful circumstances, but he hopes it was good enough to warrant a call back.

"Your friend, is she seeing anyone?" Eddie asks, and Steve's head is kind of spinning at the redirection there.

"She and her girlfriend broke up a couple months ago. Why?" he asks, wondering where this is going. If this guy is actually somehow straight and only kissed him to get with Robin, Steve's gonna lose it.

"I'll tell you what, if you can convince your friend to kiss my friend, you can have my number," Eddie says, gesturing to the girl that's been sitting next to him at the bar this entire time.

And- oh. Oh god, he's embarrassed.

Has she just been awkwardly sitting there while Eddie made out with him? He was half a second away from dry humping Eddie and his friend was sitting there patiently waiting for them to stop. That's embarrassing.

She's cute - she's got this whole cheery, bubblegum vibe to her that didn't make Steve glance twice at her once he had his eyes set on Eddie because the two of them are kind of polar opposites. He didn't think they were here together.

His eyes shift back and forth between them and she waggles her fingers at him in a wave, smirking at his caught out look.

"Chrissy," she says, sticking out her hand to shake Steve's. He's kind of intimidated by her too, but he's got to hand it to her - he doesn't think even Robin would sit through him making out with someone right next to her. He guesses he does kind of owe it to both her and Robin. He and Eddie were making out for a while.

"Steve," he says, lamely. "Sorry for making out with your friend right next to you. Um, I'm gonna go grab Robin now."

They both watch him as he leaves, which makes his skin prickle and his heartbeat speed up. He makes a beeline back to Robin and lets her coo at him for a minute about having his first gay kiss.

She's talking a mile a minute asking about how it was, if he got his number, when Steve interrupts her.

"Bobbin, you are not gonna believe this," he says, and when he's got her attention, he continues, "I think I just found you a girlfriend?"

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Yours For The Taking

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader x Carlos Sainz

Genre: SMUT

A/N: As much as I don't feel ready to come back, I feel bad the longer I take off so after the results on my poll, here is this fic. Who knows, maybe how this one does I might post (my personal favorite) another fic later during actual day hours.

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

3rd Person POV

It was a hot July Sunday in Miami, and the Formula 1 race had just concluded. Lando had just achieved the unthinkable. He didn't just make it to the podium; he won the Miami Grand Prix, securing his first-ever grand prix victory. As he stepped out of his car, he knew that this day was about to get a lot more exciting. He had made a bet with his best friend and rival, Carlos, and now it was time to claim his prize.

Lando found Carlos in the paddock, a tall, handsome Spaniard with thick brown hair and a mischievous smile. "I can't believe you did it, my friend," Carlos said, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "You drove like a demon out there. Now, it's time for you to enjoy the rewards." Lando felt a rush of anticipation as Carlos continued, "Y/N is waiting for you at my place. She's all yours for the night."

Lando's heart raced at the thought of finally being with Y/N, the stunning (your/age) woman who had captured his desires. "Let's go then," he said, his voice eager. "I can't wait to show her just how glad I am that I made that bet."

They arrived at Carlos' luxurious apartment, where soft music played in the background and the air was heavy with anticipation. The room was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lando's heart pounded as he entered, his eyes scanning the room for Y/N.

There she was, standing by the window, a vision of beauty in a sheer black lingerie set that left little to the imagination. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with desire. Lando felt his breath catch as he took in her perfection.

As Lando approached, Y/N smiled seductively. "Congratulations, Lando," she purred, her voice like velvet. "I've been waiting for this moment. I'm yours for the taking."

Lando wasted no time, pulling her into his arms and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced together as Lando backed Y/N up against the wall, his hands roaming over her body. Y/N moaned into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

Lando broke the kiss, trailing hot kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He nuzzled her soft skin, inhaling her scent, before latching his mouth onto the sensitive spot below her ear, sucking gently. Y/N arched her back, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she felt the wetness between her thighs grow.

"You like that, baby?" Lando murmured, his voice deep and gravelly. Y/N nodded, breathless, her hands urging him closer. Lando grasped the hem of her lingerie top and pulled it up over her head, baring her perfect breasts. He sucked a hard nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he played with the other between his fingers.

Y/N cried out, her head falling back as Lando continued his oral assault. His hands roamed lower, cupping her ass and pulling her tight against his hardening cock. She ground her hips against him, seeking friction as her pussy throbbed with need.

