#but i'll link it in my masterlist so if you guys want to go through all my writing advices

[girasollake]

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

[ashlynlovestlou]

omg omg omg, can you please do abby and reader trying out the tabs chocolate to see who breaks first?? 😔🙏🙏🙏🙏

hi!! my power is out so this is kind of rushed. hope you guys enjoy! (also im so so so sorry for being inactive, but i'm back now!)

masterlist

daily click

links to help palestine

☆.｡.:*

it was never supposed to be anything more than a gag-gift. ellie had given it to you and your girlfriend as a joke a few weeks ago at a group get-together, and you'd thought nothing of it. neither did abby. what were you supposed to think about a chocolate that makes you horny? nothing, you suppose.

now you were sitting across from one another on the floor of your shared living room, your legs folded beneath you. you decided to challenge one another, seeing who could go the longest without touching the other.

abby's hands are twitching, like she's on the verge of just grabbing you and fucking you right then and there. her strap is tucked away in her basketball shorts, and you could practically hear it calling your name.

so far you'd both lasted ten minutes without touching each other, and there was an obvious wet patch in your panties.

"no way you're winning this." you murmur at her, your voice broken from how bad you're aching to touch yourself. or her.

she doesn't say anything for a moment, and it's almost like you can see a drop of sweat trickle down her temple, "fuck, baby, wanna touch you so bad." she says back to you, "can't even imagine how wet you are right now."

you raise an eyebrow. little did she know, she just gave you a reason to tease her.

"i am." you respond, using that voice. the one you explicitly use during sex. the one that has her whimpering every time you speak. you even spread your legs a little bit, hoping she'd look down to see for herself.

she does.

she groans, her eyes drifting down to your crotch. she closes her eyes the minute she sees the mess you made through your shorts, her head lolling backwards, "shit."

"you can touch me, y'know. it's just a game." you say, still using that sultry voices

she looks down at you again, shaking her head, "not gonna lose to you. nice try though."

you sigh and roll your eyes, your impatience only growing with every second that her hands aren't all over you, "what if we just... touch each other at the same time? then neither of us would win or lose."

"baby, if we wanted to fuck that easily we would've." she chides.

"abby, come on." you groan, "this is stupid."

she stares at you for a moment, weighing her options. she's still desperate to touch you, that much hasn't changed. but the whole point of this game was to see who could go the longest. it doesn't take her long to make up her mind.

"fuck it." she says, practically leaping at you, crashing her plush lips into yours. she swallows every moan you elicit, ripping your clothes off your body.

no, literally, she ripped your shirt in half.

"sorry, sweetheart. i'll buy you a new one, i promise." she says, giving you no time to object before kissing you again, she unclips your bra more delicately, her grabby hands wasting no time in squeezing at whatever parts of your breasts her hands could find. abandoning your left breast, she snakes her hand in between the two bodies, her fingers stripping off your denim shorts skillfully. once you're left in only your panties she leans back to take in the full view, whistling lowly.

you smile, reaching up and tugging on the sleeve of her shirt that sits snugly at her large bicep, "wanna see you too."

she smirks down at you, laying you down on your back, your bare skin relaxing against the soft carpet, "anything for you, princess." she says before stripping off her own shirt. how unfair of her to preserve her own clothes but not yours. but you forgive her easily once you lay your eyes on her toned torso.

she takes her shorts off in the process too, her strap flinging out like it was waiting for you. she takes one of her careful hands and resting it on your tummy, asking you for permission, to which you nod.

she carefully reaches her hands into your panties, her fingers finding their place over your folds. her middle finger rubs in between them for a few times before she groans, "already this wet? i dont even think she needs my fingers. already lubed up for me."

you whimper at her words and she gives you that smug, lopsided smile that you loved so much, "i'll give her what she needs. just sit tight."

she takes your panties off, slowly pulling them down your legs and peppering kisses all over your face while she does it. she did this same routine the first time the two of you ever had sex. you were nervous, and this was her way of distracting you to make you feel better. and now she does it every time, like it's her natural habit.

once you're completely naked she spreads your legs a bit wider, slotting herself in between them and rubbing your thighs reassuringly, "so pretty." she mutters to herself as she looks you over one last time before inserting herself inside of you.

you take her inch by inch, closing your eyes and moaning consistently until she bottoms out. once she's done she freezes, letting you adjust, "everything feel okay? doesn't hurt, does it?"

you shake your head, "doesn't hurt. m' okay."

she nods, bending down to kiss your forehead before slowly pulling out and pushing it in. out, in. out in, out in. until she has a steady rhythm.

she holds you intimately, completely contrasting the savage beast she was earlier. but abby was always gentle. good at taking care of you, and good at making sure you were okay afterwards. she knew the difference between harder, faster, and deeper, and she knew all the right spots. she'd watch your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. and when she didn't see any, she'd shower you with affection.

she whimpers with every thrust of her hips, the base of the strap bumping against her clit. she kisses your neck like she's tucking herself away into you, one of her hands reaching down to gentle rub your bundle of nerves. you both stay in this position until her hips stutter, "y' almost close?"

you nod, eyes closing.

she keeps doing what she's doing, pinching and pulling at your clit until you're shaking underneath her, moaning louder than before. she fucks you through it, her pace slowing down the longer your orgasm draws out.

once your high is finally over she kisses your cheek, "m' never playing that stupid game again."

you laugh into her shoulder, "probably for the best."

she smiles before lifting off of you a bit, "you okay if i pull out?"

you nod your head, whining whenever she does pull out, leaving you empty.

she flops down beside you with zero grace, catching her breath, "i love you." she murmurs.

"i love you too." you whisper back.

[takes1]

final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!

haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.

The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.

You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.

It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.

"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.

You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.

A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--

"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"

You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.

That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.

"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.

It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.

"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.

You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.

A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.

flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!

You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.

You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.

A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.

Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.

"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."

"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."

You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"

He didn't respond quickly enough.

You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."

He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.

"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.

Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.

"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.

You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.

Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."

It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.

You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.

"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.

A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.

"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.

It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.

"For making sure you don't get hurt."

Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.

Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.

Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.

That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.

Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.

It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.

You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.

It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.

"Has this tree always been sideways?"

You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.

The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.

You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.

"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.

He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.

Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.

At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.

"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"

You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.

There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.

His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.

Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.

"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.

It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.

However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.

When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.

"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.

"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.

You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.

His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.

When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.

Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.

"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.

That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.

"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.

"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."

The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.

It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.

He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"

Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.

Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.

He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.

Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.

There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.

"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.

It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.

It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.

His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?

One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.

He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.

Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.

He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.

The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.

"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.

"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.

The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.

Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.

He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.

A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"

His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.

You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.

A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.

He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.

This wasn't how you wanted it to go.

It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.

You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.

He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.

You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.

The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.

He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.

"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.

It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.

You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.

Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.

"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."

All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.

Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.

He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.

Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.

He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.

He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.

His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:

"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."

That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.

He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.

"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.

When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.

"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.

He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.

Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.

"God," He sighed at your loving stare.

"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.

He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.

Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.

Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.

His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.

He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.

If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.

It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.

As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.

"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.

You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.

A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.

He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.

Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.

He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.

"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.

You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."

The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.

He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.

You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."

That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.

"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.

It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.

It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.

"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.

He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"

"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.

A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.

You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.

The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.

"Did I hurt you--?"

"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."

He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.

You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.

You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.

"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.

A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.

"You were, too."

He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.

You smiled.

You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.

Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.

You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.

A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.

Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.

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[makeyoumine69]

Spit In My Face

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

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

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

— WORDS: 21k (oops)

— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ve arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Miss.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you here alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you have a date or not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Time literally stopped for me when you left.” 

'What a beautiful flattery.'

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

“Baby, did you fall asleep in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop it, Patrick…”

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

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

 “Can you just leave and let me change?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'No, not good...no!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'And he just stopped, holy hell.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…Only y-you...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I didn’t ask...”

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

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

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

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

'Oops!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Bullshit.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Relax?”

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

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

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

“You’re such an…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Excellent.' 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cupcake..."

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

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

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

"(Y/n), calm down! You're bleeding." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

'No, no, no. Not again'

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

'Stop.'

"Cupcake."

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

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

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

"Daddy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come back!" 

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

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

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

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

'Just leave, please!'

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

"Patrick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even worse than you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'God, what a jerk.' 

"Can't say the same about you."

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

"You really think I care?"

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

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

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

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

"Do you like him?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A second, two seconds.

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

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

Shit, what if she saw what you were doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lost.

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

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

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

"HEY! We were just trying to help!"

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

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

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

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

"Who did this to you?"

'You did.'

But he would never know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because it doesn't matter."

"It does."

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell was going on inside your head?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, it's pretty clean here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

'It's already too much.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what do you do to relax?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were trapped in your own flat, what nonsense.

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

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

'Excellent!'

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

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

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

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

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

“Cupcake, are you—”

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

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

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

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

How could he let this happen? 

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

Never.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emotions were overtaking you.

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

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

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

“Patrick! Please, don’t go!” 

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

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

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

One, two, three…

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

Four, five, six…

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

Seven, eight, nine…

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

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

Ten.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay like that.”

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

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

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

“Yes! Yes, please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did it hurt so good to be alive?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus Christ.

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

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

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

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

With a low growl, Patrick pulled the blanket away and finally noticed you. "Woah, Cupcake, was that you?" The man chuckled, casually flexing his muscles as he looked at the mirror next to the door where you were standing. "I thought something had exploded outside."

Abashed, you quickly adjusted your robe from his piercing gaze. "Sorry, I can be really..."

"Clumsy?" Smiling broadly, Bateman leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms. 

"Yes, clumsy," you tugged with your fingers, briefly glancing down—damn, he seemed to be the only person who could embarrass you so easily. "Well...do you want anything?"

"Hmmm, let me think," Patrick hummed before he thoughtfully pressed a finger to his plump lips. "I probably have something on my mind," Bateman gave you a mischievous grin when he saw your curious look and smoothed his golden brown hair. "How about a morning blowjob?" Your instant reaction was a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which made the man's face look even more smug. "Relax! I'm joking." 

Of course he wasn't joking—you knew it and couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd pretend I didn't hear that," you said, finally looking away from his sturdy body. "How about breakfast?"

"That sounds really good."

Shocked, you took a moment to think about the possible options you could cook for him since you didn’t really expect him to give you a positive answer. “I can offset you with a scrambled egg and some fresh orange juice.”

With a satisfied grin, the man slowly got up from your modest bed and stretched his muscles again; he was definitely making it on purpose. “Oh, that’s nice,” he almost groaned when he cocked his head to one side then to another. “I can’t say the same about your bed, Cupcake… you should change the mattress if you want to keep walking with a straight back.”

And though Patrick was lamenting, you could say he said it almost affectionately—as if he really cared about you, yet you brushed this conclusion off as fast as your heart was pounding right now when the man got closer to you; his tall, massive frame towered over you like a mountain.

“I also would like to have a shower, if…there’s such an option,” Bateman smirked and briefly traced a finger along your cheek, coaxing you to close your eyes for a second and revel in the soft sensation of his touch. “Did you sleep well?”

A sudden question that fell from his lips like a suffocated gasp, a tender stroke on your shoulder and you were already melting as Patrick knew what he was doing, every touch, every glance of his brown hypnotic eyes was deliberate and smooth, leaving you no chance but to surrender to his demand.

“Yes, I slept like a baby, though I can hardly remember the things that happened before I blacked out,” you lied with an embarrassed smile. “You can have a shower and use whatever soaps and towels you’ll see.” Thee more you talked the more his lips curled, especially when you allowed him to bring you closer into his embrace. “But don’t expect anything extraordinary.”

“I won’t, I promise,”  the man chuckled and playfully pinched your ass. “Sleeping beauty.”

With that, Patrick walked past you, leaving you alone for a moment, giving you a chance to pull yourself together. And when you seemed to relax, a thought of his clothes that had been left in the bathroom popped up in your mind. ‘Oh God, I forgot!’

Nervously, you rushed after Patrick into your bathroom to see that the door was already closed, implying that he was inside and probably naked, though you couldn’t hear the sound of flowing water. Embarrassed, you coughed quietly and knocked several times.

“Yeah?” Bateman’s muffled voice echoed through the door. 

“Patrick, I…” a short pause turned into a breathless gasp. “If you’re not already in the shower, may I come in?”

After a moment, the door in front of you opened and you saw Patrick wrapped in a white towel. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you giggled nervously and sneaked inside the bathroom to quickly grab his clothes. “I just wanted to iron your…suit and stuff, while you’re in the shower…” Quickly, you hovered his garments over your arm and walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions, despite his surprised expression. “I’m so sorry for dumping your clothes yesterday.”

With these words, you deftly avoid his grasp as you knew he’d definitely try to make you embarrassed even more. “(Y/n)!”

“Take a shower. I’ll make you breakfast as I promised.” 

This time, the man didn’t try to catch you or follow you, thankfully. So, you could safely make it to your living room where you set an ironing board and put his shirt first to iron. Wrapped in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how carefully you were ironing his clothes, you couldn’t even remember doing the same with your stuff but maybe you were just scared of ruining it since everything he wore was utterly expensive. ‘This suit probably costs like my monthly rent.’ Sighing, you put the shirt aside when you heard the water flowing sound and your mind instantly gave you an image of Patrick’s naked body, enveloped in steam and slightly flush from the heat. ‘Damn, I should stop or I'm gonna ruin something.’ When it was time to iron his tie, you ran your finger along the smooth red fabric, draped in beautiful intricate patterns—you couldn't deny that you had a thing for his ties, for all of them—you smiled to yourself before bringing it to your lips, you could still feel his cologne on it. This tantalizing scent was driving you crazy, it fit him so perfectly as if it was made specially for him, but even if that was true, you wouldn’t be surprised at all, regarding how rich this man was. The moment you finished ironing his pants, you seemed to hear his voice coming from the bathroom. ‘Perfect timing.’

Slightly tensed, you stopped next to the door. “Patrick? Did you call me?” When he didn’t reply, you became even more stirred, so without really caring about seeing him naked, you opened the door and stepped in. “Patrick?” Since your bathroom was much smaller than his, you bumped into his massive frame, squealing in surprise. “Oh God, sorry!”

“Oh, Cupcake,” he wrapped his hands around your shoulders before carefully cupping your face. “I hope you didn’t break your nose against my firm chest?”

Frowning, you gave him a dead glare but he only snickered back. “What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush for me? I’ll buy you another one and…”

You stopped him halfway and removed his hands to stroll to the sink and opened the cabinet above it. “Here. There’s also a razor if you need.”

Smirking, Bateman sneaked behind you and pressed his wet body against yours. “Do ya think I need to shave?” He rubbed the mirror from steam to check himself, sliding a hand along his chiseled chin.

“I…I don’t know…I just thought in case you need to, the razor is here.”

“Mhm…” he hummed and before you knew it he nuzzled against your exposed neck, forcing you to gasp and stepped back right into his embrace, just like he planned it. “Does that tickle, Cupcake?” 

‘Dear Lord, please give me the strength to survive this.’

Staying still, you just swallowed hard and let him continue to attack your neck, which he did with precious care before, but now, Patrick also used his mouth and teeth, and that was already too much.

"I think you definitely have some stubble," you laughed, trying to turn it into a joke. But as soon as you tried to walk away, he pulled you back into his strong arms, and that was not funny. "Breakfast Patrick, I have to make breakfast, did you forget?"

"Not really, but I need your help."

"Help?"

The man gave you a devilish smile before lifting you up and sitting you on the bathroom counter, not even giving you a chance to protest. Then Bateman took the shaving cream, checking the brand name skeptically, but then averting his eyes, probably thinking it was better not to know. With deliberate, calculated movements, he applied the cream to his cheekbones, moving up and down his face. The sight was something you never thought you'd find so damn hot that you didn't even make a sound, just watched him carefully prepare to shave.

"Have you ever seen a man shave, darling?" Patrick asked in a cheeky tone, surely noticing the way you were staring at him.

You shook your head. “No,” you shamelessly checked on him, following the little buds of water slipping down his torso. “God, this is such a silly question, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Bateman flexed his muscles while watching in the mirror and missing the way you rolled your eyes. “Well, now you finally have a chance.” The man winked at you and grabbed the razor. “You know, I really like your place, it’s pretty clean.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yes,” you crossed your arms and turned away just the moment when the man started to glide the razor against his jawline—you thought the blade would become blunt because his cheekbones were too sharp—his every action was smooth and skillful. “That was the first thing you said when we came in.”

“That only means that it’s really very clean here.”

Huffing, you fixed your robe and cursed to yourself, ‘Why does he always have to be like this?’

Opening the faucet, Patrick cleaned his face after the last stroke of the razor. “Can you check here?” 

Confused, you gave him a questioning gaze when he turned halfway, pointing at the apex of his jaw. Sheepishly, you touched his freshly shaved skin, feeling a slight prickly sensation. “I think it’s still a bit stubbly.” 

“Aha,” Bateman acknowledged and quickly took your hand in his big one, briefly kissing the top of it and giving you the razor. “I told you, I’d need your help, Cupcake.” “How do you even do it yourself?”

“The razors I use are much sharper than this one, honey,” he chuckled but once you placed the razor against his skin he stopped moving. “Just be careful.”

The last phrase struck a chord inside your chest and you even stopped for a moment to take a deep breath before you eventually began to shave the rest of the stubble. All the while, Patrick would glance at you attentively, his hazel irises like hypnotizing spirals, so you forced yourself to stay focused on the razor and the patch of his skin still covered in a shaving cream.

“You have such soft skin,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but you were sure he heard it. “It’s so pleasurable to touch.”

“(Y/n),” he suddenly called out your name in a stern voice. “I think we should talk about yesterday.” “No…”

"Listen to me," he grabbed the hand that held the razor and pushed it to the side. "You should stop taking that sedative."

“It was just an accident.” 

“You could die, Cupcake…”

"I...I know...I owe you for saving me," you finally stated, releasing your hand to finish shaving him. "But let me take care of my life."

“Ouch.”

“Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” You jolted in panic, almost dropping the razor as if you were hit by the electric shot.

“Yes, you did,” Bateman glided a palm along his now perfectly shaved cheeks. “With your words.”

Letting out a sad sigh, you put the razor into the sink next to you and reached for another towel for him as you watched him washing his face. The more you kept silent, the more palpable the tension was getting in the air and after a brief moment of contemplating, you decided that the best option now was just to go to the kitchen and cook.

“Toothbrush is here.” You murmured and got up from the bathroom counter, about to leave but Patrick stopped you. 

First, you glanced down at his grasp around your wrist, then you raised your eyes to meet his walnut ones, now they were absolutely dark and demanding. Inch by inch, the man was getting closer, soon you could feel the fresh scent of your soap on his wet skin as he pressed you along his broad form, one hand rested on the small of your back, while another snaked beneath your robe to outline one of your hard peaks, which were visible through the fabric.

