#almost forgot my character tags oops

[rainyjackalope]

NEW FURSONA!!!

I've had this character in my brain for a long time now....couldn't tell you exactly how long but trust me they were in there. I've been sketching them relentlessly for the past month trying to get the design down (and improve at drawing chickens in general. Learned a lot!)

They are a werebeast of sorts but instead of a wolf they turn into a cockatrice when emotions run high. Their forms vary in that they can be a sort of anthro beast, full cockatrice, or even a wyvern!

I was scrambling to complete them for art fight and now they're ready!!

[critterishere]

First image was drawn like 11 days ago I think,,,,

the virus….. it’s changing me…….

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

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.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[electrozeistyking]

AU where Jestro dies for ten seconds upon being electrified. Monstrox, of course, is more perplexed by the fact he suddenly came back to life without any input than the fact he unwittingly killed him.

Bonus flats of the first image:

[shiguknifeii]

The KURO of '24

[ghostlylicious]

‘Battle Cry'

An oc drabble by yours truly

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

Ze never had the courage to give faer a flower, though ze knew what kind of flowers fae liked; roses, daffodils, and lily of the valleys.

But then ze did gather the courage to give faer a flower. A small, yellow dandelion. Within a frenzied battlefield where fae was the tyrant of the other side. Ze reached faer, battered and rage-fueled, just to give this flower.

A distraction? A truce? Fae couldn't tell, for fae had never experienced a gesture like this. So then followed a clunk from the impact of steel on cobble.

And so the king cried.

the ocs that hate me (they need a redesign fr):

[aquatic-batt]

the type of shit I’ve been on as of late

[halaboyz]

goodnight, dear. — psh

pairing: non-idol! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre: ANGST word count: 16.5k warnings: profanities. reader has illness. simple medical jargons. medical inaccuracies. major character death.

notes: inspired by two filipino books entitled "seven days with miss stalker" written by dara nakahara and "she's dating the gangster" by bianca bernardino.; reader is part of a religion; not discussed, only said for prayers and for giving thanks a/n: ever so dedicated to my now-inactive moot @junjungsunwoo yena <3 it was supposedly part of a collab which was posponed because we all went on a hiatus but! i proceeded with it <3 i love and appreciate all of you <3 tag: @kflixnet

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: befriending the ice prince of your school in the middle of the semester abruptly was something you'd never do. so it takes a little bit of life and time before you do, then bravely asking him to date you for a month. that's all- and you promised you'll leave him alone. 

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ 。 listen now to: spotify. 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

D-105.

Just like usual, you head to your seat at the corner of the cafeteria, munching quietly on your brunch beside your best friend. 

“He’s coming!” Both  of you hear a screech and continuous cheers as a huge crowd of girls run outside, candies, chocolates, and sweet things in their hands as they welcome the ice king of your campus. “Sunghoon!” Park Sunghoon. “Sunghoon, you must be sad. Take this! It will help cheer you up!” A girl stands out from the rest, almost shoving the lollipop on Sunghoon’s face. 

He does nothing but continue walking, tailed by his friends with a chuckle that gethered their own small batch of fangirls. 

“Pathetic.” Seol-in mutters beside you, shaking her head. You immediately look at her with a glare, “Oops.” She chuckles, raising her arms in defense. “Forgot I have another fan here.” 

“To say I’m a fan is too much. I only like him.” You mutter, taking your eyes off of him after a few seconds. And then glancing again. Which made Seol-in chuckle.

“Yeah. That’s what fans do. Like a person.” She explains sarcastically, making you roll your eyes. 

“Then I’m not that obsessed.” You point at the group of girls, “I have my respect and dignity for myself intact to do that. Much more when he’s fresh out of a break up.” 

Seol-in stops eating and perks up when she hears you explain, eyebrows meeting in the middle and slowly turning to look you in the eyes.

“And how do you know that Miss ‘I’m not a fan’?” A smirk was drawn on her lips which made you cough, not meeting her eyes. 

“Just here and there.” 

“Hmm. Here and there. Don’t you think if it was here and there, I would’ve known?” Seol-in raises her brows and taps on the table, knowing that it was going to make you more irritable since it was your ick.

“Fine! Sunghoon posted a story on Instagram with a picture of him partying with a caption ‘single again!’ Are you satisfied?!” You unintentionally burst out,  glaring at Seol-in who was now tight-lipped. 

Quite literally. Lips pressed together, she motions you to not look back but stupidity got the best of you that you understood it as turn around. And so you do.

Sunghoon, standing with his tray of food in hand, was looking down at you. 

“So much for broadcasting my love life status,” Sunghoon deadpans, before moving on to sit on the table next to yours. 

It makes you internally shake your head and curse yourself, turning back to face your own food in shame as you hear relentless mocking of his fans. 

“Not like he didn’t post a story captioned ‘I’m single and ready to mingle again!’” Seol-in defended you, shamelessly scaring his fans off with a thugged appearance. You nudge her, making her stop. 

It was just another day of being you. 

D-104.

“Code Blue, Code Blue! Room 316, Female, 21 years old. Code Blue, Code Blue! Room 316, Female, 21 years old…” You hear the speakers call out as everything follows is a slur, your eyes blurring as you struggle to keep sane. You don’t even feel like you were breathing. Were you? All you felt was pain. Excruciating pain the first few minutes and then you were numb. You were numb when nurses and doctors jumped restlessly on you to perform chest compressions. 

It only felt like yesterday when you were quietly sitting on all of your classes, 

It was only yesterday.

“Did you do anything that tired you out? How come you let it get this bad?” The familiar doctor you’d been seeing since you were a kid nags, shaking his head at you. 

“I didn’t.” You retort immediately, regretting it as the sudden jump made your chest tighten, making you grab it. Your doctor assists you back into your bed, snickering at you. 

“Well then, did you watch a sad movie? Felt too happy? Felt too excited? Surprised?” When the temporary pain slowly disappears, you avoid the doctor’s eyes as you mumble a small ‘no.’ “Y/n… We’ve talked about this…” 

“Am I not a person? Why am I not able to feel things as I want to?” You pout, but it was the same line you’ve always said since you were also a kid. And also, the very first question you’ve asked your doctor. When you catch a glimpse of his apologetic eyes, you grow uncomfortable. “I was kidding. I get it.” 

Your dad was watching you from afar, picking on his nails and was still until the doctor called him in. 

“Can I talk to you alone for a sec?” The doctor signals to your father, urging privacy which makes you curious. 

“I’m an adult,” You open, suddenly growing anxious at how your father and the doctor shared gazes. “Please say it in front of me,” 

D-101. 

As the clock strikes 12, you swallow the lump on your throat as the doctor clears his, asking your dad for one last confirmation before he drops the news. 

“As you can see, y/n is neither getting stable or better,” The doctor drops his head, unwilling to see your father’s heartbroken eyes and yours. “...only worse,” 

You heave a deep sigh, balancing your emotions out so as to not feel too sad about this and not to dwell on what’s to come next.

“Y/n… Doesn’t have much time left,” And there comes the shock. Maybe you shouldn’t have really known. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be too anxious about living just another day. Your dad weeps, holding your hand desperately as you both feel the world fall on you. “I’d say three months… or less,” The doctor falls his head in shame, pressing his lips together and avoiding both of your eyes. 

D-97. 

“You really want to do this?” Your father asks, bringing your bag to you. “Y/n… You don’t need to. We can travel where you want, eat what you want and do whatever you want.”

“Dad… I’d rather live with the time I have left as a normal person, as I had always done. Wherein I have to go to school on dreaded Mondays, feel happy it’s Friday, and enjoy my Saturdays with my friends or with you, along with Sundays. I’d be thankful to even have that, Dad.” You smile, holding your Dad’s shoulders and pulling him to a hug. “Thank you, Dad.” 

Your father holds his tears and proudly stands his guards on you. Nodding as he arranges your collar back into place and letting you go your way after a few sermons. 

“Y/n!” Seol-in welcomes you with open arms, snot running down her nose and tears out of her eyes. “Are you okay? Why did you even come here?!” She squeezes you into a hug, making you squirm and chuckle. 

“Hey, don’t be so dramatic now. As you can see, I’m okay. I’m good, I’m fine.” You explain, hitting your limbs to show her that you’re indeed thriving. 

She whines and pulls you into a hug again, and you just let her until she’s calmed down, walking to your first class.

“So, what did the doctor say?” 

“Hmm,” You hesitate, thinking whether to break the news or not. You opted it wasn’t the right setting. “Nothing new. I just had a burst out that’s why I had the attack. Sorry for worrying you,” You pout, clinging to her arm and changing to another topic as you found available seats.

She assures you and swears to look after you better as you wait for the class to start, your eyes roaming around to take in the sight. You act like it’s your last day. You wish you could be here for much longer. But you know you’d be taken any time from now on. 

Your breath stops exaggeratedly when you realize the available seat next to you was pulled to reveal Sunghoon sitting next to you uninterestedly, not batting you an eye. Seol-in nudges you knowing perfectly well how you’re not managing.

“Deep breaths, y/n! Control your heart!” Seol-in lightheartedly whispers, rubbing your back. You lean back at your seat to get a glance at Sunghoon, who only had eyes on his phone. You breathe through pursed lips, rubbing your chest as if it made a difference on your abnormally beating heart.

It’s just sitting next to you, what’s the big point?

See, the big point is, through the years you’d been blockmates with this man, fate had never ever brought you near each other even if you were given the smallest classrooms. So it was indeed a big deal that someone you’ve liked throughout the years was now beside you. 

Say, you’d be brazen enough to even claim this as a sign to finally get to talk to him. You’d always been the ambivert, so this time, it was time to bring out your extrovert-ness just to get close to him. 

Not going to hurt to try, eh?

“Hi Sunghoon,” You smile, fully facing him as you put your chin on your palm to lean on the table. He curiously, confusedly gives you a glance, blinking at you. “You look good today,” Your confidence was also a great shock to you, knowing full well that if it was the last-week-you that was in this situation, you wouldn’t have uttered even one word.  

“Y/n, you’re creeping me out.” Sunghoon mumbles, scooting away from you. You chuckle, shaking your hands before him.

“Sorry, I just wanted you to know.” Seol-in watches in horror, just as confused as Sunghoon. You fumble back on your seat after that, smiling at Seol-in and even chuckling at yourself for your unpredictableness. You think that was enough for today.

At least, if it were your last, you had the opportunity to make him feel appreciated in the most weird way, at a random time possible. 

Because come on, fuck it! Where your tomorrow isn’t even guaranteed, what more could you lose than regret?

D-94.

“Your partners are revealed in our respective group chats, so start immediately,” Your professor leaves after her last remarks, and all of you start to check your phones for your partners. You hear grunts and cheers, and as for you…

“Oh yeah!” You growl, raising your fist in the air as if you’ve just won the lottery. Everyone stops and grows quiet, looking at you horridly. “Oops, sorry.” You smile, your eyes searching for that one guy you heard grunting a while ago. “...Park Sunghoon!” You coo, making your way towards him cheekily. 

Sunghoon just looks in confusion, weirded out by how you were acting since two days ago. “Are you possessed? What is up to you these days? We’re never really close and talked so…” His face said it all, he was confused to his bones. 

“Is it bad that I wanted to be friends with you?” You invite yourself to the seat next to him, plopping. “It’s our last year in college, I want to be close to everyone!” 

“After all these years? How about no?” Sunghoon again, scoots further from you and starts skimming through his book, trying to get the project over with just ten minutes in from the second he read the instructions. 

“No? You don’t want to be friends?” You pout, confidence significantly decreasing… and increasing with your idea.

“Hmm, I don’t want to. So don’t waste your time,” Sunghoon sighs and continues with his work.

“If you don’t want to…” You mumble… scooting closer and in front of him to cover the book with your palm, getting his attention. You give him the cheekiest smile you can give, “Then do you want to be my boyfriend?” 

D-90.

“Then just give me one month! Be my boyfriend for a month! That’s it and I wouldn’t even go five meters close to a piece of your hair!” You argue, as if your deal offer was making sense. It had been one week since you have been offering a deal to Sunghoon, and not much like the first time he heard it– where his jaw dropped and sneered at you as if you had just lost your mind. Now, where you sit confidently against him as he quietly has his lunch, he doesn’t even spare you and your bullshit a glance. “Park Sunghoon!” You whine, throwing a fit. It gains a lot of attention including his fangirls who you genuinely heard growling, which made you fake a cough and glare at him. “I’m not done with you just yet,” You drop your hand on the table, making him groan and roll his eyes.

Seol-in watches how you trudge back to your shared table, scratching her head.