"I need to taste you," Lando growled, his breath hot against her skin. He sank to his knees in front of her, pulling her panties aside. Y/N's heart raced as she felt the cool air on her exposed pussy. Lando gazed up at her, his eyes dark with desire, before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her swollen clit.

Y/N gasped at the contact, her hands grasping Lando's shoulders as he began to explore her with his tongue. He lapped at her folds, savoring her taste as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive bud. Y/N whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily as Lando suckled and nibbled, driving her wild.

Lando inserted his fingers into her slick heat, pumping them in and out as he continued to work his magic with his tongue. Y/N cried out, her knees buckling as she felt the coils of pleasure tighten within her. "That's it, baby, cum for me," Lando urged, his voice hoarse. "Let me taste your sweet pussy."

Y/N's world exploded as she came hard around Lando's fingers, her juices flowing onto his tongue. He moaned in response, lapping up her essence as she rode out her orgasm. She felt weak at the knees as the pleasure waned, Lando's strong arms supporting her.

"My turn to pleasure you," Y/N said breathlessly, pulling Lando to his feet. She pushed him back onto the nearby couch and straddled him, grinding her slick pussy against his throbbing cock through his pants. Lando groaned, his hands grasping her hips as she rubbed against him, leaving him desperate for more.

Y/N unbuttoned Lando's pants, freeing his hard length. She stroked him slowly, enjoying the feel of his thick cock in her hand. Leaning forward, she whispered in his ear, "I've been thinking about this cock all day, imagining it buried deep inside me."

Lando's eyes rolled back at her words as Y/N lowered herself onto him, taking him inch by inch until she was fully impaled. She paused for a moment, savoring the feel of him stretching her, before beginning to move, rising and falling on his shaft.

Lando's hands grasped her breasts, kneading them as Y/N rode him, her head thrown back in pleasure. Her nipples rubbed against his chest as she moved, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body. "Fuck, you feel so good," Lando groaned, his eyes fixed on the sight of Y/N's breasts bouncing above him.

Y/N quickened her pace, her pussy clenching around Lando's cock as she neared the edge again. "I'm close," she whispered, her voice breathless. "Cum with me again." Lando nodded, his hips thrusting up to meet her frantic rhythm.

Together, they soared, crying out each other's names as pleasure ripped through them. Y/N's pussy contracted around Lando's cock, milking him as he filled her with his hot cum. They stayed joined, catching their breath, before Y/N collapsed against Lando's chest, a satisfied smile on her face.

But Lando wasn't done with her yet, and neither was Carlos, who had been secretly watching the entire time, stroking his hard cock as he enjoyed the show. "I think it's time to take things up a notch," he said, stepping into the room.

Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of Carlos, her body thrumming with anticipation for whatever was to come. Lando grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye as he helped Y/N off the couch. "Let's move this party to the bedroom."

They entered the dimly lit bedroom, where Carlos had prepared a few surprises. Lando pushed Y/N onto the bed, her wrists finding the waiting handcuffs as she spread her arms out above her head. The cool metal closed around her wrists, securing her in place. A blindfold was then placed over her eyes, heightening her senses as she waited, breathless with anticipation.

Lando and Carlos hovered over her, their lips brushing hers, their hands roaming her body. She couldn't tell who was doing what as they teased her, driving her wild with desire. She felt lips trail down her neck, hands squeezing her breasts, and then a wet warmth enveloped her nipples as they were sucked and licked.

Y/N moaned, her back arching as she begged for more. She felt fingers tracing the outlines of her ribs, the soft swell of her stomach, before dipping lower to tease her aching pussy. A finger circled her entrance, teasing her, before pushing inside, joined soon by another, stretching her, making her cry out.

"You like that, baby?" Lando's voice asked, his breath hot against her ear. Y/N nodded frantically, her hips bucking to meet the thrusting fingers. She felt the bed dip as one of the men moved, and then a hard cock teased her entrance, rubbing against her soaked folds.

The blindfold and handcuffs heightened her senses as Y/N felt the thickness of Lando's cock push inside her. She cried out, her body accepting him, stretching to accommodate his size. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned, his hips slowly working his cock deeper inside her tight heat.

Lando set a relentless pace, his cock plunging in and out of Y/N's willing hole. She matched his movements, her hips pushing up to meet his, needing more. Her juices flowed freely, coating Lando's cock as he thrust into her over and over.