“Pat-Patrick…”

“No more ‘Daddy’ again, huh?” he whispered into your ear, playing with your stray lock. “Do you remember how many times you called me like that last night?”

‘No! I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember this, I…’

“...your sweet voice sounded so good with all these little dirty pleas, ‘Daddy, don’t stop, mmhm-please!’ Uhhh, that was really something,” Bateman crooned against your neck, forcing you to step back until he trapped you between his massive body and bathroom counter. “Got you.”

There was nothing to say more, once his warm mouth latched on yours, the urge to deny him fading with every second of the kiss, especially when Patrick savagely sucked on your lower lip and drew his tongue across it as if asking for permission to slip inside.

Gasping, you instinctively inclined your head to the side for a moment and the man used it for showering your delicate neck with little peeks which then transformed into wet, red marks. This sweet torture could last forever if you suddenly didn’t press your palm against his naked chest in a determined way.

“We can’t,” you protested when he got down to kiss you again. “You’re engaged, don’t you think it’s so mean to…cheat on your fiance?”

The man couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What does that have to do with anything? You owe me, Cupcake, you owe me a lot.” 

Annoyed, you made an attempt to push him away, but you obviously failed as Patrick was too strong, looming over you like a mountain. “If you mean the last time—I already thanked you and moreover, I didn’t ask you to do it, you know?” You watched his face changing into something more impish, the corners of his lips curled up as if everything was happening according to his plan. “You always decide for me…maybe it’s time to stop?”

Bateman chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to finally open your eyes?”

“Are you…really telling me this?!”

“You owe me a pretty big sum of money,” the man suddenly turned the conversation in another way. “And we had a deal…” Carefully, he trailed his finger along your cheek like an artist admiring his most precious creation. “Do you think I’d be so patient with your bad attitude to me if I were not really into you, hmm?”

The last words made you swallow hard and turned away for a moment, as you were on the verge of tears. Did he really just confirm that there was some kind of affection for you from his side?

“I…I know I owe a lot of money, but believe me, I’ll back them soon,” you removed his arms from your waist but the next second, Patrick placed them on the bathroom counter behind you from both sides, not allowing you to go away. “Please, believe me.”

“I don’t need that fucking money,” Patrick barked and unexpectedly gripped your shoulders, but when he noticed the glowing fear in your eyes, the man loosened his grasp and cupped your face. “I need you. Both your body and soul.”

Closing your eyes, you wanted to sink through the ground. “You want me to do things that you can’t buy with money…” you declared with a chilling coldness in your voice. “Other women are okay with being your toys, but I’m not. Now, let's finish this conversation, it won’t lead to anything.”

A tired sigh broke out from Bateman’s broad chest and for a second he even thought to let you go and turned over the page of the story of two broken souls, who met themselves so suddenly. Maybe now was that exact moment he was waiting so long, the moment to open the cards and confess, even though Patrick could hardly believe it would work.

"You don't seem to be listening to me at all," was all the man could say. "And that's not surprising, since no one really listens to me. Because...uhh...because no one really cares about what really bothers me…" He let you go and stepped back. "And you...I thought you were the only person who...who actually tried to understand me and act naturally."

"Patrick..."

He raised his hand in an eloquent gesture to let him continue. "You probably did it all because of the debt, but...I'll be honest, sometimes I made myself believe that you weren't acting like this just because of the money."

"Is this another manipulation?" You asked bluntly, holding back your tears. "How could I believe you after all the things you did to me? How many times did you treat me like a puppet that you no longer wanted to play with? And not to mention that you turned out to be engaged!" You grabbed your head and leaned against the bathroom counter, massaging your temples. "This is already too much."

The man huffed and cautiously approached you. With a soft, feathery movement, he touched your hands and pulled them away from your strained face. "At least you seem to care that I'm engaged," he said abruptly, moving you closer so that your head was now pressed against his massive chest. "I know it's overwhelming, (y/n). But..." the words suddenly stuck in his throat like a lump. "You're not alone in this." Patrick urged curly, running his large palm along the crown of your head before resting his chin on it, inhaling the scent of your soft hair. 

‘Not alone’, you repeated inside your head and looked up into his brown eyes, which were now so stern and contemplative—you have never seen them like that before. This man, oh God, this man was such a mess, he was making you lose the ground beneath your feet with his sudden confessions, but in the end, actions spoke louder than words, even though you wanted to believe him and sink into the strong feeling you had towards him—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in him as you would burn out like a match.

All the while you were standing like that, Bateman was hoping you would say something in return, but when you didn’t, he just released you from his embrace without saying a thing. Overwhelmed by emotions, you left the bathroom and let him finish his hygienic routine in private.

A bit later, you didn’t even remember how you cooked a breakfast for both of you, the only thing you did remember was his positive comment that it tasted pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile, though your plate still stood untouched. Patrick noticed that, but didn’t make any comments about that.

“To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to be that nice,” he chuckled and finished his glass of mineral water that he didn’t really like. Quickly checking his Rolex, which he wore right after he took a shower, he added, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?”

“Sure.” You raised up and quickly strolled to the iron board where his suit and shirt were waiting to be presented to their owner. “Here, I ironed them for you.”

Bateman froze in shock for a moment. “You…ironed them?”

“Uh, yes, but I did it very carefully, I know everything you wear is utterly expensive,” you gave him his garments and he started to examine every thing with meticulous attention. “I…I thought you wouldn’t like to go outside in rumpled clothes.”

"That's… that's very sweet of you, Cupcake. Really…" he replied, his blush barely noticeable to anyone but you. "Thanks…thanks for everything."

“You’re welcome.” You murmured shyly, crossing your arms over the chest and watching him getting up from the table and walking to your bedroom to dress up.

Moments later, you both were standing in your small hallway, Patrick fixing his tie and coat, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“How do I look?” He asked nonchalantly, putting on the headphones of his Walkman.

Slightly upset, you leaned against the wall, your eyes gliding up and down his elegant, tall silhouette; the way the dark blue trench coat sat on his broad shoulders made you almost gasp in admiration.

“Perfect as always,” you stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. “You’re like a Vogue cover which came alive.”

Fluttered, Bateman smiled and caught your hand to place a kiss on top of it. “And I always believe your compliments, they are so…sincere or…” he paused and looked into your eyes. “...or I’m just fooling myself.”

His usual chuckling now was less happy and it stirred something inside of you, so when you got up on your toes to kiss his cheek, Patrick took it like another chance to be intimate with you. With unhidden tenderness, the man pulled you into his arms to seal your mouths with a soft but passionate kiss which brought some unexpected relief for both of you.

“You know, I…I really appreciate your courage to be open with me,” you suddenly confessed when he broke the kiss, still holding you close. “It’s just that I need some time to think over things and…my life is such a mess.”

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that," Bateman sneered ironically to himself. "Since I know who made your life so messy," he stopped you from saying anything else by pressing his finger to your lips. Then the man slowly leaned down so that your foreheads now touched in the most intimate way. "Promise me you won't take those pills again."

"And you promise me you won't say things like no one gives a fuck about you," you gripped his arm, rubbing his firm bicep under the soft fabric of his coat. "Because I do give a fuck about you, even though I don't really like it."

"We'll talk about...us. That's the only promise I can make right now."

"Us?"

"You heard what I said," he pinched your nose, just like after the fashion show. "I'll call you today and Cupcake?" He leaned down to whisper in your ear, accidentally brushing his nose against your neck. "You're always on my mind, but I still haven't decided if it's good or not." The way he used your words to tease you brought a broad smile to your face, but the next time, all joy faded as the man stroked your cheek one last time before stepping aside to check himself in the mirror. "Hope to see you soon, darling."

With that he closed the door behind him and as much as you hated saying goodbye, you hated the moments like that, when you couldn’t control yourself as your emotions peaked, causing your knees to buckle and you stopped yourself from falling down only because you managed to lean on the nearby wall. The whole thing about your relationship with Bateman was one big mistake, as you would never find yourself belonging to this world—your meeting was a joke of fate—no less to say. Although you knew it, your heart was like a rebellion who refused to listen, to obey, to accept the truth that there were no chances to turn this situation in a way that would help these relationships to become healthy and normal. ‘Normal, huh? Do yuppies even know such a word?’ Laughing ironically to yourself, you got up and went back into your kitchen to wash the dishes. The sight of Patrick sitting here with a glass of water in his hand was still so fresh in your mind, but now you began to doubt if that really had happened. 

All day later, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, waiting for his call but he never did it. It was not surprising after the shit that man had done, but today you were really hoping he would keep his word. But your hopes were broken to pieces again, in the most brutal possible way because you really decided to give it a try and believed him.

When the night came to New York City, you were standing in your living room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking about what would you do next and trying to think less about what Patrick was doing right now…and even less about with whom he probably could be. ‘...with Courtney or maybe with his fiance, Evelyn?’ You snickered sadly to yourself and finished your drink. Coffee was supposed to help you to keep awake but instead it only made you even more sleepy, so you didn’t even realize how you fell asleep on your little couch while putting down the notes of how today’s day had gone in your diary.

The next moment you were awakened by the sudden doorbell, which caught you off guard and even scared you a bit as you didn’t wait for anyone. Quickly enveloping your robe, you got up and saunted to the door to look at the peephole—you would lie to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting someone specific, but when you saw nothing but flowers, your heart skipped a beat. 

With one swift motion, you opened the door and an unknown guy instantly greeted you with a polite tone. “Good morning, miss (y/n),” he then handed you a big bouquet of red and white roses—it was so heavy you could barely hold it. “Uh, can you please put your sign here?”

Confused, you pressed the flowers to your chest to see the man’s face. “Are you… are you sure it’s for me?”

The courier only smiled and giggled. “Of course, but you can check the address, if you want,” the man showed you the paper with the order details. “We make no mistakes, miss, that’s why our service is the best around New York.”

“I see,” you responded and put your signature on the place he pointed you. “But, can I ask you who sent me this?”

“There’s a card inside if I’m not mistaken,” the courier replied and with that he put the paper inside his bag. “Have a good day, ma'am.”

“Thanks.” 

With that, you closed the door and somehow proceeded into your living room where you put the bouquet on the coffee table and began to look for the vase for it. When you managed to find it, you poured some water and placed the flowers into it, then you remembered the courier’s words about the card and the next second you were already leafing through the flowers. Soon, a small white card caught your attention and when you picked it out, the first thing you noticed was two beautiful letters—P.B. in the end of the text which said: 

“Good morning, my sweet Cupcake, 

I’m sorry I didn’t call you tonight, I was extremely busy and didn’t really have any free time, but I hope this little gift would cheer you up a bit. What do you think about going to a yacht club these weekends? I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Utterly yours, P.B.” 

Your hands began to shake the moment you finished reading, but you managed to regain your composure. Driven by the unbridled happiness inside your chest, you leaned down to inhale the sweet scent of flowers—God, it felt like a dream. And speaking of dreaming—you were still so sleepy that after you finally calmed down, you decided to come back into the bed and nap a little bit longer. The sheets were still smelling of him, coaxing you to rub your face against the pillows and imagine him being here with you and somehow, you finally realized how deep this man was rooted inside your heart. ‘Utterly yours…’ You kept replaying these words inside your head until you drifted off to another dream, but this time, it was not a nightmare, but a heaven where Patrick was only yours, and you were his only one.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[luvhughes43]

so it goes | jack hughes

[journalist!au masterlist⭐️]

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 6.5k

jack hughes had thin curtains. you would think that a 22 year old millionaire would invest in good curtains, but alas here you were. the sun shone into his room, and you could do nothing but groan as rays of warm light illuminated your face and his. 

you swore jack was a cat with how completely unbothered he was all the time. he’d happily lay and soak up the sun, not bothering to twist away from the light now encasing the room. you look over to your daughter, who slept exactly like her father. leighton was sprawled out on her back, completely content as the sun shone off her.  

“you need better curtains,” you mumble, too awake now to fall back asleep. jack snores lightly in response, and so you move to drape one of leightons baby blankets over the top of her bassinet to help shield her from the light. 

“where u goi-ing?” jack's speech is slurred, and you watch with butterflies as he stretches out across his bed and paws at the empty space where you once were resting. It felt wrong to want him. nothing had happened last night, and yet you were wanting him as if it were two years ago and you hadn’t broken up with him. you wish one of you had been smarter and been the first one to pick up the phone. 

speaking of phones, you pick up yours only to see a slew of messages from friends. you click on claudia's first, and your heart immediately drops.

claudia: i think vivienne was talking about you and jack on her podcast??

claudia: idk she said Jack may have cheated and now ppl are going crazyy

claudia: this is genuinely insane when I catch vivienne…

you: did she mention my name?? did she say anything about leighton ?

you wander out into the kitchen, perching on an island stool with your lip between your teeth. 

claudia: link

claudia: no she didn’t drop names but people are digging. some of jack's fans on twitter are putting the pieces together and speculating that you're the ex but it hasn’t gotten out yet. 

you: wtf

as soon as you send the last message your phone rings with a call. “hello?” 

“what are we going to do about this?” claudia's voice rings out through my speaker and you hastily turn the volume down. 

“well, there's not much that I can do right now”

“uh, you can sue her ass! hello!” 

“sue her for what?

“i don’t know… defamation?” you put claudia on speaker and then swipe up on the call. you do a quick search on twitter, and by screenshots and transcripts it's clear the podcast was solely focuses on jack and whether or not he cheated. “i’m not going to sue her,” you sigh and claudia groans in annoyance. 

“why not?”

you take a second and pause, “well if i sue her everybody would know that i was the ex and also, i don’t even think there’s legal grounds for-”

“okay jack can sue,”

“i don’t think anyone needs to sue,” you reply, setting your phone on the countertop so that you can make yourself a coffee. hopefully jack had some pain meds because your head was starting to throb…

“i’ll talk to Jack about it, but things like this go away. i’m not going to risk leighton getting exposed to crazy fans and to be subjected to vivienne's publicity”

“vivienne has already damaged that little girl's life,”

“and so I'm not going to let her do anything else! if vivienne speaks on leighton then i'll look into my legal options. but no, i'm not going to let her get any more of my time. i need to focus on my daughter, and my family, so if some influencer wants to go on the internet spreading lies then so be it! i’m done with her. I can’t handle any more than i already have,”

claudia's silent on the line and for a brief second you're afraid she’s hung up the phone. “claudia…?”

“she’s going to get her karma. she can’t be let off the hook forever”

“oh, trust she will. but i’m not going to have a hand in it,”

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by oliviajade, alisha, alix_earle, and 267 092 others

vivienne as promised… some exciting things are coming your guys’ way! follow viv212 to stay in the loop! 💆🏼‍♀️🍾

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oliviajade cant waittt!! <3

alisha youre stunnninggg ! cant wait to have you on the pod!❤️

user01 ahh so excited to see what u have in store viv!!

user02 we know what u did!!!

user03 ?

user02 don't question me.

claudiasphotos posted 2 years ago !

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claudiasphotos yn 📸🥂

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser love you!!! thank you for the incredible photos🫶

jackhughes ❤️‍🔥

newest comments

user04 jacks heart?? the tag?? is this his ex gf

user05 wait what

user06 claudia is yn’s friend! they both follow each other

user05 maybe yn just modelled?

user07 how tf did u guys find this acc? Im crying there's no way😭😭

⋆ ★

when jack found out about the podcast episode he was beyond pissed off. vivienne telling everyone that he was a cheater was one thing, but spreading those lies knowing that she helped keep him away from his daughter… he had never felt rage quite like it. 

“i’m getting lawyers involved,” is all jack says to yn when he passes her phone back to her. “i don't want her speaking about us ever again,” jack’s voice is steady and firm. 

“what are you asking the lawyers to do?” 

“sue her, make her take down the video, i don't know they’ll find something,” jack rambles, pulling out his own phone from his pocket.

“i just want to make sure that she doesn’t speak about leighton,” you say, deliberately choosing not to say vivienne's name.

jack looks away from his phone to make eye contact with you. “i swear i’ll make sure of it,” 

“thank you,” you respond simply, cradling your head in the palm of your hand. when was this nightmare going to end. 

⋆ ★

“you’ve got to take the video down,” viviennes manager, louis reiterates for the tenth time. 

“well, no” vivienne sasses as she scrolls through her social blade. “it’s pulling in insane numbers i’m not taking it down because of one complaint,”

“lawsuit, it’s a lawsuit vivienne” louis sighs, cursing himself for even taking influencers on as clients. 

vivienne sighs dramatically. “i dated jack for months, the video should be my compensation”

“his lawyers want you to sign an NDA,” 

“well i’m not signing or taking down anything,” 

theres a tense silence for a minute before louis groans in frustration. “he doesn’t want you talking about his kids,”

“kid. singular. he only has the one,” 

“can you stop being difficult? you’re going to lose more money than you’ll gain if you don’t just settle with jack. delete the video, and sign the NDA that his lawyers are going to send over,”

“but-”

“but nothing! your brand is dropping next week. if you delete the video now people will be tuned into your next moves,” louis explains his business plan, even though he’s mentally cursing vivienne in his mind. 

“fine.” vivienne stubbornly admits defeat as she switches off her social blade and logs into her podcast channel. 

⋆ ★

⋆ ★

it was the beginning of december now, and jack’s schedule has picked back up now that he was back to playing. as well as the busy schedule, vivienne had finally signed the NDA jacks lawyers had sent over, and with her podcast episode scrubbed from the internet all was well for the moment. 

on jack’s days off it wasn’t uncommon to find him at his ex-girlfriends place, which is why when y/n got off work she didn’t bat an eye that jack was chilling on her couch with their baby in his arms. 

“did you pay the babysitter?” you ask absentmindedly as you shrug off your coat and let your work bag drop to the ground. 

“yes i did! isn’t that right leighton? daddy paid the sitter?” jack coos, eyes never straying from the little girl in his arms. leighton giggles loudly, her little hands smacking at her dads cheeks who grins in delight. 

“thank you!” you call out as you round towards the kitchen. “are you staying for dinner?”

jack gets up off the couch and settles himself in the kitchen. leightons little hand grips at her dads shirt, the other tugging on his finger. “do you mind?”

“no,” you reply softly, and when you look up from the pantry you catch eyes with jacks. you immediately feel delighted and delirious at the sight of him (looking handsome) with your girl resting happily in his hold. “leighton, do you want daddy to stay for dinner?” 

“dada!” leighton squeaks, and both yours and jack’s heads whip towards the small girl. 

“did you just say dada?” jack giggles, his face lit up with pure joy.