“Hey y/n, have you really really lost your mind?” She asks with such genuine voice and concern, grabbing your hand. “Why the hell are you asking Park Sunghoon out for a week already? That’s not you,” 

“It’s definitely me, Seol-in.” You chuckle, patting her hand. “And what’s so wrong about a girl asking a man out? Stop being prejudiced!” You take a spoonful of your food, watching Seol-in. “Just eat already,” 

“I just don’t get it. There’s something wrong,” She shakes her head but leaves it to you, knowing full well you know what you’re doing. “But no!” She exclaims, making you jump. “Just last week we were talking about how you’re not even that obsessed and how you’re so defensive about being one of his fangirls!” 

“But I did admit that I liked him,” You chuckle, proving your point.

“But! I don’t think it was enough that you ask him out! Above all that, when he’s fresh out of a break up!” You stop, letting Seol-in’s words sink in. She was right. Sunghoon was fresh out of a break up and you just had to add up to the girls jumping in on him. 

“Ah, I don’t know! I’ll do whatever,” You shake it off, continuing to munch on your food as Seol-in continues to berate you. 

D-80. 

“Sunghoon, I’m not saying this because I have a big self-esteem and ego but, I don’t think you notice this.” You flip your hair exaggeratedly, even though he wasn’t looking at you. You were at a quiet corner in the library, allegedly working on your project. “...but I’m a really good pick!” Sunghoon snorts and finally looks at you in amusement, and you straighten your posture as if you were in an interview.

“You? A good pick?” Sunghoon repeats, and you nod.

“I really am! I’m pretty, I have my acads with straight A’s, I have a good relationship with my family! What more can you ask for?” You arrogantly list out your pros, crossing your arms right after. 

“And your cons?” Sunghoon mimics your movement, as if trying to challenge you. 

“I don’t have one.” You avoid his eyes for a second, because if you listed that out too, it will outnumber your pros. “So please give me one month of your life,” You exaggerate, begging as you rub your palms together in front of him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“I’m completely being sincere and serious, though.” You were close to whining once again, flapping your arms around. 

“You don’t look like it,” Sunghoon sighs and gets back to your project, possessing a small smirk that ticked you off. 

“Come on, Park Sunghoon!” 

“Y/n.” Sunghoon sternly stops your whining, looking straight into your eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but please don’t take it out on me. I’m not interested. If you keep doing this, it will grow on me that you’re taking advantage of my vulnerability since I was just out of a relationship and I don’t want to think that of you,” He explains with such a solemn face that you grow embarrassed of your actions immediately, shrinking on your seat. “I’m sorry but can we please proceed to the project now?” 

You harbor a pout and unintentionally have it until you were done, cleaning your things up. 

“Can you stay here for a bit? I’ll just go get something.” You leave Sunghoon before he could even say something, leaving your  things to assure him you were coming back. You only grab your phone and wallet, traveling to the closest cafe. When you travel back to the library, you catch a glimpse of Sunghoon through the large windows, legs impatiently bouncing as he looks around for you. 

“Okay. If he’s not for me then he’s not for me.” You mumble, sighing and proceeding to jog inside the library and go straight to the table. You put the cup of drink and slide it across the table, nodding at him. “Iced vanilla latte. Your favorite right? I’ve seen you order these a lot,” You heave a deep sigh. He raises an eyebrow before he takes it, “That’s not a bribe. That’s an apology gift.” Sunghoon takes a sip and confusingly looks up to you, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention at all.” 

“Y/n,” Sunghoon starts but you cut him off with a pat on the shoulder, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safely!” You get your things quickly and wave goodbye, getting your things and not giving him a chance to talk. 

Leaving Sunghoon with a bitter taste in his mouth and it’s definitely not because of the coffee.

D-76.

“Oh y/n, good thing you’re here,” Sunghoon starts, wanting to talk the heavy feeling in his chest out since the library incident. 

“Sunghoon! Don’t worry about it, I’ve finished everything on the project! We can pass it later already,” 

“That’s not it,” Sunghoon stops you by the arm but you look at your watch as if you were in a rush.

“Sorry, but I have to run. You can text me if you see any mistakes on my part, I’ll correct it immediately.” You apologize and Sunghoon lets you go and nods at you, thinking it wasn’t the right time yet to apologize if he had offended you. 

Sunghoon has been bearing it in his chest and mind that he shouldn’t have put you out like that, blaming his stress that was on its peak that day.

Heeseung chuckles as he looks at Sunghoon’s eyes which never leave your figure until it completely disappears, but having to opt not to say anything about it first.

D-72.

“Y/n!” Sunghoon shouts through the hallway, making you stop and hide your face. “Y/n!” He repeats, and you hear him run to chase you. You sigh, deciding to just face him instead. 

“Oh, Sunghoon,” You smile, turning to face him. “Do you need something?” Knowing you’ve completed your project with him and nothing more, so it was a given that you’re confused. He had clear intentions he didn’t want to be friends, so why does he keep chasing you down everywhere you go?

“Are you free for lunch?” He fumbles with the books in his hand, avoiding your eyes.

“I was going to go with Seol-in, as always,” You chuckle, “Why? Did we need to revise something in the project?” 

“Ah… no. But can we talk for a minute, then?” He lets out a small sigh,  hands already asking you to follow him in a space where nobody was. You nod hesitantly, just following him then.

“What is it? You sound serious,” You follow him to your now empty classroom, sitting on the seat out front. He leans on the table in front of it, and heaves another sigh. 

“I was trying to get a hold of you the past few days but you’ve been busy,” He finally lets out a chuckle, nodding at you. “I wanted to apologize about what I said in the library that time. I was out of line,” He admits his wrong immediately, smiling at you. 

You finally let out a sigh of relief, now knowing what was on his mind. 

“Sunghoon, why are you apologizing for that? I should be. I was the one out of line.” You assure him, shaking your hands in his face. “Do you know how I’ll feel if you apologize for something I did?” 

“No, no. It was just weighing my mind and I didn’t want you to think that I thought bad of you. You said that your intentions weren’t that so maybe I went off the wrong way how I said it.” He holds your hand to stop you from shaking it in front of him, feeling his warmth engulf your hands.

“Fine, fine. Then we’re even already. That will do it, won't it?” You smile at him, craning your neck until you get an answer for him. 

“I owe you a coffee. I’ll treat you next time,” He pats your hand, smiling back at you. 

“I don’t drink coffee, so there’s no need. Let’s just eat lunch and leave all this in the past, alright?” You realize he’s still holding your hand which makes you slowly take yours back, smiling and patting his shoulder once again. “Let’s go?” 

D-70. 

Sunghoon’s curiosity towards you grew and grew the moment your interactions blew less and less, only decreasing to hi’s and hello’s and his days were a lot bland without your yapping and blabbering. Even though you had only done this for a week, it had grown on him especially because you weren’t initially close at all. 

“Why does my friend look especially troubled today?” Heeseung drops his body towards the man, plopping beside him on the bean bag. “Something bothering you?”

“I don't think so,” But Sunghoon keeps on staring afar, unbothered to look at his concerned friend. 

Which is giving him a stink eye now.

“You know what, fine, don't tell me. Mister I keep everything to myself because I’m a cool guy and cool guys don't have problems,” Heeseung nags, mocking Sunghoon’s usual deadpanned face with a sneer. 

Sunghoon chuckles lowly and sighs, shaking his head at Heeseung.

“I’m just confused. That’s all.” He explains, making Heeseung look back at him in anticipation. A few quiet seconds pass and Heeseung sighs in frustration, throwing the pillow in Sunghoon’s chest.

“Oh come on! That’s it?! Tell me everything! You’re driving me crazy!” 

“What…” Sunghoon mumbles with a chuckle, looking at Heeseung losing his mind as he flaps his limbs around. “Okay, okay.” He deeply sighs again, playing with his fingers. “It’s about y/n.” 

“Finally! Wait, what?” Heeseung internally screams, but displays a face of confusion, raising his eyebrows at Sunghoon. “You’ve finally gotten rid of her within a week, what do you mean when you say it’s about y/n and that you’re confused?” 

Sunghoon clicks his tongue and props himself to look at Heeseung face to face, showing seriousness and his determined face to understand every bit of what he’s feeling now. 

“Exactly.” Sunghoon nods at Heeseung as if he’s waiting for an answer, and when he gets nothing, he nods again for Heeseung’s confirmation. 

“What do you want me to say, dumbass?” He throws a pillow right through Sunghoon’s head, and as he’d like to describe, so fucking frustrated.

“Stop hitting me! And I don’t know! That’s why I’m confused!” Sunghoon, also frustrated, has laid out his empty hands to Heeseung to show he’s got nothing to offer than that.

“I ought to just smack you in the fucking face, really.” Heeseung suppresses his annoyance and just massages his temples, rolling his eyes so hard he saw the back of his head. “Tell me something so I can say something too, you know,” 

“I just… I don’t know, Seung. I think it’s my fault too.” Sunghoon explains, “Just a few weeks ago, we started talking because of that damned project. Not even one week  in and she asks me to be his boyfriend. I decline. Also becoming her friend. And then I shoot her something offensive and air shifts and then suddenly she’s not talking to me anymore that much and I apologize and I don’t know, we’re friends?” He rambles on, and it takes a little more patience out of Heeseung to not pull his hair out. 

“So, what the fuck’s confusing?” Heeseung asks through gritted teeth. Admit it, dumbo! He thinks.

“Are we friends or not? Am I allowed to keep it casual and talk about random things with her or am I just supposed to smile and greet and walk off? That’s confusing.” As if a light bulb has just turned on inside his head, Sunghoon perks at the clear question that’s been allegedly bugging him. 

But on the other hand, oh he’s stupid-stupid. Heeseung thinks.

“Didn’t you decide to put it behind you? Then you could answer the question yourself, Hoon! You could come up to her casually and just whatever,” Heeseung still gives him a light piece of advice, knowing it’s not the right time to put mind into Sunghoon’s actions. 

“Maybe, I guess.” Sunghoon hesitantly nods, finally letting peace take over his mind and say fuck it. 

D-68.

“Seol-in, do you know what time Physics starts?” You randomly ask, at a random time in the middle of the day, in the middle of a random lunch, at a random table. 

“In twenty minutes,” A manly voice took over your random conversation, making you look up. You see Sunghoon and Heeseung gently placing their trays of food beside you and Seol-in, scrunching your forehead in confusion. “Sorry, were the seats taken?” 

“Absolutely not,” Seol-in answers, cheeks full of food but harboring the same expression as you. The two men nod and sit, starting with their food. She kicks your shin lightly below the table and as you shake your shoulders lightly, you just decide to continue with your food in silence.

“I’m sorry, did we scare you?” Heeseung chuckles, glancing at you. He was sitting diagonally in front of you, beside Seol-in. 

“Oh, no. You’re cool,” You chuckle as well and shake your hands in front of you, finishing your food just as they did. Sunghoon glances weirdly at you, seeing how well you blend in with people you don’t even really talk to, just like with him. “Were we weird?” You carry on with the conversation, eyes staying at Heeseung only. 

“We definitely felt your eyes on us,” Heeseung jokes around, and stands up the same time you do to return your trays. Seol-in and Sunghoon watch in horror how you both click, just like two peas in a pod. You and Heeseung both laugh when you realize it, going together to the booth to return your trays.

“Wow, did I move down y/n’s best friend list just like that?” Seol-in says as her eyes stay at the both of you walking away, the same Sunghoon was doing. 

“Same,” Sunghoon shakes his head in disapproval, going with Seol-in awkwardly to tail the both of you. 

It ends up as you and Heeseung share a light conversation, Seol-in and Sunghoon are quietly following. Sunghoon had a plan in mind but it was not this. And Heeseung knows that. So he coughs exaggeratedly, catching everyone’s attention. He shares a short look with Heeseung (a bit of a glare as for Sunghoon) and Heeseung makes up a not-so-obvious excuse to get him and Seol-in out of the picture. 

“Oh, Seol-in! I think we forgot to pay for our lunch a while ago,” Good going, Sunghoon thought. “We should head back,” Heeseung pulls a confused Seol-in by the arm.

“I did, though?” Seol-in furrows her brows and rethinks whether she did or not, and she was positive she did.

“We should go to be sure. I didn’t see you pay a while ago,” 

“We can come with you,” You offer, but…

“No!” Sunghoon suddenly shouts, making you jump in surprise, glaring at him. 

“Why?” You question. Are you and Seol-in are the only ones so fucking confused right now? 

“We’re going to be late.” Sunghoon excuses, eyes looking around in hysteria.

“I think we have enough time,” 

“Just go, y/n. Save us some seats,” Seol-in finally jumps on the train, feeling too anxious about leaving the cafeteria without paying for what she ate. 

You hesitantly nod, urging Sunghoon to come, which finally made him sigh in relief. 

“Are you guys okay?” You ask, sitting on your usual seat while Sunghoon took the one next to you. You both save Seol-in and Heeseung seats beside you. “And now you’re also sitting with us?”

“Weren’t we always?” He shakily chuckles, and your suspicion grows bigger. 