Carlos stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard length as he watched the erotic display. "She's so fucking hot like that, tied up and blindfolded," he said, his thick Spanish accent sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. "Now, let's really drive her wild."

Lando withdrew from Y/N's pussy, leaving her whimpering at the loss. But then she felt a different sensation as Lando positioned himself at her mouth. She opened willingly, moaning at the taste of her pussy on his cock as he fed it to her.

Lando began to thrust into her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair as he set a steady rhythm, fucking her face. Y/N relaxed her throat, taking him deep, feeling the head of his cock bump against the back of her throat. She sucked and licked, reveling in the sensation of having him fill her mouth.

Carlos positioned himself at Y/N's entrance, teasing her wetness with the tip of his cock. "Mmm, I can't wait to feel this tight pussy around my dick," he said, his voice filled with hunger. With one smooth thrust, he sheathed himself inside her, filling her to the brim.

Y/N cried out around Lando's cock, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being so full. Lando held her hair tightly, controlling the pace as he face-fucked her, his hips meeting Carlos's in a delicious rhythm. Y/N felt like she was in a erotic trance, her body on fire with pleasure.

The men picked up the pace, their thrusts becoming harder and faster. Y/N felt herself spiraling out of control, her body being used exactly as it was meant to be. She whimpered and moaned, blindfolded and helpless, at the mercy of these two handsome racers.

Lando came first, his cock throbbing as he spilled his seed down Y/N's throat. She swallowed eagerly, loving the feel of his release. Carlos continued to pound into her, his cock slick with her juices and Lando's cum. "Fuck, I'm close," he grunted, his hips slamming into Y/N's.

"Cum inside me," Y/N begged, her body craving the feel of his release. "Fill me up." Her words sent Carlos over the edge, and he thrust hard into her, holding still as he emptied his balls deep into her waiting womb.

Y/N felt the warmth of their combined release inside her, her body pulsating with the aftershocks of her own orgasm. She was utterly spent, her wrists sore from the handcuffs, her body glistening with a layer of sweat.

Lando and Carlos released her from her restraints, gently removing the blindfold. Y/N blinked up at them, a satisfied smile on her face. "That...was incredible," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the face-fucking.

Lando grinned, kissing her softly. "We aim to please," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I think it's time for round two. I have a feeling tonight is just getting started."

And so, their erotic adventure continued deep into the Miami night, each new moment more pleasurable than the last. It was a night Y/N would forever cherish, a reward for Lando's victory that neither of them would ever forget.

-------

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye @kazza72584 @norstappenvibes

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

39 and 55 for Tav/Astarion? OH AND I LOVE WANT IT ALL, YOUR WRITING IS IMPECCABLE ‼️<3

Prompt(s): leaning into the other’s side + tracing the lines on the other’s hand

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

There really was nothing like being pleasantly tipsy while in good company. Your party was in good spirits, the night was warm and, for once, danger was something that happened to other people. 

Eventually everyone had shuffled off to bed, leaving you and Astarion leaning against each other as the fire crackled on.  Your thoughts floated in front of you, swimming lazily in the air. Everything was just so lovely, especially the other hand in yours.  You couldn’t help but run your fingers across the lines, smiling as you made a study of every angle.  

“See something you like,” Astarion asked, amused.  He was decidedly more sober than you and appeared content to stay that way. 

You nodded idly. “You have beautiful hands. I bet you’d make a wonderful pianist.”

He gave a low laugh, shaking you slightly with the effort. 

“What?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, grinning. “You just might be the only person I know who could study a man’s hands and think only of their musical capabilities.” 

You stared confused, before a sinking rush of embarrassment flooded your stomach.

“Oh.”

He laughed again, turning just enough to kiss your temple. “Just teasing darling. Although I do love that color on your cheeks.”

“Serves me right for trying to give you a compliment,” you said, pouting. 

“Oh don’t be like that. I relish them all.” 

You huffed in childish annoyance, which only seemed to humor him. He then raised your entwined hands to the firelight, narrowing his gaze as if to examine them himself. 

“Do you think I’d actually be good?” he asked as a peace offering. 

You let out a sigh. There really was no use trying to stay annoyed with him. 

“Capability is there,” you allowed, “provided you have a very, very patient teacher.”

“Are you offering?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re interested.”

“Depends if you’re offering,” he repeated, with a sly smile. 

You didn’t answer right away, scrunching your face in exaggerated thought. 