“dada!” she says again, wiggling in his grasp. 

you gasp, “our baby’s first word!” and rush to be by jack’s side. he looks up at you fondly before using one of his arms to bring you closer to his side. “leighton! say it again, say dada!”

leighton doesn’t respond this time, just giggling happily at her parents' happy words and sounds of encouragement. “she said my name,” jack whispers sappily, and when you look at his face you see tears line his eyes. 

“she knows who her daddy is,” you smile tearfully, leaning your head against jack’s who leans his against your chest. 

“i’m so happy i get to know her,” jack’s voice is quiet as he gazes at his daughter. he still wasn’t over the fact that he missed your pregnancy and the first few months of leightons life, but hearing his daughter call for him certainly helps ease some of the sadness. 

you don’t reply to jack’s comment, knowing that there’s nothing in the world that you can say that would erase any of the past. so instead you brush your hand through jack’s hair, and enjoy the happy moment. 

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by viv212, alixearle, and 137 008 others

vivienne so beyond excited to announce that my haircare brand viv212, is being released next friday! please follow the viv212 account for updates, posts, and product info before the first launch! i love you guys so much! mwah <3

tagged: viv212

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alixearle loveeeee

alexandracooper Cannot waitt!!

user08 AHH VIV!! <33 

user09 saving up as we speak🫂

user10 another influencer brand… we do NOT care!!

⋆ ★

jack’s voice rings out through your phone's speaker, his face half in view as he brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. you guys were just talking nonsense now - you had both put your daughter to bed a long time ago but jack didn’t get off facetime like you had expected him to. 

you were both distracted which if claudia asks, is your excuse for staying on facetime with him so late. because really, you were catching up on work and it just so happens that jack was talking to you in the background. 

“do you think if i started reading now then my brain power would double?” jack asks absentmindedly through a mouth full of toothpaste. he spits, “quinns doing it and he says he feels smarter. but i don't know,” 

“i don't know about double… but it’d definitely help!” you tease, looking up from your mounds of documents to catch jack pouting at you. 

“that's kind of mean!” he replies as he rinses off his tooth brush. “but whatever, what are you doing for the holidays?” 

you watch silently as jack pulls his phone off the hotel bathroom counter, and tosses it on his bed. you stare at his hotel room ceiling as you reply, “my parents are going on vacation so i’m just gonna stay here. do you have any plans?” 

jack picks up his phone - shirt noticeably gone - before he settles himself in his bed. “my family’s gonna fly in to jersey. quinn’s coming too. it’s just easier with our schedules and luke and i being here already,” he responds, and you nod along to his words. you missed the hughes family. they were so unlike your family growing up. their parents were present and not always gone for work, and it felt so nice to be around siblings who weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. 

“that’s really nice,” you hum. “i have a few days off during your break. you should pick a date when we’re both free for your family to meet leighton,” 

“mom’s so excited,” jack chuckles. “i keep sending her photos and videos but it’s never enough,” 

“your mom’s so sweet,” you smile, leaning your head in your palm as you look at jack. “she texts me everyday just to check in and wish me well,” 

jack smiles back, and you would pay any amount to know what he was thinking. “quinn’s excited too. luke keeps teasing him about how he met the baby first,” 

you roll your eyes - that was such a luke thing to do - and before you can reply there's a sharp succession of knocks at your door. 

“are you expecting someone…?” jack asks with a frown, and you shake your head. 

“not that i know off… one second,” you walk towards the front door and if you had brought your phone with you you would have seen the worry and concern etched on jacks face. 

you look through your doors peephole, before shouting a quick, “it’s just claudia!” which causes jack to visibly relax. 

“just claudia” the woman in question mimics as you finally open the door. “who are you talking to,” 

“jack,” you reply, and claudia rolls her eyes dramatically as she pulls her shoes off and wanders over to your phone. 

she waves at jack, before telling him that you have to hang up. you barely get a good-bye in when she’s hanging up the call and turning towards you with a grin. “you're still talking to jack? at 9:30pm on a monday…” she teases, and takes your spot at the counter. 

“we were putting leighton to bed!” you refute, ignoring the knowing looks your best friend was sending your way. 

“uh-huh,” she shakes her head. “you’re unbelievable!” 

“no i’m not! that’s my daughter's father! who, by the way… was her first word,” 

“yah yah, if auntie c were easier to pronounce she’d call my name first,” claudia laughs before composing herself. “but seriously y/n, you guys broke up for a reason. you can’t just forget all about that now that you see him with the baby,” 

“i’m not getting back together with him! it’s different now. we’re just friends,” you defend pathetically, knowing very well that you were already re-developing feelings for your ex. 

“i just want you to be careful,” claudia stresses, grabbing a hold of your hands and pulling you into the chair next to her. 

“i wasn’t in the right headspace last time. i was insecure and i-”

“he was still liking other people’s posts and staring down models babe, just be careful please,” claudia reiterates. 

you nod, knowing that she was ultimately right. “we have better communication now. we’ve grown,” 

 “whatever you say!” claudia wraps up the conversation, before diving into the reason she actually came over. “okay, but i logged into my photography account and people are starting to connect the dots that you’re, well… you”

“what do you mean?” you question, picking up all of your work documents and placing them back in your bag. 

“there’s a few instagram comments speculating. jack left a heart comment on one of my posts about you when you were still dating, and his fans have just found it now. do you want me to go private? delete the comments? i don't know,” claudia explains, pulling up her photography instagram and scrolling through the comment section of said posts. 

you think for a minute, before responding simply, “keep it up, i don’t really care”. claudia nods and logs out of the account. 

⋆ ★

drama.alert 

liked by trevorzegras, and 11 913 others

drama.alert people have finally received their viv212 hair products after a massive delay in shipment, and unfortunately the product is causing their hair to fallout :/ despite being asked to comment, vivienne nor her team have responded to the accusations. not the best way to start a brand is it? what are you guy’s thoughts?

tagged: vivienne, viv212

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user11 whoever buys haircare from an influencer deserves it lowkey🤷‍♀️

user12 yikesss😬 looks like the products were rushed and there wasn’t a lot of time to get the formula right… i hope everyone who lost hair grows it back quickly. what a shame. 

user13 i honestly can’t believe she hasn't spoken up yet. the people who bought her products were all fans so this is just soo disappointing. she better apologize and start refunding people soon or she’s going to lose A LOT of loyal fans and viewers. 

user14 YUP! this! and did u see the pr reviews? lotss of acting going on lol. you can tell that nobody likes the products and it's obvious as to why! very messy and not good at all. 

user15 trevor? wtf are you doing here??😭

user16 he stands on business

user17 trevor is so damn messy liking this im cryingg

user18 who tf is trevor?

user17 jacks best friend lol 

user18 ohh that's so nasty..😭

vivienne

liked by mikaylajmakeup, tanamongeau, and 68 002 others

vivienne i hope u guys are loving all the products! let me know if u guys got anything💐

tagged: viv212

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viv212 😍😍✨

user19 yeah girl we did get products… AND NOW MY HAIR HAS STARTED TO FALL OUT!

user20 this is so out of touch. you’ve ruined so many peoples hair!! apologize!!!

user20 youve really shown ur true colours lol.

user21 posting this as if u haven't ruined so many of ur fans hair… wow..

user22 ignore all the hate viv! I know u just haven't seen the reviews! take all the time u need to respond <3

user23 bffr she's just money hungry and dgaf if she ruins her fans hair for money. shes weird af

⋆ ★

if you thought work was rough before - with all the bad articles you were given- you weren’t prepared for what was waiting for you on monday. after a peaceful weekend with your babygirl and your best friend claudia, the last thing you were expecting was to receive the worst case you’d ever been assigned. 

“y/n, we need you to cover social media drama today,” your boss had said. there were a million headlines rushing through your mind, from small scandals to non-disclosure disputes, you hadn’t even considered you’d be assigned to write about… viviennes new brand. 

“i mean, are you fucking kidding me?” you whisper-shout to claudia through the phone. you were pacing inside the girl’s washroom, disbelief written across all your features as you stare perplexed at the folder in your hand. “her brand is making peoples hair fall out. and i have to write about it… this is a joke. this actually can’t be real,”

“are you even allowed to write about her? with jack’s NDA and everything?” claudia asks from the bathroom stall at her work. 

“i mean, it was just about leighton and my identity, and the whole jack cheating thing, i don’t think it applies to this,” you're beyond stressing. the story had to be finished by lunch and here you were, pacing the bathroom borderline having a panic attack. “i think i’m going to pass out,” 

“okay breathe! breathe!” claudia's voice was loud and clear on the other line. “you’re just going to write the article with indifference, and everythings going to be fine!” 

“indifference? she fucking kept jack from finding out about our baby and harassed me?” you seethe, stopping in front of the sink to splash your face with some water. “this article is going to be so biased,”

“regardless of your history, she's an asshole. i mean she’s literally causing people’s hair to fall out,” claudia states, flushing so her coworkers don’t get suspicious of her long bathroom break. 

“i’m just going to write it and i’ll call jack once he's out of practice,” you settle, knowing there is really no way out of your work. even if you told your boss you had a history with vivienne and that there was going to be bias, they wouldn’t care. they just wanted the story posted so they’d garner as many clicks as possible since it was going viral right now. 

“okay, good luck! love you,” claudia says her goodbyes, and with a quick i love you back, you hang up on your best friend and prepare to write. 

⋆ ★

you had called jack after his practice, but with the articles deadline hastily approaching there was nothing you could do to delay writing the article. jack of course understands, offering a quick, “i’m sure she won’t read it anyway,” before he was called back into whatever a hockey job required on the daily. 

once the article was published on the newspaper's website, and vivienne hadn’t outright harassed you, you take a deep relieved breath before continuing with the rest of your day. 

⋆ ★

of course, vivienne the lurker had seen y/ns article about her hair products. she’s seen every little message and video about the whole situation, and so as tempting as it is to find y/ns number and send her a… compromising video of jack, she resisted. instead, she took her anger out on her manager who insisted she sign an NDA in the first place. 

“you made me sign that stupid document! now i can’t even say anything about her! she's slandering my name and brand!” vivienne yells, fuming as she paces around her office. her manager, who was sitting on one of her chairs, rolls his eyes. 

“you wouldn’t be able to say anything regardless of the NDA. you know you’re in the wrong with the whole, y/n-jack-baby situation. and plus, lashing out at journalists won’t do you any good when you post your apology,”

“it's not fair!” vivienne whines. “what am i supposed to do? she’s just going to get away with this?”

“your interns and i have worked up a statement for you to record. you should probably try and get ahead of this now before it's too late,” her manager finishes, placing a small packet of papers on vivienne's desk. 

“whatever,” she huffs stubbornly, leafing through the small apology packet. 

⋆ ★

after a rough two weeks, it was finally time for the rest of the hughes family to meet baby leighton. ellen and jim were beyond ecstatic, carrying armloads of gifts for their granddaughters first holiday season. 

the family comes to visit after leightons nap, so for the grand reveal you sit the family down in your living room and bring your daughter to them. “awh… she’s so sweet!” ellen immediately starts to tear up as you slowly place the tired baby in her arms. “leighton baby,” she coos, finger tracing leightons little nose as the baby looks up at her. “she looks just like jack when he wa a baby,” 

“she’s perfect, guys,” jim speaks next, gently holding little leightons hand in his larger one. 

quinn sits quietly just taking in the sweet moment. he remembers the night jack first called him, panicked and lost about the whole situation. he was just so glad everything was working out for his younger brother, and to see jack become a father? it was surreal. 

“i don’t think i want to let her go,” ellen laughs softly as tears spill down her face. jack discretely wipes away his own stray tears as he watches his parents fall in love with his daughter. 

“that’s how i felt when i first met her too,” jack laughs weakly as he presses the corner of his sleeve into the corner of his eyes. you stand close behind him, rubbing his back comfortingly and he leans into your touch. every time you were reminded of what happened, you felt such a strong pang of guilt. like it was somehow your fault that jack didn’t get to experience the pregnancy, birth, and first few months of his baby’s life. 

ellen passes the baby to her husband, and then slowly makes her way over to you. she holds out her arms, and you easily walk into them. “you did so good,” she says, and all of your feelings bubble to the surface as you softly cry. 

“i’m really sorry,” you whisper to her and she only holds you tighter. “i should've tried harder - i thought that he didn't want to be in her life,” you gasp through your tears. ellen squeezes you and whispers reassuringly in your ear. she was always so kind to you and it made you feel sick sometimes - this family loves so thoroughly and effortlessly, something you missed from your own parents. 

when your calm enough, you remove yourself from ellens arms. jim was now cuddling leighton and quinn was leaning over his shoulder. luke was teasing jack about something, having already met leighton a long time ago. when jack notices you're no longer hugging his mom, he grabs hold of your hand and gently soothes his thumb across the back of your hand. 

you spend the rest of the evening in your apartment surrounded by family. 

⋆ ★

ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, claudia, and others

ynuser leightons first holiday season🥹🤍

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes to many more!❤️

colecaufield did you get the gifts i sent? 

ynuser yes! leighton loves all the habs merch!

jackhughes but she loves the devils more!

trevorzegras cant wait to meet her!❤️

_quinnhughes lee is the cutest!❤️

claudia loveee😭😭🫶

user1 happy holiday sweetheart! 

jackhughes added to his close friends! 

⋆ ★

after viviennes less than impressive apology, her fans quickly gave up on the star. people who were only invested in vivienne for the jack hughes drama, grew bored, and angry fans were boycotting viviennes videos and social media platforms to show the influencer their disappointment with her behaviour. she lost thousands of followers, and she was absolutely pissed off. 

behind the scenes, her friend emily was fuming. vivienne had promised her a shoutout on her pages in order to boast the girls social blade, and with all the recent drama vivienne kept pushing the dates. so, emily did what she thought was best.

REDDIT SNARK PAGE

user455595654: vivienne aiden sent nasty messages to jack’s ex girlfriend while she was dating him from random instagram accounts. here are some of the tamer ones lol. she drunkenly confessed to me one night and i got her to send me ss to keep as collateral incase she fucks things up as usual. so there's that

jack hated you so bad that he couldn't stand being a father to his child... and you know that he wants to be a dad in the future. gonna make him a dad and send u the pics. know ur worth nothing

he never wanteddd you... and know he doesnt want his baby

happy birthday to your baby! thought i'd send u a message since we know jack's not.

crazy that you get to look at your babygirl and know that she was abandoned. probably hurts

he's all up on me :)

⋆ ★

“did you want to take any of the clothes leightons got for your house?” you ask jack as you fold leightons laundry. jack’s family and friends went a little overboard with the gifts, and so now you were left with dozens of little onesies and clothes in various different team styles. 

jack glances over at you and nods, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so distracted. he’s barely taken his eyes off his phone in the past half-hour, and even though it was none of your business you were starting to worry. 

“do you have any preference?” you follow up, hoping to get at least a response. 

“uh,” jack tears his eyes away from his phone and takes a deep breath. “i’ll uh, whatever you think,”

you sit in silence for a moment, thumbing quietly through your daughter's pile of clothes before deciding to question jack. “okay, what’s going on is there-”

“did uh, did vivienne…” you pale immediately at his words as your heart starts racing. “the messages she sent you uh,”

“what-”

“someone posted them online and i just - they got sent to me and i need you to confirm if they’re real of if someones just fucking around,” jack finishes shakily, and you sit in shock as he passes his phone over to you with unsteady hands. 

there were so many messages, each taking you back to when you first received them. you remember the panic each time a new one came in, how you kept blocking viviennes accounts and how a new one always replaced it. you nod slowly, and jack breathes in. 

“i’m going to- i-” he stutters, cluelessly trying to piece together a coherent plan. 

you pass his phone back, and slowly focus your gaze onto jack. his hands are trembling, and his jaw keeps clenching as he scrambles to make sense of what he’s been reading. “why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“i’m sorry,” your voice is quiet and jack has to strain his ears to hear you. the familiar pang of guilt wells up in you again and you so desperately wish that you had just told jack the full truth. that there were dozens of more messages, and that you had been receiving them for much longer than you had let on. that you received instagram follow requests from accounts impersonating your coworkers and friends in attempts to bait you to accept them. you knew vivienne was borderline stalking you, but you didn’t want to worry jack further. you witnessed his reaction to the first batch of messages, how he gagged and cried and blamed himself. you shouldn’t have hid the rest from him, but you didn’t want to be the one to expose him to all the hurtful things you were dealing with. you wanted to put an end to the past and to move on, but it seemed vivienne and whoever was in her close circle were determined to keep you hooked and battered. 

“is there anything else? i want to know everything,” jack replies, his hands twisting together as he fidgets. you nod slowly, and jack looks sick with worry as you beckon him to sit down.

you take a deep breath before pulling out your phone. you still had all of viviennes messages saved in your dm requests, and you click on one of her burner accounts. “she uh, sent me these pictures after i had given birth,” you explain with a shaky voice. when you pass over your phone, jack sees all the lewd pictures his ex had sent to you. pictures of the two of them, cropped so you couldn't make out the faces but it was still so blindingly obvious. some of the pictures were tame, jacks back to the camera as he cooked with a simple caption “he’s so sweet to me❤️”. others not so much - dark lingerie, jacks hands wrapped around viviennes body and cupping her boobs. a picture of his head resting against her naked chest, her hand buried in his hair. it went on and on, all with annoying captions talking about how he was hers and that he didn’t want a family. 

the worst picture though was of an unused pregnancy test sitting in the palm of viviennes hand, “he’ll love our baby!❤️” . 

it took awhile to go through everything, and jack sat unusually quiet as he switches between different message threads. “i, i don’t know what to do,” jack admits after you had showed him everything. 

“there’s nothing that you can do,” you reply simply.

“i didn’t get her pregnant,” he states, completely disregarding your reply. “she was just being cruel and trying to bait you or something-”

“jack i know-”

“and you know that if i knew about leighton i wouldn't have abandoned her, and those pictures, i didn’t know she was taking half of them let alone sending them to you, i just-”

you place a hand on jacks arm, silently urging him to stop explaining. “i know,” 

“i’m just- learning about all of this for the first time-” 

you let your hand trail down jack’s arm, and then you slip your hand into his. you squeeze twice, and then run your thumb along the width of his hand - a habit you picked up when the two of you were dating. jack squeezes back. 

you don’t have time to say anything else before leightons soft cries spill out of the baby monitor. “da-da,” she whines, and when you turn to look at the monitor you see her thrashing around in her crib. 

“i’ll get her,” jack says with a gentle tone as he squeezes your hand one more time. 

you cuddle into your throw blanket, completely and mentally exhausted from the night's events when you hear jack’s soft voice through the monitor. 

“i’m always gonna be here for you okay? dada will always be here,” 

“i love you my sweet girl, always.”