“Did you do something wrong to us, perhaps?” 

“My god, no.” He lets out a hearty laugh at your joke, but when he faces you, he was shocked at how serious you were. “No, y/n. Can’t we sit with you guys? We’ll leave if you say so,” 

“No, not that. It’s just that it’s so random. How come?” You rhetorically ask, preparing your materials for the class. You decided to leave it at that, but Sunghoon isn’t done just yet. After a few minutes of dead air, he clears his throat. 

“Do you have classes tomorrow?” He, at last, asks what he has been meaning to since a while ago (read: two days ago, when realizations have hit), and you blink at him. 

“No, why?”

“Plans?” 

“Nope. Stay at home, maybe. Why?” 

“I was thinking…” 

“What?” 

“I, uh…”

“Sunghoon, what?” 

“Oh my god, I can’t.” 

“What, fucking hell, spit it out!” 

“If you’d want to go get dinner with me tomorrow, gosh! I didn’t know you’re so vulgar with your friends!” Sunghoon unintentionally bursts out after the conversation rally, making heads turn. You blink at him once again, and he shrinks in shame. “Sorry,” 

“I thought you didn’t want to be friends?” Out of all the things he said, that’s what you asked. Sunghoon blinks as well, regaining his composure.

“That’s going to cost me a wonderful person now, am I?”

And that one random day, became one day that you treasured more than the others.

D-67.

“You’re supposed to rest, y/n,” Your dad stops you from preparing your outfit to leave, shaking his head. “I told you, if you’re going to go to school five to six times a week, then the last day was supposed to be a rest day.” 

“Dad, it’s just dinner…” You whine, pouting. “Besides, I know what to do and not to do.” 

“Seol-in wouldn’t be there to look over you,” 

“Dad, I’m not some kid needing for someone to look over me,” You sigh, still picking out your clothes anyway. “I know that you’re worried, Dad. Do you think I’ll do something that I know you’ll get more worried about?” 

And when you say that, your father surrenders with a breath of hesitation, and of course, reminding you of some things.

“This wouldn’t be a normal occasion, would it?” He asks to make sure before you head out, holding your arm. You smile at him and nod, “Okay. Be safe, darling. Text me updates and lastly, home at 10PM, sharp. No more, can less.” You chuckle, nodding again before hugging him and taking your leave. 

The diner Sunghoon picked was just a few blocks away, so you opted to walk since you had time to spare. And on the way there, you can’t seem to keep the smile inside. 

“If I didn’t even know I could die any day now, I wouldn’t even think this night would be possible.” You whisper to yourself, pressing your lips together to a tight smile. “Thank you for giving me another day,” You inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a moment and letting your head fall back to look at the night sky. 

Meanwhile, Sunghoon sees you standing there with your neck (almost) broken to take in much of the night sky. He chuckles, jogging to you and from his height, could look down straight at you from your position. 

“Oh, you’re here,” You laugh, your view of him upside down but you could recognize the face in any form or shape. Well, you’ve been in love with him for years. “Sorry, the sky was so pretty,”

Sunghoon looks up as well but the sky bore no anything, just pitch black with not even signs of dark clouds forming, the moon nowhere to be seen and stars hiding due to the city lights. His face contorts into confusion, thinking what made you say that such a pitch black-ed sky was pretty enough for you to thank the lords for another day.

“Let’s head in?” You ask, and when you’ve finally settled to a table with your food, you start to munch down. “What’s with dinner?” 

“Huh?” Sunghoon asks, covering his full mouth. 

“What’s with dinner? Why not breakfast or lunch or just the afternoon out? Are you planning on murdering me on the way back so there’s less people?” Your joke makes Sunghoon choke on his food and you laugh wholeheartedly, even grabbing your chest to keep it on radar. 

“Are you kidding me? Do I look like such a person?” Sunghoon drinks his soda and pats his chest to calm down, glaring at you. 

“I was kidding, loosen up. You just looked nervous, that’s all. That’s why I joked around.” You smiled cheekily, scrunching your nose at him. “Unless…” 

“Hey!” Sunghoon stops you and you have another round of laughter, shaking your spoon at him. He shakes you off and when you’ve calmed down, “I just thought breakfast would seem too eager, a lunch too usual, an afternoon out with what? Cafe’s? When you don’t even drink coffee?”

Your movements slow when you hear that, hearing your own heartbeat right in your ears. You take in a whole two breaths to calm down, even swallowing the non-existent lump on your throat.

“You remember that?” 

“You said that like, four days ago. I’m not that stupid,” He shakes it off as if it wasn’t a big deal for him to remember, but as you dwell on it, you only said that like it was a passing sentence, just one of the many you’ve dropped that day. “Did I remember wrong?” He stops eating and looks at you with wide eyes, anxiety evident in it. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, you absolutely remembered right,” You finally continue eating as he sighs in relief, delving into his own food. 

“Why don’t you drink coffee though? I think you’re the first one I know that doesn’t,” 

“Ah…” You hesitate whether to tell him or not, so to not ruin the mood, you just carry on with no intentions of telling him. “Just don’t like the bitter taste,” 

Sunghoon nods in approval, and the dinner continues with light conversations and hearty laughs, clueless about the night deepening outside the windows. 

“Thank you for tonight, Sunghoon. I don’t know what’s gotten to you for you to suddenly offer dinner but it sure did make my night,” You chuckle, waving goodbye as you stood right in front of your porch. “You should go, be safe. Text me when you arrive so I know and that I wouldn’t be suspected for murder if you’re found dead,” 

“Hey, knock on wood!” He points and whines at you, but soon a chuckle still leaves his lips. 

“Fine, fine.” You coo him, knocking on the wood on your porch and then patting him on the shoulder. “You should really go now,”

“You head in first. I’ll go when I see you come in safely,” He nods at you, smiling. “Thank you as well, y/n.” 

You smile, and you think you won’t stop pushing and pulling if you don’t put a stop to it now, chuckling, nodding then finally turning your back at him.

“Uh, y/n,” He calls out once again and you turn curiously, raising your brows. Sunghoon looks fidgety, unable to meet your eyes and chest heaving up and down heavily. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” You step closer, taking a good look at him. “Do you want to head in for a glass of water first? You’re going to drive. I can’t let you leave like that.” 

“Your offer.” He starts, grabbing your arm and then finally staring right through your eyes softly. 

“Huh?”

“Can I still take it?” 

“What the hell are you on about?” 

“Being your boyfriend for a month. You offered that to me a few weeks ago, right? Can I still take it?” He speaks faster than normal, but it was all clear to you. It rang through your ears along with the beat of your heart, through the gush of the wind, and the almost inevident, almost whispers of the neighbors enjoying the last hours of the night in their own homes. “Can I still be your boyfriend for a month?” 

D-65. 

To taste your own medicine was a punch in the face. You’ll never even guess or dare think that you’ll be able to get this far. You knew your idea was ridiculous, you didn’t know that Sunghoon agreeing to it would be more ridiculous. You can’t even explain into words how your life has been quiet, full of restraints due to your illness, and now, you’ve gotten yourself into so much trouble that you can’t back down. 

Because why the hell was Sunghoon standing on your porch at five fifty-six in the morning? 

“Who’s this gentleman?” Your father, who has, let me emphasize, had never ever missed a day driving you to school, questioned when he got surprised after opening the door. He eyes you after Sunghoon eyes you, waiting for an answer. 

“Ah…” You chuckle nervously, scratching your head. “Sunghoon, my dad. Dad…” You crane your neck, thinking of an introduction. “Sunghoon, just a good friend.” You give your dad a tight-lipped smile, and then turn to Sunghoon. “What are you doing here, good friend?” You give him a glare secretly, turning away from your dad. 

“Sir, good morning.” Sunghoon smiles and reaches his hand out for your dad to shake, “I’m here this early in the morning to get your permission, sir.” Your dad cranes his neck curiously, shooting you and Sunghoon curious looks. “I wanted to take your daughter to school today, so I waited for an hour,” He smiles, and your dad shakes his hand. 

Your dad takes a minute to think and answer, because all he knew to do in the morning was to take you to school because of his overflowing concern for his only daughter. 

“I’ll get her there safe and sound, you don’t need to worry,” He claps his hand to show his car, smiling nervously. You stood there unmoving, staring at Sunghoon weirdly. 

“Dad, it’s okay, he was the one who drove me home last night,” Your dad grows suspicious and you regret saying that, making his eyebrows meet in the middle.

“You’re the one my daughter met alone last night for dinner?” You sigh in irritation, massaging your temples. 

Sunghoon nods and his hands come together to fumble badly, and you can see it glistening from the formed sweat of nervousness. 

“Okay, then,” Your head whips to your dad in question, confirming it. “I’ll pick you up later,” 

“Uh, actually, I can do that too,” Sunghoon smiles at your father, this time around unnerved, “And I can do that for the following days as well,”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you internally sigh, eyes closing tightly. You never knew the game you started was this dangerous.

“Your father agreed.” Sunghoon smiles but keeps his eyes on the road, giddy. 

“When you corner him like that he’ll have no choice but to, am I wrong?” You sigh, “Sunghoon, you don't need to.”

“I want to. Plus, it's just for a month.” He glances at you and then his eyes were back on the road, but you don't meet his eyes. “What's wrong? Didn't you ask for this?” He chuckles nervously, afraid that he might've crossed the line. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m worried that you're uncomfortable.” You quickly retort, perking on your seat. “I know I said things, asked things. It was ridiculous, Sunghoon. You know it is, so why are you doing this?”

Sunghoon puts his car on hazard, unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to look at you. 

“You know what, it is ridiculous.” He chuckles, “But it was interesting. You're interesting. How come you only want the Park Sunghoon for a month, right?” He quotes and unquotes, “I want it. I want to do it because you're interesting. No jokes included.” He grabs your hand and pats it. And you share a thoughtful gaze right through each other's orbs for a minute before he sharply inhales. “Now, we have to get going before we're late for anatomy,” 

D+1.

“Your lunch,” Before you even get to order your lunch for today with Seol-in, Sunghoon places a iunchbox neatly in front of you. “I prepared those,” You look at him curiously and he nods at you to open it, and it reveals your usual palate and diet, fruits and vegetables. It takes you a while how Sunghoon had known you always ate these, and once again, your heartbeat rang through your ears. You were glowing faint red, and it makes Sunghoon nervous. “Why? Don't you like these?”

“How did you know?” Seol-in raises her eyebrows at Sunghoon, and he immediately refutes.

“No… I just… uh, always saw her with these, so I assumed…” He mumbles bad, and Heeseung breaks into laughter. Sunghoon looks at him with a look of help, trying to excuse himself out of the situation.

“I think everybody noticed, y/n. Don't think too much of it,” Heeseung shakes his hand in front of you lightheartedly, and you just nod.

“Thank you,” You smile at Sunghoon, preparing to dive in to the lunch he gave you. Sunghoon plops in front of you as Seol-in and Heeseung goes off to buy their own. You look at Sunghoon who opens his own, and your mouth agape when you realize you have the same content. He notices this and smiles at you, patting your hand. 

“I just thought you'd feel pressured and uncomfortable eating that alone,” He explains, and then takes a bite of his cucumber.

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” And words were never enough to express how grateful and seen you were. Especially from the man himself you liked. Especially when you take a greater look of the fruits and vegetables so delicately cut with others cut like flowers and others just with design. 

D+3.

“Are you free the day after tomorrow?” Sunghoon grabs the books you hugged as you made your way to his car, the sun setting which signaled your dismissal.

“I have one class in the morning and nothing to do after that, why?” 

“Perfect. Let’s go on a date.” 

You stop on your tracks, clutching your chest as you numbered your breaths, even wobbling in your position. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Sunghoon runs up to you and grabs your arms, crouching down to see you better. Your eyes meet and you nod, giving him a small smile. “Don’t scare me like that,” 

“Then don’t say things like that out of the blue,” You lightly hit his shoulder, chuckling. Your chest still stings but mildly bearable, so you start walking slowly and Sunghoon matches your pace. 

“Okay, sorry. I’ll ask your dad for permission later though.” He giggles, and he opens the passenger’s seat door for you and even covers the top of the lining of the car to protect your head from bumping on it. “Where do you want to go? Amusement parks? Zoo? Aquarium? Tell me,” 

Sunghoon pops in his seat and starts his car, oftenly glancing at you. 

“Anywhere with you, Hoon.”

D+4.

“Surprise!” You habitually grab your chest to calm yourself down, grabbing onto the next thing, rather person, next to you, Seol-in. She reaches for your back and rubs it looking at you worriedly. “Sorry, are you bad with surprises?” Sunghoon grabs your arm to properly stand you up, scratching his head. 

Seol-in almost lectures him but you stop her, shaking your head.