“Maybe not piano,” you concluded. “There’s only so far the blind can lead the blind.”

He nodded in understanding. “How about the violin?”

Again, you considered before shaking your head. “Too difficult for a beginner. Lute isn’t bad though.”

He gave a dismissive scoff. “Overdone. The lyre, perhaps?”

“Bit on the nose don’t you think?”

His brows furrowed, his lips pursing in consideration. “A lyre and a player…Yes, I suppose you’re right. The jokes just write themselves. Flute?”

You shrugged. “Never learned actually.”

“Really?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “Pan pipes.”

“No.”

“Horns?”

“No to all wind instruments. I think it comes down to mechanics. I never saw the appeal of having to put my lips together and blow.” 

You glanced up at Astarion, keen to watch his reaction. 

He stared at you for a long second, a look of utter confusion on his face. His eyes then widened as a loud laugh barked from his lips. 

You broke that same instant, dissolving into giggles. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” he said, trying and failing to get a hold of himself. “Gods that was awful!” 

“But effective,” you pointed out, grinning. 

He gave another short laugh before shaking his head. “What have I gotten myself into with you?”

“Having regrets?”A wicked smirk flashed across his face. “Far from it, darling.” He then leaned in close, his eyes alight with conspiracy and mirth. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

[icewons]

first date w/ riize !

how riize would treat you on the first date, ot7 headcanons.

new bf!riize x gn!reader, established feelings, fluff, teasing, bickering, some cuddling, sfw kisses, no nsfw, theyre js cute.

if there are any typos pls ignore 😞💔 ,, will have a smau / text version of this soon!

💌 — requests are open! <3

★ — shotaro ?!

shotaro would most definitely take you on a picnic, he just feels like a picnic kind of guy. he’d pack so many cute little snacks and even make the meal into characters such as ‘ hello kitty ‘ just to see you smile. i feel like he’d just love to spend quality time with you. both of your feelings are already known to each other, but for shotaro, he just LOVES spending time together, no matter what you guys will do. watching other people on the grass while you talk about anything and everything, sharing old stories and listening to music.

★ — eunseok ?!

eunseok’s seems a bit basic, as he loves rocks, but he would definitely take you to a crafts store where you guys can decorate your own rocks / stones. he’d paint all sorts of characters while thinking of you and you guys would spend hours in there. might i even say you guys stay up until the shop closes. but at the end of the day, he would hand you a bag full of the rocks he painted and kiss your forehead. giving you the rocks as a first date gift.

★ — sungchan ?!

some people might think sungchans first date idea would be something energetic and interesting, but somehow i feel like he would much rather have a quiet, indoors, cuddle party. seems a bit much for a first date, but thats what pulls you both closer. you both take turns putting on your favorite movies, you watch old cartoons and make popcorn, even order pizza. he’d definitely be the kind of guy to have an arm around your waist, but waits for you to lean in first for a cuddle. he’d want you to be comfortable at your own pace. but once you guys cuddle, he never lets you go. <3

★ — wonbin ?!

i feel like wonbin would be so nervous and have a whole plan set out for your first date, but as you two go along the plans, it all starts to not work out. like he’d take you on a drive to a beautiful place, but on your way back, the car stops working. he’d get so embarrassed and awkward, apologizing so many times but that is why you like him, nothing is perfect. you like the reality of it all. being with him feels like a dream, but you get to help build the dream with him. you’d hold his face and give him a soft peck before suggesting to call a car shop, while you admire the view. so, in the end it worked out anyway!

★ — seunghan ?!

seunghan is definitely a disney land kind of boyfriend. seunghan IS the disney princess. he would love bringing you on his favorite rides and meeting his favorite characters with you. he’d excitedly show you where to get the good food and buy you so many plushies. he’d be so cute omg, you would find it so enjoyable to watch him be so excited about such little things. he would definitely also buy accessories to dress you both up like characters.

★ — sohee ?!

sohee feels like a gamer kind of guy, he’d take you do a gaming cafè, then to an arcade, and then back home to play more games. but he’d also be very competitive, you guys would have fun bickering and making bets on who will win which game. playfully push each other to try and make the other lose, i feel like he would lose a lot to you but the one time he actually did win, he would jump up and dance around before pulling you into a quick kiss. but he’d get so embarrassed and shy afterwards which you find just so adorable of him.