 ⋆ ★

he had liked her. he had actually liked vivienne when they were together and the thought makes him feel sick. 

jack had first met her two months after his breakup with y/n. it was way too soon in his opinion - but his teammates were relentless and tired of his moping around. so, instead of picking up the phone and dialing y/ns number he had agreed to meet the girl everyone seemed to think would be a good match for him. and she was at first, it was simple and there were no complicated feelings. jack didn’t promise to be anything, and vivienne was fine with that. there was no pressure to stay hidden, they went out and had fun. not that y/n didn't go out, but there was a clear difference between both girls and jack wasn’t mad about it. 

that didn’t stop him from thinking about y/n though. he still had a photo album dedicated to their pictures together, and he still had her favourite music neatly organized in one of his playlists. he never deleted the list of her favourite things from his phone, never unpinned the addresses of the new museums, art galleries, and coffee shops they wanted to try. jack hadn't done anything at all, instead he let himself drift and he found some comfort in a girl he wasn’t sure he even understood properly because really, there were two sides to vivienne aiden and jack didn't have a strong grasp on either. 

now that he was with y/n again, or at least raising their daughter together, he can’t help but feel the urge to get to know her again. he wanted to do everything a boyfriend would do, but the timing was always wrong. they were parents first now, and it was way too soon to start a relationship up again. 

plus, they broke up for a reason. jack would be the first person to admit that he was in the wrong. liking other girl’s picks and lingering on girls in public… meanwhile he had the most amazing girl he’d ever met on his arm. he felt like such a fucking idiot, and ruminating on those facts on the drive back to new jersey seemed like a constant these days. his communication was awful too, not apologizing and not realizing the problems sooner. now he faced those consequences, driving an hour each way to spend time with his daughter. he should be there all the time, or they should be here - whatever. 

traffic stalled, and jack sat in uncomfortable silence. no depressing country song would even come close to how awful he was feeling right now. then when he got home he’d be faced with luke and his family, all doped up on all the quality time they were fortunate enough to scrape together between everyone's busy schedules. he was so tired, and everything just seemed to keep piling up. he didn’t want to hide anymore, he was tired of vivienne dictating his life and making y/n feel awful. 

therefore a week later with your permission and before jack boarded his flight for his roadie, he posted a simple but effective instagram post. 

jackhughes 

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, dawson1417, and 361 299 others

jackhughes baby’s first holiday season❤️

view all comments

trevorzegras does she love the duck teddies i sent?

colecaufield little love bug🐞

dawson1417 my best girl !

_alexturcotte dads a dad🫡

holtz_10 bring her to the rink when were back

_quinnhughes best duo💯

lhughes_06 tell everyone who her favourite uncle is (it's me)

nicohischier happy holidays!❤️🎄

user24 WHAT THE FUCK?????

user25 JACK?? DAD??? IM SO CONFUSED WTF

user26 this has to be a joke

user27 im crying so hard is he actually a dad?? this is my worst nightmare omfg

user28 congrats on the baby hughes! being a father is hard work but its rewarding!

user29 who’s the mom??? vivienne?? 

user30 no its 1000% his ex. look jacks name up on twitter and you’ll find all the threads!

user31 omg… 

user32 im in disbelief i think i passed out what the ..

user33 this HAS to be yns baby omfg. If u compare the backgrounds of these photos it’s literall her apartment

user34 ? how tf do u know what her apartment looks like?

user33 it’s the same background in her friends pics of her

user34 that sounds genuinely psychotic im sorry!

user35 DAD JACK DAD JACK DAD JACK

everything had already gone viral with vivienne, and there was nothing else for jack to add to the public speculations aside from be truthful. so he worked behind the scenes to protect his family, and made it known he wasn’t hiding or playing anymore. 

vivienne got what she deserved, and her career would surely be over with the massive amount of hate she received, and jack knew it too. the countless voicemails she left told him enough, and with every swift delete and the final press of the block button - he felt a massive weight lift of his chest.

-

-

-

[stargirllanaa]

୨⎯ "Cruel World” - Rafe Cameron

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Noncon smut, toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, Gun violence, Drinking, ex!rafe, Rafe is actually terrible, psycho ex bf Rafe

Summary: loosely, based on ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, everything goes wrong when you spot your psycho ex bf at a New Year’s Eve party.

A/n ✎: Thank you so much for 100 followers! Ahhhh!!!! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my work, I recommend listening to the song ofc but you don’t have too. Bold and italics are flashback. Enjoy <333

Wc: just under 3k

18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

“Does anyone know where I put my eyeliner?” Your friend Nora asked you, as well as your other friend Violet.

You were all getting ready for some New Year's Eve party at Nora's boyfriend's house; everyone would be home from college for winter break, so you were excited to see all the people you went to high school with.

“No, but I know where the vodka is!” Violet chuckled,

“Come on, let's all take a shot!” Violet continued as she made her way over to you.

“Come on, y/n, are you going to pout all night? He might not even be there.” the brunette expressed as she sat beside you, bottle in hand.

She was referring to your ex, Rafe Cameron, and you knew for almost a fact that he would be there. Nora's boyfriend happened to be his best friend, Topper, and you and Rafe hadn't exactly ended on the best terms. The two of you had been broken up for about a month and a half; for the first two weeks, he would not stop texting and calling you, profusely apologizing, saying things like, ‘I'll go to therapy.’ ‘give me another chance.’ ‘I'll be better.’

It got so annoying that you had to block him; obviously, that wouldn't stop him. The thing was, Rafe was fucking crazy; he would always find a way to get to you, and if he didn't, he simply didn't want to.

“He's going to be there.” You said with a sign, “I'm just going to get fucked up, ignore him, and hopefully get some dick tonight.”

“That's the spirit!” Violet said as you tilted your head back, and she poured the vodka down your throat.

“Are you kidding me?” Your boyfriend asked you in a harsh tone as he stalked toward you.

“What?” you respond as you tried to take a wobbly few steps back.

His eyes narrowed at you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, aside from the clown makeup,” Rafe said, referring to your red lipstick.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don't like that dress?” Rafe interrogated as he roughly grabbed your waist.

“How many fucking times, y/n?” the blonde shook your body roughly. “For you to get it through your thick fucking skull?”

You were silent, frozen almost; whenever Rafe got violent, you didn't know how to react. You didn't fight; you didn't try to run; you stood wide-eyed in shock because if you did respond the wrong way, you knew it would make things 10x worse than they already were.

“Huh?” He asked you, shaking your body roughly again, waiting for you to respond.

“I- I don't know.” You mumbled weakly.

“You don't know,” he mocked with a dry humorless laugh.

“Go and change. Red looks trashy on you.” He stated before letting go of you with a harsh push into the wall.

All your friends knew that Rafe was bad, but they certainly didn't know how bad he was. You were so good at hiding it, concealer, color corrector, foundation, you name it; if it could cover a bruise, you had it. Every story you told them about your fights with Rafe were very watered down, and because of that, no one knew how truly scared you were to run into Rafe at this party. Not in an ‘Oh, no, my ex!’ way more in a ‘he might kill me way.’ But with every shot you took, you felt your fear start to fade slowly, and when you arrived at the party five shots in, in your little red party dress, you felt way more confident than you should have.

Your arm linked with Violet’s as your friend Nora lost the two of you to find her boyfriend. You and Violet stumbled through the house, passing through groups of people, trying your best to find the drink table.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Violet approved, looking you up and down. “Red is your color.”

“Thank you!” you smiled, taking the compliment to heart; she didn't know just how much that meant to you; you hadn't worn red since Rafe had told you it was ‘trashy’ on you.

“Fuck, is the Britney Smith?” Violet giggled, pointing at the short blonde girl.

“Isnt she pregnant?” you wondered as your eyes fell on the drink table.

“Oh my god, look who's right next to the drinks,” Violet says before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Is that Alex?” you replied, squinting your eyes to get a better look.

Violet nodded in response, eyes wide with excitement.

“Go talk to him!” you smiled at her. “I'll sit right over there,” you said, pointing at the elegant velvet couch.

As you sat on the couch, you couldn't stop thinking about Rafe. Your anxiety slowly started to rise, and you regretted every choice you made up to this point. First of all, you and Rafe had ended on horrible terms; second of all, you came to a party that you knew he would most likely be at, and now you are all alone and a little more drunk than you'd like to be.

You couldn't stop thinking back to that day, your breaking point, the last fight you had with Rafe before you ended things for good.

“Why are you following John B on Instagram?” Your boyfriend asked you as he looked up from his phone.

The question confused you a bit; you honestly didn't even know you were following him in the first place.

“I don't know?” you replied with a shrug. “Probably was an accident; maybe Sarah tagged him in something or-”

“Was it an accident when you smiled at him the other day at the wreck?” he cut you off.

Was he serious right now? John B had waved at you, and you simply smiled in return. You were just being nice; it was nothing more than that.

“Rafe, I-” You were going into very dangerous territory, and you knew that, even though Rafe was physically attractive, he was very insecure, which showed a lot in your relationship.

“If it's another bullshit excuse, I don't want to hear it,” he scolded as he stalked towards you.

He wasn't even giving you the chance to defend yourself, and frankly, it was pissing you off even more than his stupid questions.

“Rafe, I don't even know what you're talking about; I literally-” you plead with your boyfriend, taking a step back for every step he took forward.

“Of course you ‘Dont know,’ you never do.” Rafe hissed at you, moving closer and closer.

“That's what you do; you act all fucking innocent and then sneak around behind my back.” the blonde accused.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” He sneered, backing you against the wall.

That was the final straw; now he was accusing you of cheating from a simple smile and an Instagram follow. I mean, how delusional could he be?

“Are you fucking crazy?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed.

You could tell he was shocked at your response by the way his eyebrows arched upwards slightly, but you could also tell you pissed him off by the way his jaw ticked.

“What did you say to me?” He asked; he heard you loud and clear the first time; he just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it.

“Are you fucking crazy? I follow him on Instagram. So what? I can unfollow him if it's a problem.” you argued, shocked that this was even an issue.

Rafe's hand shot forward without warning, delivering a sharp slap to your face. Time momentarily slowed as the impact echoed through the room. As the sting of the slap registered, a deep sadness clouded your features. You hated to say it, but you were used to rafe hurting you.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Rafe asked you. Blue eyes are darker than their everyday shade.

“Huh?” He scoffed, laughing slightly.

“Calling me crazy…talking to me like I'm the one in the wrong?” your boyfriend shouted as he snatched a big chuck of your hair, gripping it tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Rafe, I-” you tried to defend yourself as tears clouded your vision.

“No, I'm talking now.” His voice boomed as he screamed in your ear.

Rafe slammed your head against the wall behind you, using your hair as leverage; at this point, your ears were ringing, your head was banging, and you couldn't speak from the pain alone. And Rafe just kept going on and on about how important trust is in a relationship, but how could you even listen when he was gripping your hair so tight? But obviously, Rafe didn't see this as punishment enough because he dragged you by the hair to his closet, and even as he rustled through his sock drawer, clearly looking for something, he didn't once let go of your hair.

“Rafe! Stop-” You were cut off by the feeling of ice gold metal pressed against your temple; you were completely frozen, not knowing what to do; there was no way your boyfriend was pressing a gun against your head over an Instagram follow.

“If you even look at john b again, your fucking dead.” Rafe threatened coldly.

Your heart was racing; Rafe was impulsive knowing him; you could breathe the wrong way, and he would pull the trigger. That didn't stop your breath from fasting and your tears from falling, though.

“You hear me?” he asked, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact.

You didn't say anything; you had been sobbing ever since you felt the metal against your head in the first place.

“Do you hear me?” He shook you, demanding an answer, “I will fucking kill you.”

“Yes!” you cried out, hoping and praying for him to put the gun down and let go of you.

And when you left his house that night, you had never returned. Rafe did have his good moments, but was he worth your life? You broke up with him over text the following day, and you hadn't seen him since.

Since today, as soon as you looked up from your lap, lost in thought, you made eye contact with Rafe. You felt sick when you saw him; you knew he would be here, but you weren't expecting to see him this soon.

You stood up, making your way through the separate groups of people; you needed to find somewhere you could be by yourself because right now, you felt like you might have a panic attack.

“Excuse me,” you repeated over and over as you drunkenly stumbled to the stairs. No one was upstairs, other than maybe a few people hooking up, but other than that, it was pretty empty. You looked for a room, apologizing when you opened the door to see Nora and Topper making out. You stumbled through the halls until you found an empty room, sighing in relief as you closed the door behind you.

Your relief was short-lived because you didn't realize that Rafe was following behind you the entire time, and when he entered the room, you instantly regretted isolating yourself from the rest of the party and your friends.

“No.” you panicked, anxiety rising deep within your stomach.

He was intentionally standing in front of the door. There was no way out.

“Hey, Listen, y/n-,” Rafe said calmly, trying to calm you down.

“No! Get away from me!” you interrupted words slurring, not wanting to hear a thing from him.

You had no desire to speak to Rafe, not after all he had put you through in your relationship, not after you had been in therapy for the past month to heal the pain he had caused you. He wasn't just a regular ex, Rafe was fucking crazy, and you both knew it; you knew he was waiting to see you in person again, probably planning it, planning out exactly how he was going to get you back and what he was going to do if you declined his offer.

“Can you just listen to me!?” he snapped at you, slightly losing his calm demeanor. “I just want to talk-” He said through his teeth, walking over to you and away from the door.

“Well, I don't want to talk!” you barely even knew what you were saying; your head was spinning, and you regretted every shot you had taken earlier.

“So that's how it's gonna be, huh?” Rafe mumbled to himself more than you, fist clenching as he spoke.

As he got closer and closer, the room seemed easier and easier to escape; you knew you couldn't scream for help because of the loud music banging throughout the house; no one would hear you, and you knew you couldn't put up the best fight because you were drunk and Rafe’s also way stronger than you, he had proved this time and time again.

So you took the opportunity to run for the door while you still could. But two steps in, Rafe had already caught you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his stiff chest.

“I didn't want to make this complicated.” he hissed into your ear. “But come on, y/n, it's almost like you want me to hurt you.”

You thrashed your body, wiggling side to side, trying to escape his grip.

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you continued to attempt to free yourself.

“Yes! I'm crazy,” Your ex admitted as his grip around you tightened, and his nostrils flared. “I'm crazy for you.” he dug his nails into your side.

“Get off of me!” you cried out, voice raw with emotion.

“You come to my best friend's party wearing the fucking dress I hate! Knowing I'm going to be here!” he criticized, pushing your body towards the bed. “It's almost like you want me to take it off.”

“Rafe, stop, I-” you were cut off by Rafe throwing you on the bed and wrapping his hands around your throat as he hovered over you.

“Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You fucking left me!” His grip got tighter the more he spoke. “Not even a call, but a fucking text.” he scolded. “Do I really mean that little to you?”

You didn't end things the way you did because you didn't care about Rafe; you cared about Rafe so much, more than you ever wanted to, and that hurt; throughout everything he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, you still cared. You broke up with Rafe over text because you were terrified; he had threatened to kill you over an Instagram follow; you couldn't imagine what he would have done if you dared to break up with him in person.

But you couldn't say any of that because he was choking you so hard that you couldn't breathe, let alone speak; all you could do was hit his hands repeatedly, hoping he would let go.

“You didn't care about my feelings. Why should I care about yours?” He asked you, looking deeply into your bloodshot, teary eyes with his blue angry ones.

Your mind was racing; Rafe was actually going to kill you. You saw this day coming many times throughout your relationship, but you didn't expect it to happen when you guys were finished. You had shared your body, your mind, everything with him, and you had been happy it was over; you finally were starting to feel like yourself again. But now he was going to take that all away from you.

Rafe finally let go when he started to see your eyes roll back as you started to lose consciousness.

You gasped for air in between coughs as you held your throat, desperate to soothe it from the pain he caused with his harsh grip. You had accepted death. You knew exactly who you were dealing with, and the thought of him killing you over a breakup wasn't too far-fetched.

“You have a lot of making-up to do after the stunt you pulled last month,” Rafe sighed as if he was inconvenienced by what he was doing to you.

The stunt you pulled? Your break up was serious, and for a good reason; he was lucky you hadn't called the police; if anyone had pulled a ‘stunt,’ it was him. He had pulled a series of stunts throughout your whole relationship. He was pulling one now.

Before you knew it, Rafe was tugging at your dress, attempting to pull it off you. If there was one thing you weren't doing, it was going down without a fight. You tried your best to kick him and scratch him, everything, but you were drunk, had just been choked, and Rafe was much stronger than you, so he pinned your wrist above your head with one hand and pulled the bottom of your dress up with the other.

“Remember this, y/n,” He said as he positioned himself up against your cunt. “Remember this feeling the next time you think about trying to leave.” He taunted before pushing into you roughly.

As he thrusted into you repeatedly at a rough and harsh pace, you sobbed. You thought Rafe was behind you; you told yourself you would never let a man hurt you the way he did again. You were so happy when he was gone.

“Fuck, take this off,” Rafe moaned as he pulled your dress over your head.

With every hash thrust, your cries got louder. Rafe didn't care about your pleasure or even his; he wanted to hurt you; he wanted to see your tear-stained face. This was your punishment, and he was succeeding. The only thing you felt between your legs was severe pain.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” you heard everyone downstairs scream in unison.

“Happy New Year,” Rafe smirked as he pulled you in for a rough, sloppy kiss.

Rafe was fucking crazy.

[doumadono]

ANNOUNCEMENT

This is a turning point for me. I've been silent for too long, but I can't stay quiet anymore.

I'm going through writer's burnout, and it has hit me hard. I've been writing on Tumblr and Ao3 for nearly eight years now (with about 1.5 years on my private blog, doumadono). Over that time, I've written more than 400 stories across various fandoms, created the Sinful Sunday event and a series that many people like, helped many with numerous emergency requests — so many that one masterlist wasn't enough to cover them all.

But all of this has brought me to a place where writing no longer feels like a joy, but rather a duty. In my effort to make everyone happy, I lost myself and took on too much, accepting even the most twisted and difficult requests. It made me anxious and unwell whenever I thought about writing. This is why I haven't been posting much these past few weeks. I missed the breaking point and let myself reach a place where I was seriously considering quitting writing altogether and closing both my Tumblr and Ao3 accounts.

There's something else I need to address. I feel completely detached from Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer. I no longer feel comfortable writing for those fandoms. From now on, I'll be focusing mostly on My Hero Academia. Even though the manga recently ended, both the manga and the anime hold a special place in my heart. I’ve fallen in love with the story and its amazing characters. This is what feels right to me at this moment. That doesn't mean I'll never write for Demon Slayer or other fandoms again, but not now, not at this time. Maybe in the future — who knows?