“She is. Very bad. So don’t do it again,” Seol-in shortens, and then looks at you worriedly again. You squeeze her arm to assure her, giving her a side hug before bidding goodbye.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon gets your bag slinging from your shoulders and slings it to his. “I didn’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” You smile at him. “You didn’t know.” 

D+6.

Sunghoon, with his arm held out, bore a bouquet of sweet heliotropes, your favorite flower.

“Oh my god,” You exclaim, gently getting it off his hands for you to admire more closely. “Heliotropes?” Of course you’ll recognize your favorite flowers. But just to be sure, you turn to Sunghoon and he nods with a smile. “These are so hard to find! Where did you get this?” 

“I have my ways,” And Sunghoon won’t just simply admit he drove fifty miles away just for the flowers you liked, checking flower shop by flower shop to see if it had them. 

“And you knew these were my favorite, how?” You didn’t bat him a glance with your eyes glued on the flowers, touching every flower with your index finger gently. 

“I asked Seol-in,” Sunghoon admires how you admired the flowers, and how you were so casually dressed (which he had reminded you about) but so enticing to see. Everything around you and you screamed exuberantly, and Sunghoon was quite regretful how he had managed to ignore and have unknown of your existence after all these years. Yet, he was also quite happy. He's a lucky man who’s got to experience it now, thinking, it’s better late than never.

“So, where are we going?” 

“That’s a secret.” Sunghoon teasingly raises his eyebrows repeatedly before honking courtesy to your dad waiting for him to drive off, worry unetched from his face unlike the first time Sunghoon drove you off.  “You can guess though. I’ll tell you if you’re right.” 

“That throws excitement out of the bus.” You shake your head. “But the aquarium. I love fishes and maybe Seol-in told you that too,” He laughs out loud when you guess anyway, making you giggle. 

“I wouldn’t tell. It’ll throw excitement out of the bus,” Sunghoon quotes you, booping your nose for a second before turning back to face the road again. “Brace yourself. It’s going to be quite a long ride.” 

You nod curiously, thinking of places where you can go out of the radar until you’ve drifted off to sleep. 

You’re awoken with your seat leaned back, seatbelt undone and Sunghoon’s jacket draped over your body. You quickly rise and look for Sunghoon beside you, but he isn't there. Only do you take a good look outside, and your jaw drops open. 

“Oh my god,” It feels like you’re in a story book of a fairytale, feeling every step of yours slowly and every second in time reeling in. “Sunghoon…” You step closer to Sunghoon, back on you as he admires the view in front of you. 

The soft grass tickled your legs and Sunghoon’s hand slowly warmed your hand as he held you tight beside him, the breeze passing through you as you held onto Sunghoon’s jacket on your body with your other, and the amazingly breathtaking view of the almost grassy volcano in front of you. It emitted a picture-perfect scene that you thank the gods for a perfect day that the clouds did not cover almost half of it, fog forming on top of it that it was just so immaculate to the eyes. 

“Do you like it?” Sunghoon turns to you like the view in front of him wasn’t enough he had to turn to you.

“...Like it?” You were able to utter out, head turning to him as your eyes followed. “I love it so much that I can’t… breathe, Sunghoon.” You were holding your tears, unable to grasp your chest to stabilize your breathing because of your busy hands.

Sunghoon just laughs and takes it as a light joke, pressing his lips and grabbing your shoulders softly to turn you to face him. He stares at you for a few more moments before his hands drop to hold yours, rubbing it with his thumb. 

“Sunghoon… I can’t breathe,” Your tears finally left your eyes, seeming never ending as you feel everything you needed to feel a little… more. Your blood rushing, the goosebumps you’re having a little too uncomfortable to have, the grass now too prickly to your skin, your tears a bit more wet, breeze too cold for your liking, his palms too warm and rough from the calluses he had, your heart thumping a little too hard and his eyes a little less intimidating… in time which is the one that served as your oxygen that calms you down. So you tug his hands softly and swiftly bring your arms around his shoulders, leaning in for a hug. “Thank you, Sunghoon. It’s beautiful.” 

Sunghoon smiles as he brings his arms up to hug you back, feeling his hand rub your back to calm you down.

“I didn’t even dare think I’d see this up close this lifetime,” You explain, smiling at him with your face damp with tears. “Thank you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I’ll ever say those words enough.” 

Sunghoon sighs in relief and holds your hand, smugly turning to the view in front of him and so do you. 

“Well, aren't Seol-in and your dad such great sources? I think I’m getting to know you half better because of them,” He chuckles, and you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“Dad told you about here?” 

“He did. I asked. He said he isn’t able to get you here because he was too much of a coward to do so, which I have no idea why he said that.” He shrugs, and you hold your head down. You knew your father was afraid that you were going to feel extreme emotions just like how you did a few minutes ago, and that he would absolutely have no idea what to do if it happens. So he just avoids it and decides to never bring you here himself. 

It wasn’t on his year's bingo card for Sunghoon to show up and do everything with you that he was scared to do. You know that he probably thinks— if he didn’t know you were sick, will he be able to do the things Sunghoon is able to do for you, for his only daughter? Will he be able to take you to places you liked, wanted to go, let you eat whatever you wanted to, let you do whatever you wanted to do? 

If he had the choice, he would let you. But he doesn’t. And you don’t. 

“What are you thinking so deeply about?” Sunghoon slightly shakes your intertwined hands, getting your attention from the scenery before you. 

“How I should relieve this view every morning. So I’m memorizing every bit like a painting,” You explain, nudging his side.

“Shouldn’t you be getting me in the view then?” He shakes your hand off softly before he poses in front of you cheekily, striking random ones which make you laugh. “Your handsome boyfriend brought you here, so—”

“I already memorized each of your features, Sunghoon. You don’t need to do that,” You grab his hand to hold once again, and this time around, it was Sunghoon’s turn to feel flustered. “Oh, you’re getting red!” You point at his face, and it makes you hold your tummy to laugh aloud. Sunghoon turns around with ihs back on you to compose himself, feeling blood stay in his face and ears for a good half an hour every time he remembers what you said. 

—

“Is that a church? Can we drop by for a second?” You turn to Sunghoon, who instantly nods at you. “You can stay here if you want. I’ll be here in a flash.”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with.” Sunghoon turns the engine off and heads out to open your door as you prepare your bag once again, thanking him after you made your way out and habitually intertwining your hands. 

There was no mass ceremony so there were less people inside, immediately finding a spot to sit on and pray silently.

You put your hands together and close your eyes, whispering your prayers silently. After a few minutes, you inhale sharply and exhale deeply, opening your eyes after it. 

“What were you praying so intently for?” Sunghoon asks, brushing the stray hair behind your ear.

“For giving me another day. And with you,” You smile at him, squeezing his hand. “You? Did you pray for anything or you just watched me with those eyes?” You nod at him and pointed out how you felt his sweet eyes on you even with your eyes closed.

“I made a promise that I’ll always find a way to you since you seem so close to Him,” Sunghoon rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, playfully raising his eyebrows at you. “And since you thanked him for giving you another day, I thanked him for letting me have you.” 

“Liar. I didn’t even see you close your eyes for a second,” 

“You don’t need to close your eyes to pray!” 

“Stop lying in front of the church, Sunghoon,” 

D+12.

Sunghoon twists and turns in his seat to catch a glimpse of you, but you were nowhere to be found. Neither was your loud bestfriend. It was so bad that he had been kicked out of his first class that he was taking with you, checking and checking his phone if you had sent any text that you were going to skip class today. There was none. 

“Maybe she just forgot. For now, focus on your next class,” Heeseung pats his friend’s shoulder, growing concerned not only for his friend but also for you. 

”Y/n never forgets to update me, Heeseung.” Sunghoon’s leg was continuously bouncing in nervousness, “Do you think she’s sick? Should I go visit her? Should I go to their house later?” His grip on his phone was deathly, and Heeseung could feel it through his white knuckles.

Heeseung sighs and gets his phone from him, and shakes his head. 

“Let’s just go find Seol-in first and ask her. We’ve got our last class with her so maybe she knows. It’ll be dark by then. So if we still don’t know until tomorrow, then call her dad.” Heeseung talks him out of it and assures him temporarily for the day. 

It’s okay, he thinks. At least he knows you didn’t fight and ended the day before with bad terms. 

The day ended without him having to see Seol-in to ask where you are, the loud friend being absent as well. 

D+13

Sunghoon now can’t stay still and cannot be brainwashed by Heeseung now that you’re not attending school the second day around. You haven’t contacted him at all and he grows scared whether everything was just a fever dream he had, itching to go to your house when he gets a glimpse of your friend scrambling to get her things in a rush and go home. 

“Seol-in, Seol-in!” He shouts through the hallway, but Seol-in feigns ignorance and goes her way quickly. But Sunghoon was too worried that he pushes through the crowd to catch Seol-in by the arm. 

“Seol-in. Do you have any idea what the fuck y/n has been up to? She’s not answering my calls,” Sunghoon turns Seol-in who had a tight smile on, itching to leave right that second. “Her dad, too.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…” Seol-in shakes her head, “Maybe they went on a vacation?” 

“And you think she forgot to tell me?” Sunghoon was now fuming, his grip on Seol-in arm tightening for her to squirm.

“Sunghoon, you’re hurting Seol-in,” Heeseung stops him and yanks his arm away from Seol-in. “Could you please just tell y/n to talk to Sunghoon if you got some kind of contact with her? Please,” 

“I will. Don’t worry. I have to go,” Seol-in nods at them before she scurries off, heading straight to your house to help around. 

You were on a bed rest for the whole day, wrapped in your soft sheets with people seemingly pushing past you and tending to you every second you could count, patting your sweat away, fanning you, and asking you every possible minute if you were okay. 

“Y/n! Are you okay now?!” Seol-in bursts through the door as he pouts at you looking at your state, plopping on your side to give you a hug.

“I can’t breathe enough because of these sheets suffocating me. Get off,” You chuckle, pushing her off. “Could you take my mask off please,” You groan at Seol-in and she shakes her head at you, tightening your oxygen mask on your head. “Oh please, I’m over the attack now. Just get it off,” Seol-in hesitantly takes it off and fans you and you immediately breathe in comfortably, mumbling a small thanks.

After briefing you about your missed activities, she sighs and packs her notebooks back to her bag, preparing to leave. 

“Say it. You’ve been keeping it all night.” You poke her sides, making her glare at you. 

“Sunghoon. You know he’s worried.” 

“Oh is he now?” You steady your breathing, swallowing the lump on your throat. 

“Send him a short text. He almost ripped me to pieces asking where you were a while ago.” You sigh and smile reluctantly, nodding. You bid her goodbye after it and as the door closes after her, it opens once again.

“Dad.” You smile, almost putting your oxygen mask back before he shakes his hand. 

“If you’re okay then you don’t need to put it back on,” He chuckles, then busies himself with your bedside table. “Do you need anything, perhaps?” Your dad slowly takes a seat beside you where Seol-in was, tucking you properly in your sheets once more. When he sees you shake your head, it takes more minutes for him to start another conversation. “Sunghoon… my dear, he still doesn’t know?” 

You sigh for the nth time, knowing where this conversation might end just well. 

“He doesn’t need to know, dad.” You give him a tight smile, fiddling with your fingers. “I don’t see the reason why I should tell him.” 

“Dear… He’s your beloved, isn’t he?” He takes your hand to stop you from wounding it, patting it. “I think it will be best if he knows. So you can cherish more of your time together.” 

“Dad.” You stop him from going further, shaking your head. “I am cherishing it. But I can’t be greedy, can I? I want to… let him carry on without thinking about me.” Your dad nods not in agreement but for the sake of ending the conversation he started, letting you have the last word. 

If you think that’s what’s best for the both of you, then that’s that. 

D+15

“Y/n!” Sunghoon runs to you with such worry, grabbing your shoulders and looking everywhere in your body to see if you were hurt. To him, you absolutely looked pretty, yes, again, ever did you do look, but you were noticeably paler, skinnier, and black bags rested under your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Sunghoon, hi.” You smile cheekily, clinging to his arm. “Of course I am, do I look like I’m not?” Of course you knew you looked different day by day.

“What the hell happened? How come I wasn’t able to contact you or your dad? When I went to your house, your housekeeper said that you weren’t around! Seol-in doesn’t even know where you were as well!” Sunghoon softly shakes you off his arm, taking another closer look at you with furrowed eyebrows. 

You chuckle, letting him do whatever he wants as you straighten his eyebrows out, to un-forrow it. 

“Please don’t be mad. There was just an emergency we had to go to, and we didn’t have the time for our phones. I’m sorry,” You mumble, smiling at him. 

Sunghoon sighs in defeat as finally all the concern left his body, but also the energy he had for today. Everything he needed was right in front of him, and classes weren't in his choices to enjoy today since you were finally back in his arms where you rightfully were.

“That’s okay, you can make it up to me today,” Sunghoon slyly smiles at you and knowing him, an idea was brewing inside his mind right that moment. 