★ — anton ?!

anton would definitely want to do crafts and stuff with you. more likely, legos. he loves his legos, but you as well. you guys would buy all sorts of sets and take them back to his place to build them. he would put on music and then the building starts! i feel like even though you both like each other romantically, he’d be a great mix of boyfriend and best friend. you guys would bicker and push each other around to see who could build faster. but by the end of it, you won. at least you thought you did, anton would then show you his set. which was you. this man would build you with legos and give it to you as a gift.

FINISHED !

💭 — i might do another one of these with boynextdoor or even enhypen, so keep an eye out!! i hope you enjoyed this. <3 likes & rbs are appreciated!

tags : @enhaas @starchasing-cryptid @lavendersloane @academiq @wnyngz @wonhes

if you wish to be tagged in future works like this, send an ask & or a reply, and i’ll add you !!

[greynatomy]

dazed & confused

leila ouahabi x reader

it’s your bday @sleekswosobession !!

———

You’ve been dragged to the go out by your friends after a stressful day. Declining at first, they insisted, so you were now at the bar, drink in hand.

The bass was thumping in the dimly lit club, tension radiating off of everyone. Watching everyone let loose, your eyes lock on a mysterious figure from across the room.

You came in swinging like Apollo I'll be feeling it tomorrow No, I ain't seeing straight, hyperventilate Knees begin to wobble

Igniting a spark of curiosity and attraction, your feet began to move, pushing you through the crowd of people, with determination in each step.

You cut my brakes and hit the throttle I couldn't stop it if I wanted Dizzy silhouette, makes me break a sweat I'm in trouble

“Mind if I join you?” you shouted, over the music, giving her a charming smile.

She glanced at you, lips quirking up in a grin. “Depends on whether you can keep up.”

It was a challenge that you willingly accepted. The club was dark, bar from the little spotlights all over. You matched her movements, bodies syncing as one in a dance of seduction and intrigue. Tension growing with each beat.

“So, what’s your name?” You lean in closer, lips brushing against her ear.

“Leila.”

“Leila, hmm.” You smirk, leaning back, face still close together. “I like that.” Leila shakes her head, flustered, but trying not to make it obvious. “So, what brings you here?”

“Maybe I’m just here to look for a dance partner.” She shrugs, a look of mischief on her face.

“Well, you certainly found one.”

Your bodies moved in perfect symphony, Leila could feel your breath against her neck as you moved to the beat. As you lean in closer, Leila pushes your face out of her neck and puts you face to face.

“It was nice dancing with you, but I gotta go.”

With that, she bids her goodbye, leaving no trace of her. Days turned into weeks and Leila was someone who you couldn’t get your mind off of.

People would call you pathetic, but you’ve been back to that same club every few days hoping to catch a glimpse of her again.

Oh, I've been dazed and confused From the day I met you Yeah, I lost my head And I'd do it again

Nursing on a drink, the ice began to melt as you swirl the glass around. Sighing, you look up, eyes scanning the crowd for a second before they’re back staring down at the glass.

“Who’re you looking for?”

Your head shoots up, eyes widening at the sight of her.

Either I've seen the light Or I'm losing my mind There's something 'bout you That's got me dazed and confused

“You look like a lost little puppy.” Leila jutted her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Leila.” You manage to get out.

“That’s me.”

I bet you know just what you're doing You're not the type that's used to losing First, you build me up, then with just a touch Leave me here in ruins

Her eyes meet yours and you swear that time stopped.

Something 'bout your eyes I can't even walk in a straight line Under the influence

You felt your knees buckle, barely able to keep yourself upright. The world around you is spinning while Leila was the center of it all.

She grabs your arm, dragging you to the dance floor. You forget about everything else, focused solely on her. The whole night felt like a blur.

You’ve picked up where you left off, the heat between the two of you was undeniable. You’ve, once again, surrendered yourself to her, following the way her body moves against yours.

I don't know if this is real life, real life What happens if I open my eyes, my eyes? Will I ever get my head right, head right? I don't know if this is real life, real life

You wonder if all of this was just a dream, that once you open your eyes, everything disappears. But it wasn’t a dream. You have this beautiful girl in front of you, dancing with you. You are in euphoria.

“Hey.”

A whisper breaks you out of your thoughts. Leila pulls you in by the neck, noses touching.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

Goosebumps littered your body, words getting stuck in your throat. She grabs your hand, leading you out of the building.

It was a question that never needed answering.