Some of you might know that I've been dealing with a flood of hateful anonymous messages. Even though I’ve grown stronger and no longer consider them relevant, it still hurts to read such nasty words. This is another factor why I need to take a break.

So, what's going to change?

Sinful Sunday will no longer cover requests, and the event won't be as regular as it used to be. From now on, I'll post some sinful pieces specifically written for this event whenever I feel it's right. I'll write only for the characters I feel attached too.

Emergency requests will be limited to two slots and will no longer have a 48-hour window to be fulfilled. Once both slots are taken, emergency requests will be closed until I manage to clear the current asks in my inbox.

As of today, my ask box has been completely cleared. I won't be replying to any past asks, regardless of their origin or topic.

Commissions will remain open, as nearly all the requests have been fulfilled.

Regarding the following projects:

The Kvitravn series will be completed this year, but I can't provide a specific date just yet as I'm still working hard to bring everything together.

There's also a new series on the horizon featuring Dabi in the lead role, with a psychiatrist!Reader as the other main character.

As for Kinktober, I made a hard decision it will not be held as an event on my blog this year at all.

As of now, I want to focus on my own little My Hero Academia based AU that I created with my best friend @crystalwolfblog , and this is something that brings me a lot of comfort nowadays, and it's what I want to focus on. I’ll likely create another blog to post everything related to this AU, to keep things organized (the blog will be linked to my pinned post). This little AU was and is my safe haven for the past year and half, and since it contains all of my favourite characters, I want to focus on it fully.

The time for purification has come. I need to rediscover my purpose and find joy in writing again. To those who understand and have stuck with me since the ThePaperPanda days — you’re amazing and adorable, and I can never express how much I appreciate you, guys 💞

I want to share one last thought. This isn’t a statement, but rather a plea to readers: please respect writers, no matter the content they choose to explore. Writing is not as easy as it may seem; it requires a significant amount of time and effort, often taking up our personal time to craft a story. Don't send anon hate. Spread love instead! The least you can do to show your appreciation is to leave a comment, even if it’s just a word or two. For you, it’s a small gesture that takes less than a minute, but for the writer on the other side, it may be a much-needed sign that their work is meaningful. So if you enjoy an author’s work, don’t hesitate to leave a comment. It truly makes us writers feel like we’re on cloud nine.

Love you all, Marcianna

[tsukimefuku]

The man who played with fire

After some drinks by yourself and getting frustrated with someone, you stupidly knock on Higuruma's door to test a theory.

To vibe: Misery - Maroon 5

Tags: +18 (!!!), WITH PLOT (there is always a plot), Jujutsu Kaisen, SMUT, f!reader, Higuruma x reader, some alcohol consumption,  he's so in love, she's so clueless, reader is being kind of an asshole, oral sex, cunt-locking, penetration, light f!top x m!bottom dynamic, involves some love-triangle classic shenanigans.

WC: 3.4K

Hey, this is actually my first smut piece! Hope you guys enjoy my filth. This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). This is preceded specially by "Kindness and Sunflowers", link here. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

Fair warning: I like writing characters being humanely assholes and clueless idiots. Be warned. 

"I can't believe this," you muttered to yourself. You were drinking alone at the bar, and the darkness served to hide your blushed-by-fury face. After what you called The Event, Nanami asked to talk, only to end up lecturing you about the shortcomings of a jujutsu sorcerer's life. As if you didn't know, given all the losses you had experienced over the years, precisely due to Tengen's established Jujutsu Society. "He can't be serious, lecturing me about this shit." Still talking to yourself, like a crazy person, you tried to let your anger go down with five cold pints of beer. It was definitely not working.

Your phone rang, and Nanami's name lit up on your screen, much to your annoyance. You immediately refused the call and flipped the phone down on the table, feeling all your rage bubbling up from the darkest depths of hell. You needed a release, any kind of release — an exorcism, most likely.

Or, you could try something else.

Peering around the bar, you started looking for someone that you could consider even remotely interesting — but no one, nothing, nada. Given this was a Tuesday night, there were only you and some monotonous people scattered around the murky lighting, encompassed by the noise of a few clicking glasses. 

That was when your phone started to rumble to the sound of some text messages, and you grabbed it ready to pitch the phone across the vicinity, believing it was Nanami again. But, much to your surprise, it was actually Higuruma texting you. You were so angry that you had completely forgotten to talk to him today.

He was basically asking how you were, given that you hadn't texted back since yesterday, and you were both chatting on a daily basis for weeks by this point.

That was when you had a greatly horrible (or horribly great?) idea. After all, how could a decision made under the influence, at night, while angry at someone you knew you had feelings for, be bad? This is fine.

"Are you busy right now?" You sent him, feeling the beer breeze warmly through your nostrils every time you exhaled. You have a crush on him, but that's it, this is fine. And oh, you did. Ever since you dropped him off in his apartment the night he was freed from Jujutsu High's headquarters, you knew that there was definitely something stirring up — at least from your end. Higuruma was drunk, he didn't make a move, and could just have been kind of clingy, to be honest, so you decided to let it go for the time being. Every time you got a little too excited to meet or talk to him recently, you reminded yourself very sternly you weren't a schoolgirl.

But you wouldn't let it go today, because today, you really wanted to know.

"Nothing, really. I just got home." Higuruma promptly answered.

"Can I come over?" You texted back, and locked your screen right after, instantly anxious and eager at the same time. What the fuck is wrong with me? What am I thinking? What am I doing? This can't be a good ide-

"Of course, I'd be delighted." He replied. "And then you could actually see the sunflower is doing very well, in spite of me."

You left the money on the counter and ran off, shushing your thoughts out loud.

***

This was a terrible idea, but I think I can just hang out for an hour, make small talk and then leave, you started to negotiate mentally with yourself right after the three knocks on the door gave some sanity back to your brain. 

However, after Higuruma opened the door and cocked his head to lean it against the door frame, you knew you were completely doomed. He had the top of his white shirt unbuttoned, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up enough for you to see his beautifully defined forearms. His hair had the perfect messy-I-just-got-home look to it, and you instantly wanted to drive your hands through his pitch black locks. 

Oh shit, you thought to yourself, feeling something stir up in your body — and it surely wasn't anger.

It must have been a moment, because he started to look a little puzzled. "Hey, come in." Higuruma said, as if he was repeating himself. Did you not hear him the first time he invited you in? 

"Of course. Thank you." You replied, looking down and hushing yourself inside his apartment. You could feel your face burning, and imagined how much of an idiot you were being right now for ever believing this could go anything but wrong.

"Are you okay? You seem out of sorts." He pointed out, closing the door behind him. "Can I get you anything? I got some beer from the convenience store, and there might be water somewhere in the kitchen."

"I'm fine, I just ran here to get some cardio." You clumsily replied, sitting on the couch. "I came from the bar, actually. Already drank some beers. No need."

Higuruma huffed out a soft chuckle, still a little confused, but now intent on prying. "You're not helping your case. You mean to say that you, a jujutsu sorcerer that exercises heavily, decided to get some cardio done while walking under the influence, from a bar, at night, to meet me?"

"Yes. That's what I meant. Quit prying." You responded, not knowing what the hell else you could say. Tell him that you came rushing just so you wouldn't have the time for second guessing on having s- no, you wouldn't do that.

"Hm." He hummed to himself, grabbing a can and sitting beside you, bouncing the sofa slightly. "I mean, I'm always happy to have you come over, but the only time you came here was to bring me drunk from a bender. And to get me flowers."

"Get you a sunflower, because yours had died." You corrected.

"Precisely, a sunflower." Higuruma replied, taking a sip from his beer. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just wanted to see you." You said, earnestly. And deep down, it was true, if only half of it.

Higuruma immediately seemed content, even if he only had a small smile to show for it on his face. "Oh."

You were both silent for a moment.

"I never got to repay you for your kindness that day." He said, out of the blue, taking you by surprise.

"It was nothing." You said, shrugging. "I just got you home and gave you a flower."

"Oh, if I remember correctly…" He began.

"Do you remember anything?" You asked, mockingly.

He looked at you, slightly grinning, and continued. "You had to blow up my lock to bust us in. In some places, that would be considered a felony."

"You're saying I could get arrested for busting into a home while I'm with the man that lives there?"

"You also used explosives and damaged the door, let's not forget that." Higuruma said in a mix of playful and matter-of-factly.

"I couldn't ask, because you were completely wasted! Just getting your address was a pain in the ass."

He chuckled. "Was it?"

"Yes, it was." You replied, more relaxed, thanks to coming back to your old banter. This came for the both of you so naturally that you barely realized Higuruma had rested his arm on the sofa right behind you, leaning closer. "Higuruma, why did you drink so much that night?"

That question surprised him, as you could deduct from his eyes widening lightly. He put his beer can on the coffee table and ran his fingers through his hair, inhaling deeply. "I don't know. I guess-" he stuttered for a moment. "I guess I was just nervous to be out again, finally and properly going for a drink with..." his last word lingered on the air, as he unconsciously looked at your eyes, and then your lips, "with you all."

"Do you remember what you said when we got here?" You asked, shamelessly staring at his lips too.

"I believe I said, 'you are too kind'." Higuruma leaned over even further, and you felt his entire body go rigid for a second as you drifted closer to him, heat crawling all over your skin, putting your forehead to his. After some seconds, he rested the palm of his hand over your knee, and from how needy you felt for that man at that particular moment, even such a small thing was enough to make you trip over to the other side.

You immediately crushed your lips to his, putting your hands behind his head. You kissed him eagerly, letting out an extremely faint moan as you drove your fingers over his hair — he tasted like beer, his worn off cologne from the day was completely intoxicating, and you found yourself nearly lunging at the man like a starved animal. Realizing what just happened, you pulled back, starting to apologize, eyes wide and face completely flustered. "Higuruma, I'm so sor-"

Your apologies were cut short with his own lips now clashing into yours in a passionate kiss, as he pushed you under his weight to lay on the couch, his fingers interlocking in your hair strands from the back of your head. His hips effortlessly slid in between your legs as your hands made their way to brush his shoulders, and you let out another moan against his lips, this time much louder, thanks to the dry pressure of his now bulging pants against your clothed core. Higuruma groaned satisfied in response, tracing the outline of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. Your mind was becoming hazy, and he parted from your lips for a moment to gaze at your face. His eyes were locked on you, studying every feature and investigating for any sign of discomfort or second thoughts.

You caught up on that and made your way inside his slightly open mouth with your own tongue, intertwining it with his in between gasps and huffs. Now you separated just enough to breathlessly say, "Bed. Now."

You gasped against his mouth, before holding yourself throwing your arms behind his neck and locking your legs on his waist, grinding on him. He moaned loudly at this stimulation, before smiling sheepishly and putting both of his hands on the back of your thighs for support, knowing full well you meant for him to carry the both of you into the bedroom.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied, propping the both up and then lifting from the couch. Higuruma pressed open-mouthed kisses all around the nape of your neck, as he walked towards a dark room, parting his hands from you just to switch the light on. "I want to see you," he said, breathing heavily against your skin, as he threw you on the bed, climbing on top, one hand to each side of your head as he stared at you with a lustful look in his eyes. You instantly pulled his loosened tie to kiss him again, and he lost balance, basically falling with his body over yours. You whimpered at the feeling of having his now full-blown clothed erection grinding against your core, and involuntarily opened your legs to accommodate his hips over yours.

Higuruma started to take off his tie and shirt, and you followed suit, removing your top and bra. He basked on the sight of you, and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His digits felt rough, and frictioned just the right amount against you, as he squeezed both of them, satisfied and reverent. His hands started traveling down your figure, contouring every curve, hill, and valley of your body, reaching the edge of your pants. "May I?" He asked, his face lightly blushed as he awaited your response. You nodded, and he promptly unzipped you, pulling your pants and panties down, the slight stimulation from the fabric sliding over your legs being enough to make you mewl with satisfaction. Every nerve in you was incandescent with absolute hunger for him.

You opened your legs, and he could see you were already completely wet from arousal. Letting out an audible satisfied moan, Higuruma began tracing your belly with his mouth, planting long kisses as he went down, leaving a trail of heat wherever his lips touched. As he got near your core, he kissed one last time one of your thighs, and sniffed on your folds. You smelled sinfully sweet, and he made no effort to hold back his eyes fluttering shut with pure bliss. "Could I, please?"

This was his prayer, the bed was his altar and he was determined to worship you.

Without a word, you simply grabbed the top of his hair and drove his mouth in between your legs, whimpering and mewling as his tongue started to rub against your clit. His chin would grind forward on your entrance whenever he changed the angle, and you involuntarily pushed yourself down when that happened. He noticed it, and slid his tongue inside you, eliciting a loud moan in response, with your walls clenching around it. He groaned back in appreciation, and his husky, low voice reverberated throughout your entire being. You arched your back, beginning to feel that familiar heat and fire pooling on your lower stomach.

"H-Higuruma... I-" You sighed, in between mewls and moans.

He immediately stopped and brought his face up to look at you. You let out a complaint sound, glaring at him to ask why he stopped.

"My dear, I'm literally with my face in between your legs, eating you out." He said, unfazed by your annoyance. "We're way past last names. Call me Hiromi."

Incredulous, you let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff, having the top inside of you wiggling its way out to the surface. You grabbed his hair strongly, and he cinched his eyebrows, cock twitching inside his pants, as the corner of his lips formed an open-mouthed smile. His eyes were softly resting on you, and he wouldn't mind if your naked, flushed body was the last thing he saw before he died.

"Shut up." You said, grinding your pussy against his mouth, and locking his head to your core with your legs tightly holding around him. Higuruma proceeded more eager than before, lapping at your clit relentlessly with his tongue, alternating with sucks that were having you seeing stars. He was absolutely pussy drunk with the heavenly taste of you and had, at this moment, relinquished any control, as he let you face fuck him chasing your release.

The heat came back again, and you closed your eyes, sinking the back of your head on a pillow. Waves were starting to form, and your orgasm hit you like the crashing water against the shore. You began to tremble and vibrate, coming hard in his mouth, and Higuruma feverishly drank you up, completely hypnotized with how amazing you tasted and felt, falling apart under his ministrations. 

Letting you finish riding your high, licking gently on your overstimulated core, he waited until you were barely moving before removing his own pants and climbing his way back on top of you. As he got close enough to your face, you looked at him, completely flustered and debauched, resting the palm of your hand on his cheek. "Higuruma, I want you inside of me." His tongue, albeit magnificent, just wasn't enough, and you could feel the same anticipation and neediness coiling in your stomach again, as the tip of his cock rested on your entrance.

He looked at you and grunted, displeased. "Hiromi." Higuruma reached to the bedside table and pulled a condom. The movement had him rubbing his throbbing length, already leaking with pre-cum, right against you, forcing him to let out a strained groan.

You gasped at the sensation and chuckled at his annoyance right after, suddenly locking his hips in between your legs, rolling you both so that you would be on top of him. "We'll see, if you ask nicely." You replied, locking him in between your arms, hovering. Higuruma's eyes instantly softened, and his cheeks took a pinkish-red tint. "You're bossy." He said, turning his head towards your wrist and planting a chaste kiss on it, lingering with his lips for a moment on your skin. "I like it."

You smiled, more pleased than you'd like to admit it, because the both of you fit so well it was astonishing. You never thought it would be happening like this, and for a moment, it felt so right you wished you could be here forever. But nothing that good ever lasts long enough.

Grabbing the condom from him with one hand, you motioned the other to grab his neglected cock. As your fingers grasped around his length, Higuruma let out a satisfied and urgent moan, slowly arching himself under your touch. The sight of him completely pliable to your will had you fluttering, as you began to rub your hands up and down, pumping his girth to pleasure him. Higuruma plastered his palms over the plush of your thighs, and groaned your last name, holding out on some kind of desperation. 

"'Way past last names', huh?" You scoffed, playfully, starting to slide the condom over his cock before he could hit you with any witty comeback. After, you positioned yourself above him, holding his length against your entrance, and started to slowly descend over it, feeling it thrust in you to the brim, stretching your walls as he bottomed out. You both let out a gasp, now connected, and you waited a moment to adapt and take all of him in.

"Come here." You said, pulling on his shoulder for him to sit up, so that you could feel and touch every inch of him. He obliged, and sat up, immediately driving his mouth to kiss your neck insistently, brushing the tip of his tongue on the edge of your jaw. Higuruma began to rock his hips, and you did the same, each in the opposite direction, so that his cock would slide in and out of your pussy easily.

You moaned against his scalp, and he held his hands to the small of your waist, leaning you backwards to suck on your breasts. The moment his mouth latched onto one breast, he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, eliciting loud moans and mewls from you. You had your head dangling back, as he began to thrust into you quicker and harder. He slid the hand previously on your waist to the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a kiss, taunting your mouth with his tongue. You opened it, and both your tongues intertwined, as he, now, chased his own release, panting and groaning into your lips. You weren't so far off, feeling the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen, yearning for release.

"Higu-"

"Hiromi, please. P-please... Please..." He implored and begged, kissing desperately your jawline. You lowered your gaze and met his eyes softer and more tender than you had ever seen, so urgently pleading for you to let him in, give him this inch of intimacy, and that was the moment you caved. You pressed your forehead against his, and started to cry out his name. "Hiromi... H-Hiromi..."

Letting out moans and groans in between the squelching from your juices, he pulled you impossibly close, eyes piercing and locked onto yours. This was the moment you felt more naked, bare and vulnerable the entire night, and the coil that had formed in your belly snapped, sending waves of pure pleasure from the tip of your head to your toes. Feeling your gummy walls clenching all around him, Higuruma also hit his orgasm intensely, thrusting into you fervently to ride off his high. He stopped slowly, ready to crumble underneath you at any moment.

"Hiromi-" You said, brushing your lips against his cheek, then under his ear. "Hiromi, Hiromi, Hi-ro-mi. Happy? Just for tonight, though."

Higuruma chuckled soulfully, realizing how much he absolutely loved the sound of his name on your tongue, purred through your whispered voice, reverberating on his flushed, sensitive skin. It made his body quiver and tremble with pure satisfaction. 

It was right there, at that moment, with his heart fluttering while you leaned back to gaze at him, stroking his hair strands between your fingers with a gentle smile, that he realized just how fucked he actually was.

Sighing softly and smiling back, Higuruma pushed his lips against yours. He knew that by playing with fire, he was bound to get burned, eventually — and burned he was.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader

a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.

Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety

masterlist link / previous chapters

summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.

word count - 4629

...

Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.

The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.

She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.

With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.

"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.

At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.

"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."

Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”

As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."

"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.

Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.

Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"

With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.

As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.

From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.

"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.

Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.

"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.

But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."

Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.

…

Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.

Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.

Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."

Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."

Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.

Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.

As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.

But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.

"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.

Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."

Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.

…

As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"

Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."

Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"

Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."

Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"

Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."

Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.

But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.

Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.

Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.

"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."

Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.

She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.

"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"

Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"

Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"

Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."

Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."

Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."

But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."

Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."

Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.

Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.

they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"

…

Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.

The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.

The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.

Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.

And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.

With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.

y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.

She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.

And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.

With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.

Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?

She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.

The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.

But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.

The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.

She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.

Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.  

in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.

She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.

…

Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.

He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.

Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.

He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.

The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.

He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.

Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.

With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.

The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.

Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.

Positive. Y/N was pregnant.

Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.

…

Tag List <3

@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part IV

Happy Halloween everyone!! I'm so happy I get to share this all with you today, I was really hoping to get out an update for Halloween 😂😂 I hope you all enjoy, I love reading everyone's comments, thank you so much!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: None, a fluffy evening with III

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, you're amazing and I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Part III - Part V

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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You stuck close to II's side as you made your way up to the front of the store. Who you assumed was IV peeked out behind III's shoulder, the taller man ushering him to the front. "He's very excited to meet you, he's just a bit nervous." II chuckles. "He has a tendency to get a bit worked up but I promise he's very nice." You step closer to him, a shy smile on your face. He bends down slightly, bringing his face a lot closer to yours as you lock eyes. His gaze was a lot softer than the others but still gave you that same warm feeling in your chest as he studied you.

"It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, a cheerful tone in his voice. "You guys were right, she is really pretty." What followed IV's statement was a mix of throats being cleared, eyes being averted, and Vessel quickly trying to change the subject.

"I see the two of you got a lot done already, what else do you need help with?" You giggle at their flustered states.

"It's nice to meet you too, IV. Everything just needs to be put away, III's been a very big help." He straightens up proudly at your compliment. You sat on the counter, the four of them rotating to keep you company while the others worked.

"I told you, you just take it easy tonight. We'll handle it." Vessel chuckles as you complain for what must have been the millionth time about how you should be helping.

"Well if you all insist on doing this at least let me cook you dinner." You counter.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." He smirks slightly before going to help the others. Noticing you were alone prompted IV to jog over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He asks sweetly. You move over, patting the spot next to you. He hops up with ease, even sitting down he still towered over you. "Your store's very organized." He comments, looking out to the other three as they worked, his heels bumping off the counter as he swung his feet slightly.

"Thank you, I try to run a neat ship." You giggle.

"I'm sorry if calling you pretty earlier made you uncomfortable." He shoots you an apologetic and almost bashful expression.

"It's okay." You smile, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'm happy you finally came by, now I've officially met the whole crew." You joke causing IV to laugh. The four of them finished up quickly, before you knew it you found yourself smiling at the whirlwind of energy that filled your apartment.

"You need any help?" III asks as he leans against the counter.

"You've done more than enough, just relax." The two of you exchange a soft smile. "Also, thank you for fixing me up earlier." You return your focus to what you were cooking, hoping III wouldn't notice your slightly flustered appearance.

"No problem. How's the hand?" He asks as he holds out his own, wanting to examine it himself.

"Barely even feel it." Your breath freezes in your lungs as his fingers ghost over your skin. You glance up at him through your lashes. His blue eyes focused intently on the bandage he was readjusting. His gaze slowly trails up your arm to your face, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest.

"You have something just," he points to the spot on his own face. You attempt to wipe it away a couple times before he chuckles. "Would it be alright if I got it?" You nod. III's warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb slowly dragged across your skin. "There… beautiful." You couldn't help but blush, your expression causing III to breathe out a laugh as his eyes crinkle in a smile. You jumped slightly as the timer on the stove went off. III reluctantly pulled his hand away, you trailed after his touch, already missing the warmth he provided. "I'll let them know the food's done." He says before disappearing into the other room. It was nice having company for once. Instead of you having dinner alone, your dining room was filled with excited conversations and loud laughter. As you cleaned up that night you almost didn't want them to leave.

"Thank you for having all of us for dinner, that was very sweet of you." Vessel says kindly.

"It's the least I could do after all the work you guys did today." You smile.

"We're happy to help. You've been nothing but kind since I met you. If there's anyone we'd want to help, it would be you." 

"This apartment hasn't been this lively in a long time," you muse with a hum. "It was a really nice change." 

"Well… I have a feeling that this," he vaguely motions to your apartment. "Is going to be happening a lot more often." He laughs as he starts to head out of the kitchen. 

"Vessel?" He pauses. "Did you ever figure out why you think we were fated to meet each other?"

He shakes his head with a small smirk, "no, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea." You trailed behind him as he re-enters your living room, the hushed whispers of the other three coming to a halt immediately. Vessel eyes them all with a knowing expression. "Alright, we should probably get out of your way. (Y/N), I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head slightly as he heads for the door. II and IV both say their goodbyes and follow him outside, leaving you alone with III.

"I'll be right down." He calls after them. III towered over you in the doorway, looking down at you with intoxicatingly beautiful blue eyes. He leans down to bring him almost face level with you, his forearm resting against the wall as he leaned in close. "Can I take you somewhere tomorrow night? Just you and me?" Despite how confident he was coming off you could hear the slight nervous tremor in his voice.

"What did you have in mind?" Excitement radiates off of him at your response.

"There's a drive-in I saw the other night, it looks like they have some sort of monster movie marathon tomorrow night… I think we'd have fun." You hear II call for him from outside.

“I’d love to go.” His hand slips into yours, tugging you the slightest bit closer. His thumb ran over your knuckles as his gaze trapped you in place.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiles before suddenly pulling away. “Quit your yelling, I’m coming!” He calls down the stairs to an annoyed II. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face as you watched them drive away. You grew nervous as the end of your shift ticked closer. Vessel and III slipped into the store right before closing as usual, III giving you a casual wink but not saying a single word. As they both stood at the counter his eyes kept meeting yours, a flustered smile finding its way to your face. The bell rings as Vessel exits the store, III quickly leaning in to whisper something to you. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He says with a smile before hurrying out after Vessel. You wrapped your jacket tightly around you as you stood outside in the brisk night air. His truck rumbled up in front of you, he immediately jumped out to greet you.

“Hey III.” He sweeps you into a tight hug.

“You ready?” He asks excitedly. You nod in response, he takes your hand as he opens the passenger door of the truck for you, helping you inside. The worn leather seat shook in time with the truck's engine, the cab lit up in a soft yellow glow from the radio. III slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flashing to you as a soft smile lit up his features. He noticed you rubbing your arms, still looking perfectly content despite the weather.

“I brought a blanket in case you get cold, the heat in the truck doesn’t work that well, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckles, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the statement. He fiddled with the temperature in the truck for a moment, nothing really changing before he gave up. He groans in annoyance, pausing to think of a solution. He looks over at you, eyes trailing over your much smaller form. He holds one side of his jacket open, beckoning you closer with his free hand. You slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warmth. "There, how's that?"

"This is fine." You stutter out, trying your best to hide your flustered state. You found yourself relaxing into him, his thumb rubbing your shoulder languidly, both of your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you wound through the collage of vibrantly colored leaves. "Thank you for asking me to come with you." You suddenly pipe up. 

"Thank you for coming with me." He responds softly. "I was honestly a bit worried to ask you."

"What? Why?" You ask in a tone of disbelief, a small laugh lacing its way into your words as you slowly start to relax.

"Some random man in a mask comes up and asks you to spend time alone with him-"

"Well you're not some random man in a mask, III." You cut him off, both of you sharing a laugh. You lean your head on his shoulder, "besides, I enjoy your company… it's just nice to have someone that I want to spend time with, I guess." You glance up at him with a coy smile.

"Well if it's any consolation, I think you're pretty great and I want to spend time with you too." You giggle as you feel him nudge your side. You pulled into the drive-in, the teenager in charge of admission was too interested in their cellphone to pay much mind to the man in the mask before them.

"You're all set, man." They wave the two of you through as they take the cash, not bothering to look up from the screen. You pulled in to find the lot nearly empty, a few cars sporadically parked as far away from each other as possible.

"Lucky us, we get a private showing." You say in a giddy tone.

"I'm sorry I can't go get you popcorn, Vessel already didn't want me coming to somewhere so public as it is." You were about to assure him that it was fine, if anything you could always run over to the concession stand to get the snacks, but III never gave you the chance. "Excuse me, doll." He leans over your lap to retrieve something from the floor, his face hovering centimeters from yours, you pressed yourself back into the seat. You weren't uncomfortable being this close to him, but the warmth from his body, the smell of his cologne, you were having trouble thinking. He grabs a backpack from the floor of the truck, setting it in his lap before pulling out various snacks you had witnessed him purchase earlier in the day from your store. You can't help but smile as he lines up each kind on the dashboard. "I wasn't sure what kind of candy you liked so I grabbed a few different ones."

"You're so sweet, thank you." Your eyes meet his, making you feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs.

"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time." He explains softly. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand in his. 

"How could I not? I'm here with you." The night was perfectly still around you. The faint crackling of the truck's old radio and the slight chill from its sputtering heater were lost to you at the moment. The only thing that mattered in your mind was III; how warm his hand felt wrapped around yours, how your heart fluttered in your chest as his attention dropped to your lips. His head dipped slightly, his warm breath pushing through the mask to fan over your skin, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the black fabric. You squeezed his hand, letting him know that, whatever was about to happen here, you welcomed it. He hooked a finger into his mask, beginning to pull it away from his face when the speakers suddenly blared to life, startling you apart. Your hand pulled away from his, folding then neatly in your lap as both of you stared straight ahead at the screen. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird-"

"You didn't." Both of you fell silent at your reassurance.

"Can I still hold you? It's nice having you close." He admits bashfully. You nod, leaning into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm sliding back around your shoulders. The two of you sat completely engrossed through every movie; holding his hand in yours as the intense music swelled, giggling at the cheesy yet adorable special effects of 1930's cinema, the evening culminating with you struggling to stay awake as you cuddled into III's chest on the ride home. You sat up and stretched with a groan as you pulled around the back of the store. III's gaze darted anywhere besides you as he fidgeted with his seatbelt. "I had a really nice night with you." He smiles.

"I did too." Your hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe, next time, I can plan something." His eyes finally meet yours.

"Next time?" You could hear the excitement laced in his tone. "Yeah, that sounds great." The two of you sat there for a little while longer, neither of you knowing what to say, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

"I should probably head in." You say reluctantly. "Goodnight, III."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He responds. As you go to get out he gives your hand one final squeeze, bringing your attention back to him. "Wait, can you… this is going to sound really strange, but can you close your eyes?" You nod, keeping your hand in his as you allow your eyes to slide shut. You heard the soft shuffling of fabric before a warm pair of lips pressed themselves to your cheek. The kiss was very brief, you barely had time to process what had happened before it was over. But, it still managed to leave you feeling so warm. A flustered giggle fell from your lips as you finally registered the kiss, squeezing III's hand. "You can open them." You turn to find him smiling under his mask, memorizing the adorable expression on your face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You let your eyes wander over his face one last time before getting out of the truck. You jogged up the stairs, fighting with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock the door. You wave down to him as he pulls away. You lean against the door with a sigh as it shuts behind you, absolutely giddy over the fact you could still feel III's lips lingering in your skin. Thinking of the night with him your mind wandered back to the time you had spent with II, the soft glances and hushed conversations that caused your heart to thrum with anticipation. How you currently found a spark between you and both of these men. Groaning, you card your hands through your hair as you shuffle deeper into your apartment. There was nothing you could do but wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @themultiverseofmars @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (I think that's everyone, if I missed you, you'd like to be added, or you're one of the few who's @'s didn't work {I can't figure out why that happened} please let me know!)

[hd-junglebook]

My Sunshine

Part 3

Warnings : kissing, pregnancy, sex (briefly), fighting, angry Jack! also not proofread so enjoy!

a:n Idk when I'll start on part 4 since I want to finish it's always been you, but I hope you guys like this one, cause I sure did. lmk what you think guys. pretty fluffy.

Masterlist Link

summary: The clock is ticking for how long she can keep a secret. Enjoy y/n and Jack indulging in each other in more way than one ;)

Word Count - 5538

...

15:23pm

Two months later…

She lay back on the exam table, the cool gel on her exposed belly sending a shiver down her spine. Heather sat beside her, holding her hand as the ultrasound technician moved the transducer over Y/N's stomach.

"There's your baby," the technician said with a smile, pointing to the screen. "Everything looks great. The heart rate is strong, and the baby is measuring right on track."

Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes as she stared at the grainy image of her child. She squeezed Heather's hand, a wave of emotion washing over her.

"Do you want to know the sex?" the technician asked, glancing between Y/N and Heather.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lower lip. She had been torn about whether or not to find out, but in the end, she had decided to wait. "No, I don't think so. I want it to be a surprise."

Heather's eyes widened, and she turned to Y/N with an incredulous look. "What? But how will we plan the baby shower? We need to know if we should buy pink or blue!"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We can do a gender-neutral theme, Heather. It's not a big deal."

Heather pouted, but then her face lit up with an idea. "Okay, how about this? You don't find out, but I do. That way, I can plan the shower and keep it a secret from you."

Y/N considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, that works. Just don't slip up and tell me, okay?"

Heather grinned, making a zipping motion over her lips. "My lips are sealed."

The technician smiled, handing Y/N a towel to wipe off the gel. "I'll just write it down and give it to your friend, then. Congratulations, by the way. You're going to be a great mom."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at the words. "Thank you. I can't wait to meet this little one."

As they walked out of the doctor's office, Heather looped her arm through Y/N's, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, when are you going to tell Jack about the baby? He's going to be so excited!"

Y/N's steps faltered, and she looked away, avoiding Heather's gaze. "I don't know. I'm just not ready yet."

Heather stopped walking, turning to face Y/N with a serious expression. "Y/N, you can't keep this a secret from him forever. In five months, you're going to have a baby, and he deserves to know."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. I just... I'm scared, Heather. What if he doesn't want this? What if he leaves me?"

Heather's expression softened, and she pulled Y/N into a hug. "Oh, honey. Jack loves you. He's not going to leave you, no matter what. And if he does, I'll kick his ass myself."

Y/N laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks, Heather. You're right. I need to tell him. I'll do it soon, I promise." Heather nodded in response, squeezing Y/N's hand.

…

18:03pm

Y/N marked another X on the calendar, her hand instinctively moving to her slightly rounded belly. At 19 weeks pregnant, her bump was still small, and she had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret from most people, including Jack.

As she settled onto the couch, Y/N groaned as another wave of cramping tightened her abdomen into knots. Curling further into herself, she pressed a hand to her aching stomach, wishing the heating pad would ease the pain faster.

The cramps had eased slightly, but a lingering discomfort gnawed at her. Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and she reached for it with a weary groan. Jack's name flashed across the screen, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Hey Jack..." she answered, trying to keep the discomfort out of her voice.

His warm chuckle immediately soothed some of the tension in her neck. "Hey sunshine, how's my girl doing?"

"Could be worse. Is everything okay?" Y/N drawled absentmindedly, shifting the heating pad to a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I'm sorry hun, I just called to see if you wanted to go out later?" Jack's voice crackled slightly through the phone. "Just you, me...and that beautiful face of yours."

Y/N felt her cheeks warming at his flirtatious words, but grimaced as another cramping pain twisted her abdomen. "I would love to go out with you, Jack, but..." Y/N grimaced, drawing a shaky breath. "I'm not feeling too well right now. I think I might be coming down with something."

A heavy pause hung between them until Jack's warm chuckle drifted through the phone. "Well, how about I come over instead? I'll bring all your favorite snacks." His voice took on a gentle, coaxing tone. "You can pick out one of your corny movies, leave a Jack-sized space on the couch, and we'll have a cozy night in."

Closing her eyes, Y/N pictured Jack's strong arms enveloping her, his solid warmth soothing her aching body. The thought made her burrow deeper into the couch cushions with a soft whine. "You'd really come over? But I'm such a mess right now, Jack. I don't want you to have to deal with..."

She trailed off as another stabbing cramp seized her abdomen. Distantly, she heard Jack's worried murmurs through the phone.

"Y/N? Sunshine, you still with me? That's it, I'm coming over right now and you can't stop me."

Blinking back the tears stinging her eyes, Y/N huffed out a shaky laugh. "Yes, dear."

She could practically hear the grin in Jack's voice. "There's my girl. Just sit tight, okay? I'll be there with enough junk food to reunite a boyband."

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at Jack's unwavering support. " The door'll be unlocked, so just come in when you get here. You're the best, you know that?"

"I do, but it's always nice to hear," Jack teased. "I'll see you soon, sunshine. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

Pushing herself up from the couch, Y/N made her way to the bathroom, one hand resting on her belly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused, taking in the slight roundness that was just beginning to show beneath her oversized t-shirt.

"We'll tell him soon, little one," she murmured, rubbing gentle circles over her stomach. "But for now, it's just you and me."

With a soft smile, Y/N turned away from the mirror and headed back to the living room to wait for Jack.

…

19:12pm

Y/N hummed along to the music playing softly as she cleaned up the dishes from her snack earlier. The warm, soapy water soothed her aching hands as she scrubbed the bowl. She was so focused on her task that she didn't hear the front door open and close behind her, or the soft footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered her eyes, startling her out of her reverie. "Guess who?" Jack's voice was a low rumble against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped her, and she felt herself melting against his solid chest with a relieved sigh.

"Come on, guess!" Jack urged, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

Y/N couldn't fight the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. She placed the bowl back in the sink and reached up to cover his hands with her own, enjoying the playful moment. "Hmm, I don't know..." she teased, pretending to ponder the question. "Could it be my grumpy landlord finally coming to fix that leaky faucet?"

Jack chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back where his chest was pressed. "You wound me, love. Here I am, armed with enough junk food to induce a coma, and you accuse me of being the landlord. I thought you'd be more excited to see me."

He slowly spun her around to face him, removing his hands from her eyes to reveal the adorable grin on his face. Her heart pounded loudly against her chest as she took in his appearance, from the tousled hair that she longed to run her fingers through to the warm, blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

He was wearing the soft, worn t-shirt that she loved, the one that always smelled like him, and she had to resist the urge to bury her face in his chest and inhale deeply.

"Hi," she breathed out shyly under his intense gaze.

Jack's smile softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Hi yourself." Jack's gaze dropped to her lips briefly before he leaned in, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against them.

Y/N's toes practically curled at the gentle caress. When he pulled back, she blinked up at him dazedly. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it," Jack shrugged with a crooked smile. He nodded towards the two bulging grocery bags on the counter.

"So, what kind of junk food extravaganza do you have planned for us tonight?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and playful despite the emotions swirling inside her.