“What the hell are you thinking of doing, Hoon?” You chuckle, poking his dimple that was showing. 

“Let’s skip classes.” 

D+17

“Heeseung, hi.” You knock on the door of their classroom hideout, peeking inside.

“Oh, y/n!” He jumps out of his beanbag, welcoming you in. “What brings you here?” He rubs his palm against his pants and tucks it in his behind pockets. 

“I was wondering where Sunghoon was and if you knew. We shared a class just now but he wasn’t there and it wasn’t like him to skip without telling me…” You embarrassingly shifted around and let your eyes stay on the ground.

“Ah… Uh…” Heeseung scratches his head and is hesitant to tell you anything, but he does anyway. “He went to the hospital.”

“What? Why? Is he hurt?” You suddenly meet his eyes but he immediately calms you down, shaking his head. 

“Don’t worry! He’s not hurt or anything, he was just asked to visit someone there. He’ll be around tomorrow, I guess.” Heeseung smiles at you assuringly before you excuse yourself, sending him a quick text to stay wherever he was. 

D+18

He wasn’t around unlike what Heeseung had said. And you were growing worried. 

You think, was this how Sunghoon worried over you when you were barely to be contacted and no one he knew where you were?

“Stop worrying so much, y/n…” Seol-in stops your leg from bouncing and asks you to calm your breathing. You follow her lead, nodding at her. “Didn’t Heeseung say he was only visiting someone? And didn’t Sunghoon send you a text saying not to worry? So don’t. Y/n…” Seol-in suppresses her own concern about you and tries to talk you out of it. “...you’re getting weaker day by day. Can’t you just… stay at home now? And about Sunghoon…” 

“Seol-in,” You voice out, “I’m okay. I know when I should be staying at home.” You smile at her, and tears leave her eyes at the sudden realization of things. Of how you were slowly, perfectly, surely of living the last of your best lives, letting you do whatever you want because she knows that you will know for sure what to do in any given situation. 

She trusts you over herself. 

D+19

“Sunghoon’s still not around?” Your eyes were busy as you looked around the classroom, not seeing the pretty head you have always admired from afar. 

“I guess…” You mumble, pouting. Your phone buzzes and you read the message sent to you almost too immediately, pout only growing worse at the text you received. “He said he’ll stay in the hospital for today too…” 

You suck it up and force a smile, sending him a text back and putting your phone down. 

Suddenly, your head grows heavy and your visions double and blur, feeling your body fall weak and harshly to the ground with a commotion. Before you black out completely, you hear Seol-in’s desperate cries for you and for help.

—

Your eyes twitch uncomfortably when you open it slightly to a bright room, feeling your breathing cycle once again almost too much. You remove your oxygen mask and realize where you were, at the campus clinic with Seol-in and Heeseung beside you.

“Oh… I must’ve been fatigued last night…” You excuse, smiling at Heeseung. But he doesn’t budge, the same worried face as Seol-in etched on his face. “What? First time seeing a grown woman faint?” You joke around, and Seol-in bursts into tears once again.

“I know already, y/n, you can stop pretending,” Heeseung mumbles softly, gaining you an apologetic face afterward. You glance at Seol-in, sighing. 

At this very moment, like with any other person who suddenly knows your condition, is the very moment and only moment you don’t know what to do.

What, are you supposed to console other people about yourself having a terminal condition?

“Heeseung, please don’t tell Sunghoon.” Heeseung didn’t need any more explanation than that. If you didn’t want him to know, then it’s not his place to tell so. And suddenly for Heeseung, everything clicks.

From how you’re suddenly asking Sunghoon to be your boyfriend, and apart from all that, only for a month, to how you’re drastically changing which he didn’t pay no mind at all unless Sunghoon has taken notice of it, and why you were out of Sunghoon’s, or any other’s radar for almost three days last week. 

So he just nods, because that’s what you needed right now. For everyone to just do what you say, do what you want. As long as Sunghoon is kept in the dark of your condition. 

D+20

“Y/n, can we go somewhere?” Heeseung offers, opening his car for you to ride on. You curiously just followed his lead, staying quiet throughout the ride as you stared outside and watched the sun set. 

“Why? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?” You question, unbuckling your seatbelt. Heeseung stays quiet but leads you to a ward, opening it to reveal a woman in her early twenties, back of her skull facing towards you so you had no idea who she was. 

Heeseung lets you in as you slowly and unsurely move to the side to see who she was.

“Chung-ah…” You mumble, and your eyes blink rapidly. 

Chung-ah doesn’t look like what she always did, smiling and healthily making her way around the campus with a bright energy. On the hospital bed, tubes were connected throughout her body and ventilations were even needed to help her breathe continuously. 

“Why…” Your chest was breathing heavily and you were trying hard to stabilize it, but tears were already forming in your eyes as you put two and two together. 

“She was the reason why Sunghoon had been skipping his classes, y/n.” Heeseung explains calmly, already feeling apologetic toward you. Because it wasn’t right.

Although you and Sunghoon had agreed to only be together for a month, it wasn’t right for Sunghoon to be hiding the fact that he was visiting and taking care of his ex-girlfriend for days now, and keeping it from you even though she was sick.

Especially when you were fighting your own battles too. And with that, alone. 

“This is why… she broke up with him.” You conclude, and you finally let out a sob, waking the said character up groggily. 

“Y/n…” She mumbles through the mask, trying to force herself to smile. “It’s nice to meet you. It’s a shame we didn’t meet any sooner,” She managed to voice out, having heavy breaths between words to keep up with her own sentences. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you all confused about Sunghoon again. I can see he’s happier now… but my mom…” 

“Chung-ah…” You call for her to stop, followed by your sobs and your shaking of head. To think that they broke up only because Chung-ah didn’t want him to be heart broken by the fact that she’s merely holding on to life, and the only thing, only one that can lengthen her life, was to be kept happy by the people she loves. 

Just like you, she didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable with her just because she was. She didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable just for her to selfishly wake up in the morning for another day. She didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable staying by her side just for her to simply live.

You didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable just for you to selfishly leave him alone in the end, after all. 

Heeseung follows you out of the room as you clench your chest that bore so much pain for the decision you had to make, uncontrollably sobbing and continuously wiping endless tears from your face. You had to hold on to life to the wall beside you to keep you standing, audibly and physically showing your pain and your torment for everybody— Chung-ah, Sunghoon, and for yourself too. 

“Y/n?” You hear Sunghoon’s voice from five meters away and you meet his eyes at once, his full of skepticism and distress and yours… unimaginable pain. And Sunghoon can see it.

He mumbles something under his breath before stomping his way to Heeseung behind you and striking him right on the face, making a commotion as you held him back. 

“Sunghoon, no, please…”

“Bastard! Why the hell would you bring y/n in here?!” Sunghoon, red from anger continued to dote on Heeseung who annoyingly smirked at him, keeping his composure. 

“What, were you planning on keeping it from y/n? For how long, you sick bastard? That’s your fucking ex inside! What about y/n?!” Heeseung fights back with a tight jaw, fist tightening holding back to landing a punch back on his friend.

“Heeseung…” 

“Fuck you, Heeseung! Chung-ah’s sick! Mind your fucking words you piece of shit!” Sunghoon attempts to give him another strike but you take a hold of his clenched fist, facing Sunghoon with tears still falling in your eyes.

“Sunghoon,”

“And y/n?” Heeseung starts, but you quickly turn to him to desperately ask him to stop there. Heeseung holds back and opts to leave the scene first, intentionally bumping Sunghoon’s shoulder harshly before he’s off.

“Sunghoon, can we talk?” You smile tightly, squeezing his hand assuringly. 

You’ve got nowhere else private to go but the chapel inside the hospital meant for desperate patients and families to turn towards in times of anguish, at this time in the night no one else able to use it to spend time with each other. 

You were just staring in front, sniffing here and there but no other words were undone between you, and beside you, unlike you, Sunghoon was looking down on his hands fiddling with each other. 

“Chung-ah broke up with you because she didn’t want you to feel miserable with her, Hoon.” You start, and as if on cue, tears started forming in your eyes once again. “Not because she didn’t love you anymore.” 

Sunghoon stays quiet and unmoving, and you take it as a signal to continue. 

“Chung-ah… I heard from Heeseung that she’s only to live more if she’s filled and surrounded by people she loves.” This time, you look up to stop your tears from falling, and from being a sobbing mess all over again. 

But it was too late.

“What are you trying to say, y/n?” Sunghoon softly mumbles, finally having the guts to face you. He grabs your hands and kneels before you, but you’re unable to meet his eyes. 

“I’m saying that… you… Park Sunghoon, should stay with her.” You smile between cries and sobs, and Sunghoon’s face drops in shock. And as unbelievable as it was, Sunghoon’s eyes were also sparkling in sadness when he heard what you were saying. 

“I don’t want to,” 

“Sunghoon… have you seen Chung-ah?”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to! The only reason why I’ve been staying here for days is because her mother was begging me, y/n. Please believe me,” 

“I do, will always do, Sunghoon.” Your lips were trembling from all the crying you were doing but you didn’t miss the way a tear fell down from Sunghoon’s eyes the first time, and then followed by many others. You raise your palm to his cheeks to wipe it away, shaking your head. 

“Then why are you doing this, y/n… Come on…” Sunghoon also shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening but not enough to hurt you. Enough only to make you feel that the situation was hurting him too. 

“Because Chung-ah needs you and your love, too,” 

“But I don’t love her, y/n! I love you! I… love you, y/n. Don’t you love me too?” Sunghoon becomes weak before your eyes as his voice softens and tries his best reaching the sincerity to you and for you to embrace it.

“God,” You let out a genuine snort, throwing your head back and then looking at the said god in front of you, dropping a few more tears before cupping Sunghoon’s cheeks for his eyes to meet yours from his position. “I love you so much you have no idea, Park Sunghoon,” You smile at him, scrunching your nose at him. “...But our love is not enough this time, Sunghoon. Chung-ah needs you. It wouldn’t be hard to love someone the second time around, would it?” 

Sunghoon drops his head on your knees and you hear him sob helplessly, because he knows you were right. He knows that staying with you, is leaving Chung-ah good as dead. 

“Twenty days. You gave me twenty days full of nothing but your love that I promise to keep for my whole life, Sunghoon.” You rub his head sweetly before making him stretch his head out to meet your eyes once more, maybe, for the last time. “Twenty days for you, Sunghoon. You gave me twenty days from your lifetime… but you gave me forever with it,” You smile reassuringly, and then stare at each other’s eyes deeply. Crying for each other, sobs echoed through the chapel until you were finally ready to go. “I love you, Sunghoon. So much,”

You wiped Sunghoon’s tears away once more before leaving a kiss on his forehead, letting it stay there for a few seconds to cherish it, and then gently patting his cheeks before standing up and making your leave, hearing his desperate cries to try and make you stay.

But you don’t look back. 

God, you can’t look back because if you did, even to catch a glimpse of him for a second— to see him still kneeling in the same place, face damp and flushed from all of the crying he did, wailing as his hands can’t find the guts to hold your warm hands back to stay with him— you knew you were going to run back in his arms and tell him that you loved him, and that you needed him too. 

Because if you looked back and ran back to him, it was to end Chung-ah's life then and there.

D-64.

Sunghoon twists and turns in his seat, unable to stay still which inevitably wakes Chung-Ah up. She watches him for a few minutes until until he took notice, smiling apologetically 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Sunghoon asks, propping his elbows on his knees to be closer to Chung-ah. 

She takes a closer good look at Sunghoon— puffy red eyes, dark bags underneath, bruised lips from yesterday when he met up with Heeseung to ask about you and your whereabouts, only to be faced with no answer but a punch in the face, pale skin, paler than he had always been. He had also not been eating a lot, talking a lot— but he had obviously been trying his best to look and feel okay since he had someone beside him having it a lot worse than he could imagine.

“Sunghoon…” She smiles, asking for his hand to hold. For Sunghoon, it had felt like he was touched by a cold feather, 

“Sorry, I can’t sleep on the couch and I certainly cannot sleep here. I wanted to get some fresh air but I couldn’t leave you alone.” He explains, rubbing his thumb on her palm. Chung-ah lifelessly shakes her head, patting Sunghoon’s hand. “Do you need something? Water?” 

“No, Sunghoon. Thank you,” She mumbles out, chuckling. It takes Chung-ah a few minutes to gather her strength for talking, inhaling in and out as Sunghoon patiently waits. “You know… when y/n came here, I didn’t even get to say anything.” 

Sunghoon was taken aback, surprised that Chung-ah had opened this topic up and knowing that she heard everything outside her door that day. 

“...I didn’t tell her anything about us. Nor Heeseung— nor anyone in the school why I broke up with you. So I was surprised when… she knew.” Chung-ah closes her eyes to reminisce, remembering your cries and your eyes that had realized what was coming for her. It breaks her as well too, because she understood well just how you were feeling. “She instantly knew why I had to break it off with you, why I had to choose you and not me, for us.” 