Jack grinned, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a family-sized bag of chips. "Only the best for my girl. We've got chips, cookies, candy... everything we need for a proper movie night. And of course, I brought your favorite ice cream."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she felt a sudden craving for the rich, creamy treat. "My hero!" Y/N clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. "However will I repay you?" He laughed, pulling her into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

His eyes danced with mirth. "Well, for starters you can clear off some space on that couch..." He waggled his eyebrows comically. "I'll need somewhere to nestle in right next to you."

Laughing, Y/N swatted at his chest lightly. After clearing space on the couch, Y/N turned to see Jack carefully arranging an assortment of snacks on the coffee table.

"You really went overboard, didn't you?" She grinned, eyeing the smorgasbord of chips, cookies, candy, and her favorite ice cream pints.

Jack looked up with an incredulous expression. "Overboard? Sweetheart, this is the bare minimum for a proper couch date with snacks." He held up a pint with a flourish. "This double fudge brownie is a spiritual experience."

"You're ridiculous," Y/N laughed, grabbing the ice cream from his hand. "But I guess that's why I lo—" She caught herself abruptly, heat flooding her cheeks.

Jack's eyes danced with amusement, but he didn't comment on her near slip. Instead, he scooped her close, brushing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Why don't you pick the movie while I make us some snack plates?"

Nodding mutely, Y/N hugged the ice cream pint to her chest as Jack's warmth enveloped her for a moment before he released her. As she searched through the horror selection, she snuck glances at him piling snacks onto two big plates.

"You know," Jack's teasing voice made her look over. "If you burn a hole through those snacks just by staring, we'll have to start all over."

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. "Well maybe if someone didn't buy so many options, I wouldn't be starving just looking at them!"

Chuckling, Jack set the heaping plates on the coffee table and patted the couch cushion beside him. "C'mere, you brat. Let's get this movie started."

As Y/N cuddled into his side, surrounded by a cocoon of warmth and the tantalizing scent of buttery snacks, she couldn't quite believe how utterly content she felt. Jack's arm draped casually around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

Just before she hit play, she felt Jack's lips graze the top of her head tenderly. "Thanks for letting me take care of you tonight, sunshine." She smiled at him, grinning mischievously as y/n clicked play on the remote, the opening title for "The Autopsy of Jane Doe" flashing across the TV screen.

Jack's eyes went comically wide. "Wait, I thought we were watching a rom-com? This is a horror flick!"

"Psh, you'll be fine," Y/N waved a dismissive hand, suppressing a grin. "Don't be such a baby."

"A baby?!" Jack sputtered, looking affronted. "I'll have you know I happen to be exceptionally brave when it comes to scary movies."

The opening scene was already building ominous tension as the coroners examined the mysterious body. Y/N felt Jack tense beside her on the couch. Leaning in closer, she murmured in a faux-spooky voice. "You're trembling, Jack. Should I pause it?"

"Don't you dare," he shot back, puffing out his chest in an attempt at nonchalance.

Y/N had to bite back a giggle at his bravado act. Onscreen, the music swelled as something creepy happened and Jack actually jumped, his arm tightening instinctively around her shoulders.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" he grumbled, throwing her a sideways glare as she dissolved into laughter.

Between squeals of laughter, Y/N managed, "Your face...oh my god, you should see...your face!"

Growling playfully, Jack tackled her until she was pinned beneath him on the couch, squeaking in surprise. His eyes danced with mirth, their noses brushing. "You think you're sooo funny, don't you?"

Y/N was breathless with residual giggles, grinning up at his adorably disgruntled expression. "I'm hilarious, what can I say?"

Jack's gaze dropped to her lips, his own quirking up. "You're something alright..."

The movie was all but forgotten as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning over her tingling lips. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut in anticipation and—

A bloodcurdling scream from the TV made them both start violently. Jack instinctively shielded Y/N, his solid weight pressing her deeper into the plush cushions as they both dissolved into laughter.

"Okay, okay!" Jack relented, rolling off her with a rueful chuckle. "You win, you scared the crap out of me. Put on a nice, safe comedy next, deal?"

Giggling, Y/N cuddled into his side once more, feeling warm and content. "Deal.”

…

22:07pm

The credits rolled after the satisfying final scene of The Autopsy of Jane Doe, but Y/N could barely focus - she was too busy trying to stifle her laughter at Jack's adorably petulant expression.

True to his word, he had stubbornly refused to utter a single word since halfway through the movie when Y/N's teasing over his reactions had reached epic proportions. While she had to admit the sight of the usually charismatic and smooth-talking Jack huddled under a blanket was priceless, the silent treatment was starting to make her feel a tad guilty.

"Aw, c'mon grumpy pants," she cajoled, shuffling closer and poking his firm bicep. "Don't be mad. I was just messing with you!"

Jack remained resolutely quiet, his chiseled jaw set in a mulish line as he stared straight ahead at the TV.

Biting her lip, Y/N trailed her fingers along the sculpted line of his arm, feeling the hard muscle there. "You know...the strong, silent type is pretty hot." She batted her lashes at him coyly. "Very brooding and mysterious."

A muscle in Jack's cheek twitched ever so slightly, but he didn't react further. Undeterred, Y/N let her roaming hand travel up to the nape of his neck, nails grazing the short hairs there in the way she knew drove him wild. "But you know what's even hotter?" she breathed, lips almost brushing the shell of his ear.

Jack swallowed hard but stayed frustratingly silent.

"A guy who can play it cool..." Y/N continued in a sultry murmur, throwing one leg over Jack's lap to straddle him. She felt him tense beneath her as she leaned in closer, her lips a hair's breadth from his. "But who can't resist losing control when I do...this..."

Tangling her fingers in those ridiculously soft locks of his, Y/N slanted her mouth over Jack's in a searing, scorching kiss. For a beat, he was motionless - then with a muffled groan, his arms came up to crush her against him, one hand spanning her lower back while the other cupped her neck to angle her head for deeper access.

When they finally broke apart, twin looks of dazed arousal and swollen lips, Jack let out a breathy chuckle. "Damnit, woman...that's just not fair."

"All's fair in love and horror movies, babe," Y/N shot back cheekily, reveling in the feel of his heart thudding against her breast. She nuzzled his jaw affectionately. "So, am I forgiven yet?"

"I suppose that's one way to get me to stop giving you the silent treatment," Jack murmured wryly, his warm palm skimming up and down her back.

"Good." Y/N punctuated the word with another lingering kiss. "Because I have so many more ways to make you lose that cool, calm, collected demeanor you try so hard to maintain around me..."

The low, rumbling groan that earned from the man beneath her sent tingles of delight racing through Y/N's veins. Suddenly, the credits faded to black as the TV shut off - but neither of them cared one bit.

Y/N shivered as Jack's hands roamed boldly along her curves, his touch like a blazing trail across her heated skin. His lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, teeth grazing teasingly.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His gravelly murmur had desire coiling low in her belly. "All I want is to make you mine in every way possible."

She whimpered softly as his kisses trailed down the column of her throat. "Jack...I'm already yours. You know how much I like you."

He pulled back just enough to pin her with an intense, molten stare. "Say it again."

Y/N reached up to trace the chiseled line of his jaw, reveling in the rough rasp of his five o'clock shadow. "I'm yours, Jack. All yours."

A primal sound rumbled from deep within his chest as he surged forward to slant his mouth over hers again. This kiss was all-consuming fierceness, stealing her breath and setting her nerve endings alight.

When he finally tore his lips away, Jack pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath fanning over her tingling mouth. "You have no idea what those words do to me, baby."

"Show me," Y/N challenged breathlessly, tugging him back down for another scorching kiss.

Jack groaned into her mouth as her nails raked through his hair. "You're playing with fire, sun." His hands drifted under the hem of her shirt, calloused palms blazing a path along her sides. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N rocked teasingly against the undeniable evidence of his arousal, earning a guttural curse from Jack's lips. "What do you think?" she whispered.

That seemed to snap the tenuous restraint Jack had been clinging to. With a low, feral growl, he grasped her thighs and surged to his feet in one fluid motion, carrying her towards the bedroom as she squealed with surprise and delight.

"Jack! What are you--mmph..."

His mouth slanted over hers again, effectively swallowing the rest of her words in a heated kiss that had her toes curling. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with naked want. "I'll show you exactly what I want, gorgeous. And this time..." He emphasized the words with a firm roll of his hips, drawing a strangled whimper from Y/N's lips. "You're not going to be doing any teasing."

Y/N's heart raced as Jack's heated kisses trailed along her jawline. She wanted this - god, did she want him - but a fluttering tendril of nervousness unfurled in her belly. This was new territory for them.

When he suddenly grasped her thighs and stood, carrying her towards the bedroom, she squeaked in surprise. "Jack! What are you--"

His searing kiss swallowed the rest of her words as he walked them down the hallway. Breaking apart, Y/N managed to breathe out, "Third door on the left..."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly at the waver in her tone, but he followed her directions until they tumbled onto her bed in a heated tangle of limbs.

Pinning her with those scorching blue eyes, he cupped her cheek tenderly. "You okay, sunshine? We can slow down if you need to."

Y/N's breath hitched at the concern in his voice, the nervousness in her gut blossoming into a warm glow. Leaning up to brush her lips against his, she murmured, "I'm okay, I promise. Just...it's been awhile for me and you mean so much to me, Jack. I don't want to mess this up."

The rough pad of his thumb stroked her flushed cheek as he gazed down at her with undisguised adoration. "You could never mess this up, baby. We'll go as slow as you need, okay?" He punctuated the words with another lingering kiss.

Some of the nervous tension in Y/N's body eased at his reassuring words. Winding her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and aching.

When they finally parted, Jack rested his forehead against hers. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," she answered honestly, feeling more sure now. She brushed her fingers through his tousled hair. "I want this. I want you, Jack...so badly. Please..."

The low groan he let out at her ardent whispers had heat licking through her veins. "You're going to be the death of me, woman," he rasped, settling his weight more firmly against her.

Then with a crooked grin, he asked in a tone laced with sin, "Now...where were we?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N pulled him closer until they were flush against each other, relishing in his full body shudder. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip teasingly. "I believe you were showing me what you wanted..."

…

9:12am

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, Y/N stirred from her slumber to the gentle touch of Jack's lips upon her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile gracing her face as she murmured before she'd even opened her eyes. "Good morning, Jack."

He leaned over her, his warm breath caressing her skin as he whispered, “Good morning, sleepy.” Jack grinned at her, all tousled bedhead and sparkling eyes. Shifting closer, he rested his head on her chest, letting his palm skim over her stomach in a tender caress.

Y/N stilled, nerves fluttering in her belly. She knew the small swell there wasn't noticeable yet, but the thought of Jack discovering her secret terrified her. She would tell him soon - but for now, she just wanted to bask in Jack's love and affection, pushing everything else aside.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" Jack's concerned murmur broke through her thoughts. "Do I make you nervous?"

He tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but Y/N couldn't shake the rising tide of anxiety. Almost involuntarily, her hand drifted to rest over her belly, cradling it protectively.

Jack's eyes tracked the movement, a small crease appearing between his brows. Biting her lip, Y/N forced a reassuring smile, not wanting to ruin their blissful morning just yet. "Nothing, I'm okay. Just...really happy to wake up with you here."

The crinkles by Jack's eyes deepened as his grin widened. "Me too, baby.”

Before he could say anything more, Y/N brushed off her nerves with a shake of her head, pulling his face up to hers. She showered him with kisses, her lips trailing across his face and neck. His touch was intoxicating, making her forget her worries for the moment.

Smoothing back her tousled hair, Jack held her gaze intently. "I really like you, you know that?" He murmured, pure sincerity ringing in his voice. "Waking up with you in my arms is everything I've ever wanted."

…

19:51pm

Two days later…

Y/N hummed along to the spectators commentary as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She was in the zone, the fictional world of her romance novel unfolding vividly in her mind's eye.

She read over the last few paragraphs she had written, her eyes skimming over the description of the protagonist's first meeting with her love interest.

It reminded Y/N of her own first encounter with Jack, the way his intense gaze had sent shivers down her spine, the way his rumbling voice had made her heart flutter in her chest.

A loud cheer from the TV made her jump, almost upending her coffee mug. Right, the Rangers game was on in the background. She shot a brief glance at the screen to see the Devils had scored again. Biting her lip, Y/N quickly typed out another paragraph before risking another look.

There was Jack, skating hard across the ice, that familiar intense expression etched onto his ruggedly handsome features.

Y/N turned up the volume slightly, smiling as she watched Jack deftly steal the puck and take off towards the opposing goal. That smile quickly turned into a wince, however, when a burly Rangers player body-checked Jack viciously from behind, sending him crashing hard into the boards.

"Son of a bitch!" Y/N shot to her feet, coffee completely forgotten, as the announcers' voices rose in a blend of shock and anger.

On screen, Jack had rolled to his knees, shaking off the brutal hit. But then he was lunging right back at the offending player, throwing wild haymakers as the two men tumbled to the ice in an all-out brawl.

Her attention was wholly captured by the scene unfolding on the television screen. Jack's gloved fist connected with the other player's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The Rangers player quickly retaliated, and within seconds, the two were engaged in a full-blown fight on the ice.

Gloves and helmets were discarded as punches were thrown, each man trying to gain the upper hand. Y/N's heart raced as she watched Jack, his jersey torn and his face bruised, continue to trade blows with his opponent. She knew he could hold his own, but that didn't stop the worry from gnawing at her insides.

After what felt like an eternity, the referees finally managed to separate the two men, each one still struggling against their grip. That sinking feeling of dread intensified when she saw Jack being led off towards the locker room, one hand pressed to his ribs while the other hung limply at his side.

Grabbing her phone, she hurriedly dialed his number - straight to voicemail. A cold knot twisted in the pit of her stomach as she watched replay after replay of the ugly fight. She knew Jack could handle himself, but nightmare scenarios still played through her mind on a terrifying loop.

Y/N shook her head forcefully, cutting off that threatening spiral of panic. She needed to stay calm until she could get in touch with Jack or his coach. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she willed her racing heart to slow as she fixed her gaze on the TV once more.

She began pacing frantically back and forth across her office, the romance novel on her desk completely forgotten, heart pounding in her ears as she clutched the phone with a white-knuckled grip to her face.

"Heather, you didn't see it! That guy obliterated Jack from behind - it was like he had zero regard for his safety!" She paused to take a shuddering breath, chest tight with panic. "And then Jack just...snapped. I've never seen him fight before."

"Woah, woah, slow down hon." Her best friend's soothing tones filtered through the line. "Jack's a tough guy, you know that. I'm sure he can handle himself just fine."

"You didn't see the way he went down though," Y/N whispered, the image of Jack's crumpled form seared into her brain. Her free hand drifted unconsciously to cradle her stomach. "What if he's really hurt? What if—"

The shrill ring of her phone's second line cut her off. Glancing at the caller ID, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. It was Jack.

"Oh god, Heather, it's him! I gotta go." Not waiting for a reply, she quickly switched over. "Jack? Baby, are you okay?"

A pained grunt was her first reply, causing Y/N's heart to lurch violently. When Jack finally spoke, his voice was low and strained. "Hey sunshine...I'm okay, I promise. Well, okay-ish."

Y/N sank shakily onto the couch, knees wobbly with relief just from hearing his voice. "Where are you? What happened after they took you off the ice?"

"Still at the arena." Jack's measured inhale hissed across the line. "Got checked out by the trainers...possible fracture or two and lots of swelling. They want me to go get fully examined at the hospital though, make sure there's no internal bleeding or anything."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/N willed back the frightened tears pricking her eyes. Jack sounded pained but coherent — a good sign. "I'm coming to the hospital right now."

"No, no don't do that." Jack's tone softened, taking on that tender, coaxing quality he knew could instantly soothe her. "I'm gonna get all checked out and as soon as they clear me, I'll come straight to you. Just want to curl up on that cozy couch, eat something greasy, and cuddle my favorite girl, okay?"

A tremulous smile curved Y/N's lips at the thought, warmth blossoming in her chest. Even when injured, Jack knew just what to say to calm her raging emotions. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

"I know you will, baby." The smile was evident in his voice now. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Maybe, uh, just prepare yourself to be smothered in kisses in advance?"

Y/N huffed out a watery chuckle, swiping at the dampness on her cheeks. "I'll get the first aid kit ready, tough guy. Just...take care of yourself first, okay?”

The call disconnected with a soft click. Setting the phone aside, Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, absently cradling her belly once more. Jack would be home soon — bruised and battered, but mercifully not catastrophically injured.

…

2:35am

After a grueling two days in the hospital, Jack was finally released, his body aching but his heart longing for the comfort of home and the warmth of Y/N's embrace. He drove through the quiet streets, the anticipation building with every mile that brought him closer to her.

It was late when he arrived at her home, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the windows. He crept silently through the door, careful not to wake Y/N who he assumed was already in bed. As he made his way to their bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him.

Y/N lay curled up on their bed, her laptop still open beside her, the screen illuminating her peaceful face. Jack's heart swelled with love as he watched her, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He knew she must have been waiting up for him, working on her novel to distract herself from her worry.

Quietly, he changed into his pajamas and eased himself into bed beside her, pulling the covers over them both, the soft fabric enveloping them in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. he settled in, gently wrapping his arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her close to his chest.

Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she felt Jack's presence. "Jack?" she mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and heavy with exhaustion.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Go back to sleep, my love."

Y/N sighed contentedly, snuggling back into Jack's embrace. She intertwined her fingers with his, reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around her. He wanted to wake up to her beautiful face every morning.

With that thought in mind, he pulled her even closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her comforting scent. Tomorrow, he would surprise her with the news of the romantic getaway he had planned, a chance for them to escape the chaos of their lives and focus on nothing but each other.