“Chung-ah…” Sunghoon tried to stop her by shushing her, wanting for her to save up the energy for anything else, not by explaining to him. He had already understood you, and he had already accepted it. 

“I don’t know if it’s a girl to girl thing, but still I wanted to say this since I didn’t get to say it to her.” Chung-ah continues anyway, wanting to let Sunghoon hear what she wants to say.

“Chung-ah, you can stop. Save your energy. Y/n… she made me understand everything, so you don’t need to.” 

“No, Sunghoon. If you did, you’re not supposed to be here, then.” She smiles softly, and Sunghoon could feel how sincere she was so he just nodded at her to continue. “Sunghoon, did you know you burned brighter when you started hanging out with her? Did you know that it was the first time from the ten months we’ve been together, plus a month after we broke up, that I’ve seen you smile so genuinely and look at someone with so much love. I know you loved me, but you just loved her better.” Chung-ah’s smile never leaves her lips, hand holding Sunghoon’s as tight as she can. “Sunghoon, you… don’t need to stay.”

“Chung-ah, we’ve talked about this.” 

“No. You and mom talked about this.” She shakes her head, “Sunghoon, I’ve lived enough,” She sighs, scooting on her bed. “I’ll only be here for a few weeks now, I can’t hold on any longer. I need to… rest,” She looks at Sunghoon once again, grateful and apologetic all in her eyes.

“Then let me just stay with you until you can hold out, Chung-ah. For old time’s sake.” 

D-30.

“They said it was a miracle Chung-ah lasted longer than she was counted up by the doctors, Sunghoon.” Chung-ah’s mom, just like when she begged Sunghoon to stay, was weeping as she held Sunghoon by the hand. “Thank you for staying with her, Sunghoon.” 

“It’s nothing, auntie. Let’s wrap up the documents for the funeral and then let’s bid our last goodbyes to Chung-ah, alright?” Sunghoon had managed to pick himself up everytime he should, in front of Chung-ah and her family. 

Of course, every now and then he tries to look for you, getting gossip that you went radio silent after that day and had not been going to school after that, it had affected him quite a lot to not hear anything about you. 

“I have no idea as well, Sunghoon.” Heeseung sighs as he gets another call from his friend who he had recently reconciled with, mumbling on the phone. “I’m trying to look for her too. So don’t worry, I’ll give you a text as soon as I get an update,” 

“Sunghoon… Sorry, y/n… I think it’s best for you not to look for her,” This time around, Seol-in shakes her head in front of him, after paying a visit at Chung-ah’s funeral. “And you know I can’t say anything if that’s what y/n wants. So I’ll have to keep my mouth shut about it. It’s not my right to say anything,” 

D-7.

“Sunghoon.” Chung-ah’s mother snaps in front of his face to get his attention, as he jumps and suddenly looks around. He was the only one left along with his mother in front of Chung-ah’s burial site, the place filled with white flowers and food Chung-ah loved. “I didn’t know you were here. You should have told me,” She smiles at Sunghoon and places her own bouquet of white flowers beside Sunghoon’s, taking a minute to say her own prayers. “You’ve been here for how long? Can I bother you for some tea?” 

Sunghoon nods and follows her lead after they had paid a visit to Chung-ah, smiling as he rubbed Chung-ah’s frame before he left. 

“Chung-ah… she left a letter before she passed, darling.” Her mother sets her cup of tea in front of her as she opens up her bag to reveal the letter. “I wasn’t ready to open it when she passed, so I only got to open it last night and went here today to talk to her about it. It was a good thing you were there,” She pushes the letter over the table closer to Sunghoon, and explains as Sunghoon reads it.

Tears form in Sunghoon’s eyes as he reads through the letter, the first time he ever was vulnerable in front of Chung-ah’s mother. 

“Chung-ah… she was so sorry that you had to repeat senior year all over again that she asked me to take care of you,” She gets another envelope, a thicker one, and slides it over the table again. “Here’s a little help, Sunghoon.” 

“I don’t need it, auntie.” Sunghoon smiles as he glances at the content, but Chung-ah’s mother insists.

“As Chung-ah says, learn to accept the help you’re receiving.” She smiles, and Sunghoon chuckles and continues to read. “She also says… to help you find the love you had before you knew of her illness,” Sunghoon’s hold on the paper tightens, as he just got to read that part of the paper. He continues, as she continues. “I’m sorry Sunghoon, I didn’t know… but it was for my daughter, so I’m sorry that I don’t regret it at all,” She is so apologetic of her actions that she even bears tears for it, wiping it instantly. “I am a mother, that’s why.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t utter anything but continues to read, his heart thumping a lot heavier than it was.

“But I will help you find her again, Sunghoon. Now, not for me, but for you, Chung-ah, and the girl you loved.” By this time, Sunghoon had placed the letter down after reading every word of it, looking at the woman in front of him with dead eyes. He understood every side, but still, he had missed the girl he loved and is now missing. 

“I promise you I will find her, Sunghoon. I will.” She assures, taking his hands over the table. “Thank you for loving my daughter, Sunghoon. I will always carry it in my heart.”

D-5.

Sunghoon holds his phone tight as he hesitates to contact someone, as clearly sent by Chung-ah’s mother’s through text.

…997… This is y/n’s father’s number. He had it changed over two months ago, and y/n’s number was held by a new owner. I’m sorry, darling. This is all I was given. I’m sure you will be able to contact her father.

His fingers hover over the call button, head pounding and heart beating uncontrollably. 

Does he still get the right to talk to you after he left you? After he had left you for his dying ex? 

Is he still worth something to you? 

D-2.

“Sunghoon, just make the damn call,” Heeseung grows worried at his friend who makes himself hyper focused on his finals for tomorrow, not batting him an eye as he wrote through his notes. “You’ll regret it if you don’t do it sooner, Hoon.” 

“I’ve been regretting not doing everything I can with her, Heeseung. I think I will just have to live with that,” 

Heeseung groans in frustration as he gets Sunghoon’s notes from him to get his attention. 

“Fine.” Heeseung clenches his jaw. “I know where y/n is.” Sunghoon suddenly stands up and furrows his brows, scoffing at his friend. “Before you say anything, y/n didn’t want me to say anything to you, just like Seol-in.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Heeseung?” Sunghoon pushes Heeseung harshly and brushes his hair back in frustration, all the anger building up in him. “Where is she?” 

“Sunghoon.” 

“Where is she?!” 

“I’ll take you to her once you successfully finish your last exam tomorrow, Hoon. And after you get permission from his dad.” Heeseung places his notes back down on his table and opens his phone on the contact his fingers have been hovering over for a day already. “Call me once you do. Then I’ll take you to her in an instant.” 

Heeseung turns around to make his leave, but Sunghoon stops him with his sob.

“Is y/n… okay?” He sobs out, chest heavy with all the questions he bore in mind since the day he last saw you.

“Y/n…” Heeseung sighs, “...just take your exam and text her father fast, Sunghoon.” And with that, Heeseung closes the door behind him to avoid more of his friend’s questions and to avoid making Sunghoon see that he was also on the verge of crying, too. 

D-1.

“He said… I can visit tomorrow,” Sunghoon shows your father’s text to Heeseung, as Heeseung sighs. He nods at Sunghoon and pats his shoulder, giving him a smile. 

“Pack your things, then. We’ll drive in a few hours. It’s a long one,” Heeseung tears up at the thought, proud of his friend but also ready for everything happening the next day. He calls up Seol-in to update her and she asks him to brief Sunghoon up on the way there.

But seeing Sunghoon happy and giddy and jumpy… broke him. He runs out of Sunghoon’s apartment to calm himself down, leaving Sunghoon confused but he packs with a smile anyway. He sees himself on the rooftop, cursing the gods for what fate has brought you two. He thinks, since he was on the rooftop and was shouting, he’ll be able to relay his message clearer and louder. 

Because how come you’ve only lasted this long until Sunghoon has come back to you? 

The friend he made along with Sunghoon— how come you were leaving them? 

He breaks down on the rooftop, his cries unheard— closer to the heavens than to any other person on the ground. Once he had calmed down, he made his way back to Sunghoon’s flat, seeing he had already packed up… a lot. 

“Where have you been?” Sunghoon smiles at him giddily, presenting his packed things. “I didn’t know what to pack since you didn’t say anything else, so I packed nearly everything.” 

Heeseung makes his way around Sunghoon’s things when he realizes he packed many useless things, such as the jacket he was meant to give you, necklaces he meant to give you, everything he meant to give you. Whether it was packed food, clothes– everything. 

“Sunghoon…” He mumbles, tears starting to well up again. “...you don’t need to bring these.” 

“Why? I have to give all those to y/n!” He pouts at Heeseung and shoos him away, double checking his things. 

“You don’t need to, Sunghoon. Just bring some clothes, and yourself.” But Sunghoon doesn’t listen, so it ticks Heeseung off. “I said you don’t need to, Sunghoon!” 

Sunghoon stops as he looks at Heeseung weirdly, sighing.

“What the hell? Why are you being aggressive and why the hell are you crying?” Sunghoon questions as he steps closer to his friend, scrunching his forehead and sensing that there’s something definitely wrong going on. “What is it?”

“Get your packed clothes, and let’s go.” Heeseung wipes his tears away and gets his keys, leaving Sunghoon once again to walk first to his car. 

“Can you just tell me what the hell’s going on?” Sunghoon feels something unpleasant down in his chest since Heeseung was continuously crying and not uttering a word, an hour in through their drive and only with a bag of clothes behind them. “That I didn’t even need to bring what I got for y/n? And would you please stop crying? It’s dangerous while you’re driving,” 

“Sunghoon, whatever happens, I’ll be with you, okay? Seol-in too,” He starts, his voice sad as he glances at Sunghoon. “Y/n… is weak.” 

“The fuck do you mean?” Sunghoon perks in his seat, turning to Heeseung. 

“She’s been very sick, Sunghoon. Since she was a kid. And now… she’s barely holding on to life and her father’s been saying that she only lives out waiting for you every second of every day.” Sunghoon’s life stops right then and there, feeling his heart not beat faster but slower, as if you had just taken life years from him. What do you mean you’re sick? What do you mean you’re also sick? What do you mean you still let him stay with Chung-ah even though you were counting days as well? What do you mean? 

“W-what the hell, Heeseung… Not a good fucking joke,” He utters out, staring outside the window. 

“She was someone who’s prohibited to do anything exciting, and feel anything exciting, or too saddening, or anything extreme. She was not supposed to…” Heeseung explains, putting his car in the emergency parking because he was not able to tell this while driving because of his own tears. “But that day… she had a major attack, something they haven’t seen before that they thought they were going to lose y/n much earlier than they expected.” 

Sunghoon had tears uncontrollably leaving his eyes as he was reminded of everything. He had signs, unbelievably many times, but he was dumb enough to ignore it. 

Like how you were not supposed to be surprised at any cost. Like how you didn’t drink coffee even though you always lick your lips when you see it. Like how you’re only eating fruits and vegetables. Like how you said you literally cannot breathe when he took you out. Like when you didn’t go to school for days straight and when you did you looked almost nothing like you did when you first talked. Like how after that day you stumbled ‘on your own feet’ while walking straight. 

How can he not know?

“Y/n always said it’s not your fault, Sunghoon. So don’t blame yourself for it,” He didn’t even realize Heeseung had continued driving, calmed himself. 

He cannot bring himself to be angry at anyone but himself, so his voice was low.

“How can it not be me, Heeseung? When I was the one closest to her for that one month? When she showed me she was also holding on to life but I didn’t even bother asking? How can I not blame myself for it, Heeseung?” He cries out, massaging his forehead. 

“You’ll know later, Sunghoon.” Heeseung smiles at him, “You’ll know.” 

Sunghoon thought he had no tears left to cry after Chung-ah. Because after all, he promised to come back to you. To always come back to you. And he was going to. He had just cried a lot because of course, Chung-ah, but also the time he had lost with you. 

You also had golden time, time he should not have taken for granted, but how come he’s only getting to cherish everything now? 

D-0

“We’re here…” Heeseung parks his car outside of a humble house, and Sunghoon had never felt so nervous and happy and devastated at the same time. “We can go once you’re ready.” Heeseung waits outside his car as he also prepares himself, waiting for Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon, meanwhile, was breathing heavily to calm himself. He was strong. He should show you he is. That way, you can leave with no worries. And that he should not be wasting any second now of a golden chance. 

Sunghoon opens the car door and smiles at Heeseung, nodding at him. They both sigh in agreement and finally make their way inside, as they’re welcomed by Seol-in.

“She’s upstairs.” Seol-in already had red eyes and nose, still weeping as she hugged herself. She was finally going to see what her best friend has been waiting hopefully for, nodding at Sunghoon. Sunghoon makes his way upstairs slowly, Heeseung and Seol-in following closely behind. Heeseung smiles at Seol-in sweetly as he takes her by his side, rubbing her arms to calm her down.

Sunghoon is welcomed and greeted by her father outside her door, glasses fogged up from his tears that he muffles. When he meets eyes with Sunghoon, he immediately pulls him into a fatherly hug and pats him.

“Thank you, son."

Sunghoon nods at him and can’t help his eyes well up with tears, breathing heavily yet again as he takes ahold of the knob. 

He takes a step inside and finally, finally sees you, your back facing him as you sit on a wheelchair, looking out the balcony. He had realized the view was the mountain you had gone together before, only further and clearing of the clouds was happening just after the sunset. 

Sunghoon muffles his cries with the back of his palm before he makes his way to you, at first, unable to take even another step. He looks around, just not at you, because god it still hasn’t sunk in him.

“Go, son. She’s been waiting for you.” Your father encourages him, with Heeseung and Seol-in behind him. He nods, sighing out softly and deeply once again before he takes a step, and another, and another…

“My love,” Sunghoon mumbles out, softly placing his palm on your shoulder. He was so scared of holding you, feeling you’re so fragile to even touch. But when your face lights up and your lips turn to an even bigger smile, Sunghoon drops on his knees to hold both of your hands and kiss them. It was the same position you had back then, but now, you were both smiling.

“You’re here,” You mumble out, and he can see the way your chest is heaving up and down to help you substitute your talking. “I knew you were coming back.” You cup his cheeks and rub it with your thumb, scrunching your nose. “I waited for you.”

“I know you did.” He takes ahold of your hand that held his cheeks, burrowing himself to it because this was the warmth he had missed. 

“Can you transfer me to the seat? I want to sit beside you,” 

“Why? Am I covering your view? I told you, I should be in it,” He strikes the same pose he did when you had a date, earning a laugh from you as he chuckles. 

“And I told you I memorized each of your features.” You boop his nose and he finally transfers you out of your wheelchair to the sofa beside you, sitting as well. You comfortably lean your head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment. 

He takes a minute before he sighs as well, holding your hand.

“I missed you,” You say, smiling.

“I missed you too, y/n… I…” His voice shakes, and once again, he looks faraway to stop his tears. He should look strong. He should appear strong. “...I’m sorry,” 

“Shh,” You pat his hand, “Let’s not make this time to be apologetic to each other, dear. We know and we understand,” You rub his hand reassuringly, but Sunghoon continues to be a disappointment to himself by continuously crying. So you had no choice but to face him with much strength, grabbing his face to face you. 

“I love you, y/n.” He managed to breathe out, his lips quivering. “I love you so much,” 

“I do, too, Sunghoon.” You smile at him. “So much. I love you,” 

“And I’m still deeply sorry,” Sunghoon shakes his head softly between your hands, but you hold your smile.

“No, Sunghoon. You don’t need to be because it was my choice.” You explain, “Thank you, Sunghoon. Because I got to hold and had the love you dearly had for me, I was able to last further than what I was promised,” You sigh out, going back to your position as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for giving me that. For giving me life… And for keeping your promise.” 

Sunghoon feels contented and ecstatic as he just let it all out, the anxiety, the regrets, everything. What was important was now he was here beside you, and he was always going to be. He lets your warmth embrace his, for the last time. He was able to say everything he had wanted to say, and he feels contented. 

“And now that you’re back as you promised… I’m really happy… I think I can rest peacefully now.” Sunghoon nods and sighs in preparedness. He was prepared. He was okay with it. He’ll be okay. 

“You did so well holding out, y/n.” He pats your hand, then rubs your cheeks as he feels your eyes drape down. “You did so so well. You can rest now,” 

“I’m sleepy, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon’s eyes drift towards the view as he hums your favorite song to lull you to sleep. 

And when he feels your hand slowly break away from his, followed by the warmth he loved slowly fading away from the cold… he stops. He softly places a kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you. Goodnight, dear.” 

To, Park Sunghoon

Ever since we were freshies, I had always had my eye on you. If you weren’t so famous, I would’ve straight up asked you out already. That is one of the biggest regrets of my life. For not asking you out sooner. 

Because what if I did? Would you have agreed?

When I first introduced the offer to you, I didn’t even think about it twice. When I heard I’ve got months to live, I wanted you to be part of it. Because you were such a big part of my college! And my college was a big part of my life! Should I just give up it like that?

When you declined, of course I was heartbroken. And when you told me that it had wrong impressions of intentions, it broke my heart more. I should’ve thought about what you have felt if I put you in that situation, so I’m sorry. 

Sunghoon, you were such an eye candy. How come anyone -not- like you? And when we’ve finally started hanging out, you were much more than being an eye candy. You’re a bright person who have so much love to give and receive, a person who tries his best at everything, a person who, when fails, does not easily back down. A person who’s really easy to love. 

Sunghoon, I love you.

Please, please, please do not blame yourself for anything. It was my choice to keep it from you, my choice to let you stay with Chung-ah. 

The twenty days was much more than what you could’ve possibly given me. 

I love you, my dear. 

Will always do. Always will. 

Take care of yourself for me?

Love, 

y/n.

[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.

TAGS: 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!

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.

Thank you for the reading!🖤 [MAIN M-LIST]🪓[SWEET LIKE A CUPCAKE M-LIST]🪓[KO-FI]

[clegfly]

Woo, it’s about time I made one of these… *cracks knuckles*

MORE ABOUT ME!!!!

HIIII!!!! My name is clegfly, or just cleg!!!! I’m an artist/ writer / professional paint drying critic/j. I’m just a silly person doing silly things, don’t mind me. I use they/them pronouns and I am aroace!!!

LIKES

BULLET POINTS BULLET POINTS BULLET POI

Pancakes. All day. All the time. Everywhere, anywhere. Pancakes

That goes for bacon too

JELLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!1!1!1!

Why are these all foods what else do I like uhhhh

Warm. And cosy bed. And fire. And all that stuff

OLD COMPUTER AESTHETIC!!!!!! N64!!! WINDOWS XP!!!! ALL THAT SHIT

Bugs in theory

PLANTS

MUSICAL THEATRE

Graphic novels

Video games… ough my beloveds

Books

Okay now this is too long

Oops

Sorry

JELLYFISH JELLYFISH JELLYFISH

The ocean full stop actually

In theory

CHINCHILLAS

Uh

Yapping

Analysis

IS BREA LIOM GAEILGE!!!1!1!2!!1

Law

History

Drama (as in like. Theatre)

DISLIKES

anything on my DNI >:((((

Bugs in practice

Sport

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I’m literally hero omori

Commitment

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Internet drama

Anyone who gatekeeps like. Anything.

INTERESTS???

All day every day, baby.

MAINS

OMORI- main interest as apparent by one peek at my blog… The brainrot is immeasurable and everlasting. Send help. It’s been almost four years. I love this game, its characters, story, EVERYTHING so fucking much. I’m like a billion pounds in debt to it also. I will be homeless but at least I will have my big ass heromari collection.

PMMM/ Madoka Magica- my favourite show! Consisting purely of sparkles and sunshine!!!! Why are you crying??? I’m sure not!!!!

DDLC/ Doki Doki Literature Club- another favourite of mine!!! I see a well-written cast of characters I deeply relate to go through extreme horrific horror beyond any of their comprehensions and I’m SOLD!!!

Coraline- the horrors are all consuming, but at least it’s both a visual and extremely well-written treat!!!!

TADC/ the amazing digital circus- won’t lie, watched this show when the pilot dropped and LOVED it, but forgot about it after a while as it didn’t stick with me. Then episode three came out and I’m now reduced to a blubbering mess whose brain is now significantly comprised of two fictional chess pieces. What happened? I don’t know. Send even more help.

LITTLE GUYS THAT HURT MY BRAIN SOMETIMES

Petscop

Fnaf

BATIM/ bendy and the ink machine

BSD

Deltarune

Undertale

Hawaii: Part II

SUBJECT TO CHANGE BECAUSE IM PROBABLY FORGETTING LIKE 20 AND ALSO HAVE LIKE 20 STILL TO DISCOVER

HOBBIES?!2!2!

Ya!!!! :D

Art

The main thing I do on my silly little page!!

…in which the art is mostly unfinished doodles… but that’s okay!!!! We ball anyway

YOU CAN SEND THE CLEG REQUESTS!!!!! ALL DAY ANY DAY UNLESS I SAY OTHERWISE!!!! Do not expect premium quality though lmao. (And also nothing related to DNI. Shouldn’t have to say this but. Uh. Yeah)

You cannot yet commission the cleg :(

you can view all of my art via the my art tag on my blog!!!!! most of it should be there :)

Writing

Currently on a writing hiatus and have been for a little while (5 MONRHS WHAT) but… i do!!!! That!!!! Aka I write fan fiction AGH

Mostly. Heromari stuff. Actually all heromari stuff. I think I have one fic that isn’t heromari and it’s one I co-authored I love them your honour…

Yeah

DNI

Bit of a bummer, but I gotta set my boundaries to keep the riff-raff out!! That being said, do NOT interact with my blog whatsoever if you:

Are a shotacon, lolicon, pedo, etc etc etc. (yucky. Yuck yuck yuck. Fuck off)

Are a proshipper

Are homophobic

Are transphobic

Are aphobic/ arophobic (why. Why are you even still here)

Queerphobic in general actually get OUT!!!!

Actively shit on any of my main interests. Like ACTIVELY go out of your way to tell me how bad it is (what. What is the point. Just go)

NSFW is on thin ice but I will likely just block the tag if you post about it so it doesn’t really bother me!!... however PLEASE keep it away from me I am very sex repulsed and WILL block you ON SIGHT!!!

Are racist/ xenophobic

There is likely LOTS more I’m forgetting so I will update this later… also just saying I reserve the right to block ANYONE no matter if you fit into this criteria or not. If I don’t vibe with you I will politely block you and look the other way!!! No theatrics required, I just want to curate my experience and NOT cause needless conflict hsjshshsh…

Anyway with all the negative stuff out of the way… I really hope you enjoy my blog!!! I’m just here to have fun honestly and express my ideas and passions and work on a little page of the internet so!!!! Hope you have fun too!!!! :D

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week (2024): Day 2

Prompts: Multichaps/Villains! (catching up slowly but surely~)

Multichaps:

Shark Bait: ALRIGHT CONFESSION I haven't actually *read* this one yet ONLY because I know it's going to soooooo good and it's going to change my brain chemistry so I'm waiting until I am Emotionally Prepared but UWAH just the premise alone should be enough to entice you: Movie!verse with completely secret identities, and Lloyd/Green Ninja trying to take matters into his own hands...only for irony to make them worse, as is the story of his life. This author is already a legend as it is so who needs a summary GO READ GO READ NOW!!

Ninjago: The Nya Perspective: SINCE this masterpiece favorite of mine just updated not too long ago, there's no better time than to recommend it once again! Have you always wanted more from Nya in the early seasons?! Have you always wanted more of HER side of story?! Have you wonder how Nya became the person she is today?! Well wonder no longer for this story has got those answers and more!!!!

Sharpen the Scythe, Before He Reaps: Another that I've started but never finished, it's a reworking of the Day of the Departed, so you know it's FULL of Ghost!Cole goodness, from the good to the angsty!! And what I've read so far is sooo soul-grabbing (pun somewhat intended) and makes me wish DotD was even half as introspective as this jhgfdgfd

Thank You For Giving Me Wings: Over a year later and this is still my only multi-chap ninjago fic (...that, uh, isn't Legacyverse nor OC-related, oop). Still, it's never a bad time to have a little introspective on Wu bonding with his students over the years, moreso as family than anything else <3

All I'm Asking For: Quite possibly one of my very favorite Ninjago fics ever, it is REQUIRED reading as far as I'm concerned! Cole's the anchor character, but it follows EVERYONE in a slightly-altered aftermath of March of the Oni, with everyone recuperating, figuring out what's next for them with their lives and relationships, and spiced up with a little Christmas flair <3

Mechanical Hearts: A story I've been keeping an eye on for a while, it's a college Jaya au with plenty of Jay+Cole dynamic spread on top, and the way the author (hi Finn!!) writes all the characters is so deep even in the lighter moments and makes all the senes in the world for the setting they're in, and I love all the little nods to canon or the cheeky changes made along the way–it's so enjoyable!

Villains:

for want (for nothing): Not technically a villain, but Kai's certainly an antagonist here ooooooooh (a different, heart-wrenching take on the Kai-Lloyd confrontation in S4)

Lord Garmadon Is Not Impressed With the Future: Another one I've recced before, but now it has an equally villainous SEQUEL so I've gotta get everyone on the train again! And this story's got villain!Garmadon and villain!Garmadon-but-having-a-personal-crisis upon realizing that his future is...not at all what he wanted. And he also discovers himself beating the life out of his own son–so yeah. We definitely can't have THAT. Good stuff, good stuff.

Bucket List: Might be a slight cop-out since this is moreso about Kai BUT it IS my favorite Morro-related fic, and he is a villain, thus it fits! (...Plus I gotta put at least three stories in this section, c'mon). Anyway, Kai allows Morro to possess him for less-than-ideal reasons and presents a fascinating dynamic between the two and what it means to truly live and take responsibility (the good, the bad, the ugly, and all). Be mindful of the tags and warnings, though!

Outgrown (from Spider Lily's Claws): I knew I almost forgot a Harumi one! DR-fic in which Harumi stumbles across the monastery looking for a place to recuperate, and a company-starved Lloyd welcomes her to stay. A fascinating look at a Harumi who's still got her "Evil" instincts but is still trying to act in her best interests, while Lloyd...is Lloyd hgfhgd. I love their back-and-forth bad-idea-good-idea dynamic here a LOOOOOT

[agirlandherquill]

through the puddles of ink

since it's a new academic year, a new chapter of my life and i thought, since i've been on tumblr for around eight months now that it's about time i properly introduced myself - this would shock the person i was when i first started this blog, but as it's grown so have i, and i think university has indefinitely helped my confidence - so, without further ado, here goes i'll start this properly by explaining the title of this post - through the puddle of ink

ink is important because obviously it is the basis of literature, the foundation of stories and fitting to my blog name, you dip the quill in the ink to write, to forge an adventure that tests the imagination and takes a reader to wonderful places and puddles because let's face it, ink is messy, ink is chaotic, just like me, my characters, and my writing and because through the looking glass is a very iconic title i also watched that movie in the cinema years ago, i took inspiration, and here we are now - this post is a reflection of me, the beautiful nightmares and writing gremlins that co-exist within my brain and a way for me to get to better know my mutuals, anyone and everybody on writeblr!

here comes the scary part - only for me, and my semi-awkward self - introducing myself, i've never been very good at this stuff so bear with me - and have mercy on my nervous soul,

for the longest time i've loved the sort of self-imposed anonymity of this blog, and don't get me wrong i still do adore my blog name but I thought it was about time I properly introduced myself, so, let me just shuffle some papers in the library of my mind, find the right phrasing for this and... (cue angry hitting of the keyboard) hello! my name is Erin and i'm a writer, a lover of chaos, and a semi-functioning tempest somehow existing within society - i love and ramble about lots of different things - books, shows, songs, you name it, i can waffle and sometimes i can waffle well (that is how i am now going to describe my writing, because it feels like it fits so well)

phew, i got that out, that tiny paragraph was a lot of effort (and i've beaten writers block more often than i can count)

this little post might not seem like much, but to me it's a lot, and i'm happy to have made it this far, and i'm so looking forward to continuing to grow alongside this blog and writeblr (i love you all, no seriously)

and now onto some very much needed rambling about my works, because there's a lot the lovely folk of writeblr are yet to know (and it will come, in time, but here's what i can say for now)

Ruin's Reprisal - we all know the tale of this, my oldest, most functioning (cough, using that term loosely) work - well, where to start? well, i'm on the final stage of proofreading, and once that's all done i'm hoping (let's be honest, dreaming,) to have the final draft complete and out in the great wide world come christmas/new year (that is a courageous goal, even for me, but who knows, maybe i can pull it off, just maybe)

A Deal Of Daggers - it's almost time for nanowrimo, which marks two years since the idea for this first came to me, and i cannot wait to spend autumn working on it (not that i am participating in nano properly this year, what with student-life obligations, but i'm going to write what i can) and i've been steadily chipping away with a few chapters already

those are my two main works, and probably the only works i've been focusing on over the last couple of months - and i've fallen completely and wholeheartedly in love with them all over again, as i do, every single time i open the files on scrivener

as far as my tired but over-eager to write brain can think this should be it for everything i wanted to include in this post until the next post (which won't be long, i can guarantee it),

~ Erin, A Girl and Her Quill, or whatever this hellscape would like to call me :)

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list! (i forgot to add it when i posted, oops!)

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies

[n4tur4lspirit]

Basic(?) Summary of my Sonic AU :3

So, this is a sonadow + angst au (most of it is just Sonic suffering) and some of this is going to be vague, especially in the future because I don't want to spoil it too much ^^

Past: The events of Sonic 06 are important.

Start/Near past: A couple weeks after the Metal Virus and about 2 weeks after Surge nearly fried Sonic with her electricity abilities, small anomalies start to concern people (especially those with a fear of insects and stuff,) Tails takes one to investigate as well as a normal one, Silver shows up at Sonic's and Tails' front door (he is pissed). Eggman has been missing for quite a long time and Sonic's getting bored.

Present: Look! Another apocalyptic event!! Sonic is not excited for this, who is going to be? Especially after the whole Metal Virus thing. Knuckles finds Rouge on a patrol with a broken wing (they haven't met before), about a week after Sonic finds Shadow while exploring/looking for something (they also haven't met before). They put Shadow in a cage/prison because Sonic decided to bring Shadow in after Shadow literally attacked Sonic (Shadow's feral (he has almost no memory at all)). Cream visits Shadow every now and then, Amy discovers this, Amy supervises Cream just in case something happens. Shadow eventually gains his memory back, they let him out. Sonic's family finds their way to the Restoration HQ, speedy hog may or may not get a little embarrassed. Why is Tails the only one trying to find a cure for this. On one of Rouge's turn to scout a place for any survivors, Sonic tags along. Turns out that the infected are actually smart??? (They ambushed Sonic together.) Blah, blah, blah, Sonic finds Eggman, then after the whole apocalypse is over, these events happen in order:

(All of these events are obviously altered to match the characters+story!!)

The Black Arms invasion, forgot where that event came from (oops)

Sonic Prime

Sonic x Shadow Generations

Sonic Frontiers

(There might be more added, kinda just depends)

Near future: Sonic and Shadow are doing their rivalry stuff, Sonic realises that he MIGHT have fallen for Shadow. He ignores those feelings though. Eggman is up to one of his schemes again, captures Sonic, does little experiments on Sonic because Eggman noticed something about Sonic and wanted to see what it was because wdym a sonic-speed hedgehog survived all those adventures??? Plot armour??? This reminds Sonic of the events of Sonic Forces and just kinda tries to sleep it all away (that isn't healthy dude). Obviously gets rescued. Eggman then retires because he's old af. Fast forward, Sonic is still ignoring those feelings for Shadow, he's getting older. A 'few' years forward, he then discovers something about himself that just goes against one of his beliefs. (Hint: "Every world has its end..." - Sonic)

Future: Well, at least Tails is alive for a bit longer! Oop- Tails is now gone. Doesn't cope well. Shadow does eventually fall for Sonic.

End: Sonic gets his happy ending!!! Shadow starts to feel lonely but gets used to it.

Since Shadow is the 'can't die from old age and natural illnesses', I decided to let Shadow go to rest too!! :D Damn, that's a lot of text... ;-;

[writer-or-whatever]

Word Search Tag Game!

Thanks for the tag @otpcutie!! I love all the tag games you tag me in that involve writing (and I promise I’m going to do the penguin classics cover one soon. They’re all made but languishing away on my computer bc I forgot about them 😅).

I used some of these words way more in my WIP than I thought (especially breath! Which. Shouldn’t have been as surprising as it is. Give a character a traumatic rib injury, expect them to breathe poorly. And yet I was shocked anyway). This is from my longstanding WIP (which hasn’t been posted at all yet despite being 20k words and counting oops) for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card. It’s Rory/Jess (Gilmore girls) for the square “trying to wake them up” on my card.

Alright, enough of my yapping. Rules: In a new post use the words below (or choose your own) to find where they appear in your WIP/s and share those parts.

(I apparently never used the word body surprisingly? So I changed it to clarity)

Breath:

“We were almost back to Luke’s when he suggested that we could just keep driving around. I said yes, Lane. And then we-” Rory cut herself off with a harsh breath. She felt shame rise up in her chest, hot and accusatory, and she couldn’t finish her sentence. Worse than the feeling itself was the question about why she felt it. Was she feeling guilty and embarrassed over the accident or over what might’ve happened if they hadn’t crashed?

Out:

“Dad?” Rory said, looking at her mom in confusion. A small part of her had been upset that he hadn’t so much as called while she was in the hospital, but the rest of her knew not to expect it. That small, hurt part of her was soothed by the sight of her dad standing anxiously in their driveway looking at her like he’d never been so relieved in his life. As soon as her mom parked, he was rushing to help Rory out of the car.

Clarity:

Rory nodded vacantly as she watched Jess continue to breathe. She didn’t register anything else until they got to the hospital and they shepherded her out of the ambulance and into a room in the ER while they continued to wheel Jess further down the hallway.

Suddenly, Rory came crashing back to herself in earth-shattering clarity. The lights were bright, and everything was so loud—too loud—and she hurt everywhere, but especially her chest and her wrist, and they were taking Jess away from her.

Tagging: @sarah-sandwich @thebookshelflord @bunny-bopper @webtrinsic1122 @ernestonlysayslovelythings @maria-de-salinas @serenefreakgeek @violet-prism-creatively

[thrandilf]

I don’t know if you’re taking rec’s still but if you want some good authors? If not feel free to ignore/delete! (All these are on ao3 that site’s spoiled me I can’t go anywhere else)

Alienu has a lot of really good shadowpeach working on their relationship fics. It’s almost a gag how they never actually get to them kissing but dear GOD there’s that longing to. Maybe one day.

Marinara_Trench writes softer macaque/shadowpeach than some of these, but I like how they write everyone as Just a Guy trying their Best. They also gave me the headcanon that macaque collects the stupidest, cheesiest pieces of junk like wukong collects random treasures.

cloud_somersault really good at acknowledging the Monkies got Issues. I mean they got Mei and Redson in a fic or two but it’s mainly the three main monkeys dealing with shit.

poetoutofthebeast I guess the best way to describe their writing is that they take a concept and run with it and it’s a very enjoyable experience for me. Almost crack treated seriously but the scenarios make sense?

KinbariTeaHeathen just the best dynamics! Fun scenarios with fun character combinations!!

K’s writing anon I have no idea who this is but this tag has some of the funnest story ideas I have read for lmk. My two recommendations are ‘obelus’ where LBD thinks trying to possess macaque as a new body is a good idea, and ‘heavy is the heart that wears the crown’ where LBD gets the fillet and macaque takes. Perhaps the stupidest route to keep her from using it on anyone else?

magic, myths, and emotionally unstable monkeys (lmk fics) series not an author but it’s got some of my favorite wukong character studies in regards to shadowpeach

And a some good fics:

Temporary Touch Explicit, and has macaque burn FFM, but probably one of the most logical in how they’d get back together/heal/get together (that is to say that their problems come up naturally and they deal with them extremely in character (terribly) not that the characters are being smart about the situation they’ve got themselves into at All)

Collapse into me Macaque runs to the brotherhood while dying and Azure does a not smart thing! Not too far in the plot but the character dynamics sure are dynamic.

Swear it on the Sun the only thing that has given credence to the idea Peng had a thing for Mac, and it’s not even got Peng having feelings for Mac.

My sunflower is crying, I’m sorry hanahaki au where Mac has hanahaki and goes “well I’m gonna die, that sucks” and? Makes the most of it? He gets cured ofc but he gets annoyed his plan gets ruined. Ofc

The Broken Pleas of a Familiar Face (And an Exhausted Shadow) Macaque asks wukong to stay and help him take care of the mountain cause he’s struggling, and wukong’s y’know. On jttw. So it doesn’t go well.

meant to do a lil blurb under the fic recs but then I was on like 2% and didn't want to lose the whole thing but I hope you find some fics you like! 'We just "click"' was such a nice find for me and finding you on tumblr is v exciting! Ok have a nice day byee

Aaaaa thank you!

I meant to answer this way sooner and forgot I hadn't, I appreciate the list to go through!

I just read Temporary Touch (all in one sitting oops) and I absolutely love it, I ran into it in the wild on ao3 and the name sounded familiar, glad I gave it a shot because right now it is my fave shadowpeach but it's nice to have a list of some others

Thank you for the recs and I'm glad you liked We Just Click haha

[multi-lefaiye]

badly described characters tag

oh my god i was tagged in this a hot minute ago and i really wanted to do it. then i forgot. oops.

anyway! i was tagged by i believveeeeee @jezifster and @addisons-damn-dialogue! thanks y'all!

the rules are simple. i'm gonna describe some of my characters badly, and based on those descriptions, y'all can choose who you think sounds the most fun.

for fun, i'm gonna do the various characters i've played in ttrpgs! one of them is eden. the rest are not.

tagging: you, dear reader! :3 and tag ME so i can see it.