…

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691, @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3, @skepvids, @urbanflorals, @hischierswhore, @literatureluster, @voidohanax, @ivy-34,

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

between the lines

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: dormmate! woozi x gn! reader

↬ tags: bringing the 96 liners into this because i can, pining + longing, love is blind yada yada <3, quite wholesome towards the end

summary: through unspoken thoughts and harmless meddling, both you and jihoon get caught in the midst of your friends playful matchmaking

word count: 1.1k words

a/n: i posted it a whole day later ,, i thought today was the 1st of august… ㅠㅠ

jihoon wanted to get close to you. but the only thing stopping him was just that he was bad at initiating anything, especially when it came to things concerning you. unlike his friends who seemed to so easily befriended you. he sadly thinks that his love language might just be existing.

soonyoung displayed his affections with physical banter, oftentimes grabbing you and roughing you up playfully. you didn't mind it one bit, but jihoon did when his chest tightened at the sight of you leaning against soonyoung almost willingly as the male scrolls through his phone and shows it to you. or when you linked arms with soonyoung as the two of you strolled, leaving jihoon trailing behind.

the ever so brotherly junhwi was like a big sibling figure: upon your request, jun always never hesitated to do anything for you within reason. acts of service was something jun excelled at; on the other hand jihoon's dejection simmered beneath his skin when you walked past him towards jun, asking for his help even though jihoon could have done it too.

you sought wonwoo to spend time together. every time he thought of asking you to do passive things together, you had claimed to be spending time with wonwoo instead. wonwoo and you clicked because of the games you two played, but outside of gaming you two also do school work together in comfortable silence.

in conclusion, he's bad at expressing his feelings that he wanted to be with you. he found it confusing himself too, not being able to put a feeling as to why he always desired to spend time with you, to hold your hand, to do things for you.

funny thing was that, his friends knew about his way-too-obvious crush, and have been devising so many ways for you two to be alone together. call it brothers for brothers, or something.

jihoon zones back into the present: it was a movie night after finals and you had suggested to host a sleepover with the rest of them. wonwoo lightly bumps shoulders with jihoon; a curt nod, and a small grin.

junhwi unpacks all the food and exclaims in displeasure (jihoon thinks it was a bit too much), "we didn't get the drinks!" sooyoung makes a show of sighing (a little too loudly), "dang i was just getting thirsty for some cola..."

"i can go get them!" you offered unknowingly and jihoon perked up. his three friends looked at each other, as if their brains were firing off signals simultaneously and jihoon immediately claims, "i'll go down too, you guys can set up the area."

"yeah that would be good. we aren't too familiar with the neighborhood here." wonwoo adds on, sealing the deal. (jihoon never thought he'd see the stoic wonwoo trying his best to fight off a playful smirk)

with a recycle bag slung on jihoon's shoulder, the two of you headed out as the evening sun started to dip. "i'm glad finals are over." you light-heartedly started the conversation, beaming a little when jihoon reciprocates with his shy smile, "me too. it's been a while since we last saw them too."

silence blanketed you two again, and jihoon started getting fidgety as the convenience store emerged as both of you turned left. you glanced at the male, "jihoon, do you have something to say to me?" his shocked expression betrayed him with a mere statement from you.

you soften your eyes, "is this about the laundry? if it is, then i'm sorry, i knew it was my responsibility and i've been just so cooped up with all the tests and everything, and i know that you're a stickler for hygiene and i--" jihoon notices a whizzing cyclists pedaling downslope and immediately drags you towards him, "watch it!"

you let out a gentle "oof" at the sudden impact and jihoon hopes his heart wasn't beating too loudly. you moved away from him almost as quickly as he pulled you in.

"you okay?" his hands were still lightly grasping yours and your face flushed under his scrutiny, "yeah. you can let go of me now." jihoon's reluctance seemed to catch your eye too, "did you mean to talk about something else?"

dang it, you and your perception.

jihoon glanced down at his hand intertwined with yours, "why can't i link arms with you like you do with soonyoung?" you were mildly taken aback by the sudden question, but jihoon pressed on, "or when you got jun to do things for you when i could do them too? i'm your roommate, not him. certainly you don't need him to move your shelf when i was around."

you stared back at him with an unreadable expression and jihoon abashedly looks at the ground, "and when you spend time with wonwoo instead of me, i feel like i've been...left out. i don't know, tell me if i'm reading too much into this or maybe..."

he hears your sudden laughter amidst his worries and he thinks you might have lost it. you wiped away a tear from the sheer amount of force it took you when you started chuckling, "i didn't think this day would come. i like you, lee jihoon. like, a lot."

jihoon sputters, "this entire time?" you averted your gaze, "i just wanna ask if...maybe you do have feelings for me?"

"i do, for as long as i've met you and i..." you pecked him on the cheek and rocked back on your heels, "then that's all i wanted to hear."

if jihoon could combust right now, he would. he noticed how your blushing face mirrored his and he pulled you in for a hug: this time it was far from anything like that of two friends embracing.

"the things you mentioned: about soonyoung, he's just naturally clingy like that, but i thought maybe if i got closer to him it would make you jealous. same with jun, or more like he offered and i decided to test you a little to see if i was right. and for wonwoo, he was totally on board trying to rile you up."

you stopped your rambling and raised your hands as if to surrender, "i said my piece. the boys had a hand in all of these sneaky actions."

your words caused jihoon's mind to run at miles per hour, "but they told me they'd be 'wingmen' for me, and would try to create more opportunities for us to be alone together...?"

realization hit you. they've been instigating everything, orchestrating every action. "do you think they..."

"i think so." you confirmed his suspicions. hurriedly, you two entered the provision shop and bought the drinks, feet quickly carrying both of you back to the dorms to confront the three trouble makers.

the door bursts open at the impact, effectively shocking the three masterminds.

jun swallows his food comedically, "uh-oh." "seems like our plan worked out, huh?" wonwoo smirked as he leaned over to high-five an equally joyous soonyoung, "welcome back lovebirds!"

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[lagataprrr]

Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Chapter 3 No Hands

S. Gojo x plus!size fem reader

Warnings: slight dry humping, heavy makeout session, Gojo being completely obsessed with reader, readers insecurities maybe getting the best of her AGAIN

Blame it on the Club's Playlist | Masterlist

Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! They have more on their profile🥹

a/n: I did not edit this so im sorry beforehand for any grammatical errors. I hope yall enjoy this one!!! I wanted to delve more into like how self conscious one can feel when it comes to intimacy and I think I did it a lot on personal experiences. I love yall and you are all so beautiful!!!!! also if you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know <333333

Also!! Should I name readers two friends??? Give me suggestions in the comments!!

should I make an actual playlist for this series?

Enjoy reading <3

"Please do not forget that I expect your drafts of the introduction and methods section of your study, and please for the love of God. Write your own work." The professor lets out a breath. "I am so tired of having to send half of my class to the honor council because they can't write their own paper. Make smart choices." As soon as she turns around to leave, everyone starts packing their stuff.

You quickly type in your project to your reminder app on your laptop before closing it. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and stepping out of the classroom you're met with one of your friends.

"Well there's my favorite friend, ever." She says, a sly grin on her face and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if you texted the hottie you so sneakily went and did." You shake your head with a laugh as you both walked out of the science building. The slight chilly air on campus making you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, I have not."

And somehow, because the universe felt like exposing you. Your text ringtone chimed, twice. Your friend raising an eyebrow at you, and another chime making it a third message.

"Uh huh. Has he texted you by chance?" You roll your eyes, and pull your phone out of your pocket. Hottie with the body sent 3 new messages. "That's an interesting contact name."

"It was how he saved himself." You say quickly unlocking your phone and moving it away from your friends prying eyes.

Hottie with the body

how was your statistics class?

wait are u taking that class with Professor ibrahimbegovic?

she's so mean

You are quick to type in your responses, your friend watching with a curious look.

You:

It was alright, gotta finish up my draft for my study lol

and yesss

im guessing you've taken her class

"So did he text first or did you?"

"He did, but it's just talking about classes." You say, locking your phone and glancing at her. "What's with that face?"

"He's into you, babe"

You look away and scowl. "Not this again."

"Y/N, you have got to stop thinking that no guys can show you genuine interest because of your looks." She says earnestly, linking her arms with yours. "You're gorgeous, smart, and know how to throw that ass back like a Goddess."

"Oh my god." You let out a laugh.

"It's true!" Both of you reach the cafe and the bell chimes, "Go ahead and get a table I'll order our drinks." You nod and find a table near the window. Setting down your stuff and unlocking your phone again, this time scrolling through social media. You could hear the bell of the door chime again but you payed it no mind.

Your phone chimed again and you opened the message.

Hottie with the body

you look cute

Your head immediately looks up and you're met with Satoru standing at the entrance, his dark haired friend standing next to him. He shoots you a smile and heads your way. You don't miss the way your heart skips a beat as he makes his way towards.

"Hi." You greet, feeling your nerves pick up.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here."

"Oh yeah, totally not because everyone likes to come here after being grilled by hard professors." You joke and he chuckles.

"Oi, same thing as always?" His friend asks and Satoru nods. "Oh, you must be Y/N." His friend knowing your name catches you off guard.

He's talked about you? How cute!

More like embarrassing. Your mind battles with your thought.

You nervously laugh and nod. "I am. Yeah, t-that's me."

"I'm Suguru Geto, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." And he nods, heading to the line to the cash register.

"So, what's your study about?" Satoru questions as he takes the seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his cologne and fuck did he smell good. Your eyes went from his face and down to the rest of him, the black compression shirt he was wearing accentuated his form, and holy shit, were those abs?

He's way out of your league.

"Uh... well it's about the desensitization in peoples reactions to certain news headlines." Your eyes were still on him, going down to the grey sweatpants he wore, until you finally looked back up to his eyes. A smirk on his lips, clearly amused at your unashamed gaze.

"That's actually really interesting. For our class we had to do it about students anxiety levels between online and in person classes." You nod as he continued to explain, your eyes on his lips now.

Snap out of it you idiot, he's talking to you. Your mind practically yelled at you.

"Okay! One medium Y/F/D and a cheese danish." Your friend says, setting down your drink and treat as she takes the seat across from you. "Oh! Hello! You must be Satoru." She greets and you widened your eyes at her.

Satoru glances at you with his smirk again before nodding at her, introducing himself and making small talk.

Please swallow me Mother Earth.

"Oh! Y/N did you invite him to go out with us tomorrow?"

You tilted your head in confusion at this. "Tomorrow?" You did not have any plans tomorrow.

"Yeah, remember, we're supposed to go to the club again tomorrow." She says with a sly smirk. "We're trying to get this one to go out at least every Friday! She's a scholar but she needs to make memories."

"Sounds fun, you going?"

"No."

"Yes." Your friend and you say at the same time. You glare at her and she wiggles her eyebrows. "She is."

Satoru nods, but his eyes were on you the entire time. "I can meet you there, if you want." He's almost begging with the tone he used, his eyes on yours before glancing down at your lips, as you gnawed on that delicious lip he was literally aching to kiss again.

You felt heat creep up your neck, unsure. "She'd love it, in fact. Y/N since I'm picking up Y/F/N, you can ride with Gojo and meet us there!" She suggests, and Satoru nods in agreement.

Gojo? Who the hell is Gojo?

"I don't mind picking you up, if you're okay with it."

Gojo is his last name. Keep up.

"Sure." You respond almost unsure at your own response.

"Great. Then we'll see you tomorrow!"

And that is how you currently find yourself running around your apartment trying to make sure everything was perfect. You weren't expecting Satoru to come inside, but if it does happen, then at least everything would at least be decent. This time you were wearing a black romper dress, with matching black heels.

As you went back and forth in your apartment, your cat followed you, curious as to what could you possibly be doing. In the middle of your stress your phone chimed, and you let out a groan. Going to your room to grab it from the nightstand.

Satoru :):

I'm here.

but take your time, no rush at all

I know you're getting all prettied up

You felt heat creeping on your cheeks as you shake your head.

You:

I'm done, let me grab my ID and I'll come down

Satoru :):

sounds good, pretty

also

still can't believe you changed my contact name :(((((

You:

im sorryyyy

it was distracting

You made sure to lock your door and headed down, stepping onto the sidewalk looking for his blue BMW until you furrowed your brows. Looking down at your phone and starting to text him to ask if he was sure he put down the right address, until you heard a wolf whistle. Looking up to see a black Mercedes G-Wagon, the one that came out this year, at that. Satoru gets out of the car and gives you a boyish grin.

"Never fail to leave me breathless, pretty." You give him a wide smile, thanking him as your eyes raked over him. The white crewneck and black jeans doing wonders for him, along with his baby blue nike dunks. A pair of glasses sat on his nose and holy shit, did he smell good.

"You look good too." You reply, and he grins. Opening the passenger door for you and holding out his hand. You thank him as you take it and get in the car, unbeknownst to you Satoru glanced the light blue color that flashed from under your dress and he felt heat all over his neck. Closing the door and jogging back to the drivers side, he starts heading out in the direction of the club.

Your eyes glanced around the interior of the car, the smell of expensive leather making you wonder just how much does this cost. "How many cars do you own?" You ask absentmindedly, and then you slap a hand to your mouth. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Satoru laughs, "It's okay. I don't mind." Giving you a reassuring smile. "I have two of them here, my other cars are in my house in Shibuya."

"Other cars?" You ask incredulously. "We are in different tax brackets I see." You joke and he lets out a laugh, a smile on your face at the sound.

You both continue talking throughout the ride until you reach the club valet, only to furrow your brows as it seems the security guards were waving people off. Satoru was quick to roll down your window.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo, unfortunately sir we have a couple of pipes that burst in the restrooms so we're closed until they get fixed."

"Okay, thanks man."

"Mr. Gojo?" You tease as he rolls up your window.

"He's just being nice."

"Mhmm." You say as you text your friends group chat.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

You:

club is closed

Musketeer #1:

what??

so I got ready for NOTHING?

Musketeer #2:

bruh

im not even ready yet

but damn

Musketeer #1:

this was a sign for me to work on my backup assignments

Musketeer #2:

^same

we can go out next Friday

Musketeer #1:

Are u still with Gojo?

"Do you want to go eat something?" You glance up to see Satoru already looking through his phone.

"Are you hungry?"

He tilts his head at you with a smile. "I asked first."

"I am, are you?"

"I am." He nods and quickly puts in an address not the screen of the car. "I'll take you to this place that's nearby."

You nod and go back to your phone.

Musketeer #2:

she def is

she's probably not answering bc she's busy

sucking dick

Musketeer #1:

throat goat fr

Musketeer #2:

Hawk TUah

You:

ENOUGH

You lock your phone and glance out the window, heat on your cheeks and Satoru raises a brow at this. Though it's soon forgotten when you see the expensive restaurant that he's pulling into.

"Tapas Molecular Bar? Satoru..." You say as he puts the car in park. "This is expensive."

"I know." He says as he kills the engine, getting out of the car and heading to your side. Opening the door for you only for you to stay seated. His eyes meet yours and he gives you a smile. "I'm inviting."

"No, that's too much. I mean we barely know each other, and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of this-"

"Y/N, I don't think that of you. I just want to spoil you with some good food. I would've preferred this to be a date, but, I don't think you want that. So I'm inviting you to eat."

You gulp nervously at his confession and maybe just maybe... "Do you want it to be a date?"

"I'd love it if it was. But I respect your wishes."

Carefully stepping out of the car and watching him close the door, you let out a shaky breath. "Okay... it's a friends date then. As friends!" You clarify and It was like an instant light switch, the way Satoru beamed at this. A wide smile showing his perfect pearly white teeth, eyes crinkling because of how wide he was smiling. "But! Just this one time... okay?"

"Great! Now stop over thinking, this is a friends date and I'm treating you to the best food." You laugh as he practically bounces as he walks, and you link your arm around his. Just to make sure he doesn't actually float away with the way he was acting.

The double doors were opened and the restaurant could not look any fancier, it made you feel so out of place.

Satoru was quick to let the host know he needs a table for two, and you were both escorted to a windows seat on the second level. With a beautiful look out to the city, making you grin. Opening the camera app and quickly snapping a picture of the view and sending it to your friends.

Satoru was so ecstatic as he pulled out the chair for you and pushed you in, rambling on and on about how you'll love the food.

You felt nervous, your hands felt sweaty and could almost feel your entire body jitter. You cleared your throat a couple of times, trying to calm down.

"Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?" The server sent you a polite smile, before her eyes landed on Satoru. Interest shining in her eyes as her whole demeanor changed into that as someone interested.

"I'd like a coke." Satoru answers as his eyes skim the menu.

"I'll just have a water."

"Great, I'll be right back with your water." The servers eyes never once lifted off the white haired man sitting in front of you.

As soon as your gaze landed on the prices of the menu you felt like throwing up on the spot.

All those zeroes are supposed to be there?! You mentally screamed.

"Stop thinking so hard on the price, and find something you want to eat." Satoru says, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes meet your own.

It gave you the chance to really study his eyes, the striking blue that genuinely exuded the gentle calmness of a lake. The rest of his features complemented him so well, from his pretty pink lips to the sharp jawline. His hair that stuck out makes him look so handsome, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"It's thirteen courses?"

"Yup, and they're all so good."

"I think I read this menu and gained at least ten pounds." You joke, but Satoru didn't laugh.

"That's not true." He pouts, and tilts his head at you. "You seem to make a lot of comments about yourself negatively."

"It's a coping mechanism."

That's what you've told yourself your whole life.

"Stop that." You furrow your brows. "You're beautiful, no need for all of that."

As you were about to respond a glass of water was placed in front of you. Satoru sent you a wink and turned to the server, "We'll have the set menu with the five premium wine flight."

You read the menu to see what he was ordering and you choke on your spit. "Satoru-" He's ripping the menu from your hands and handing it to the server, shooing her away.

"Get ready to try the best food ever."

♡

Three and a half hours later you're sat in Satoru's car in a fit of giggles at one of his antics. The wine in your system making you feel more comfortable in your skin, as he drove you home.

"So, this friend date, how would you rate it?"

You thought for a second, raising a brow. "I'd say a 9/10."

Satoru dramatically gasps, as he parks in front of your apartment complex. "What took away that one point?"

"That's for me to know." You teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. You glanced at the apartment complex and back at Satoru. Chewing on your lower lip, and inhaling softly. "Thank you for tonight, Satoru. I had a lot of fun."

"So I take it, you enjoyed the friends date?"

You nodded with a smile, opening the car door and stepping out. "Do you..." You trailed off, a nervous tingle running up your spine as you glance back at the entrance of the complex to avoid his eyes. And that ridiculous boyish grin. "Maybe want to come in?"

He has a little pep in his step as he follows you up the complex and to your apartment. Praying to God that you left it as decent as possible. As soon as your front door opens your met with your cats excited meows as a greeting.

"Oh, who's this?" Satoru asks, bednign down to run his fingers over his soft fur.

"This is Luxio."

"Luxio? Like Pokemon Luxio?" He asks as he glanced up at you with a raised brow in curiosity. Your entire face heats up in embarrassment as you cringe, but nod nonetheless. "That's the most perfect name for him."

Your cat meows at this, purring loudly as he leans onto Satoru's hand, almost like agreeing with his statement.

"Well, anyways, welcome to my home." Your cat glances up, sort of narrowing his eyes at you and meows. "Oh, I'm sorry, welcome to mine and Luxio's home."

"Thank you for welcoming me." Satoru responds, scratching Luxio behind his ear.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it to see the dozens of messages from your friends.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

Musketeer #1:

Im so mad the club is closed.

I wanted to shake some ass

Musketeer #2:

they posted their playlist! ive been listening to it while doing hw

lmao

https.clubinfinity.com/playlist

Musketeer #1:

LIFESAVER

"Oh hey! One of my friends just sent me the link to the playlist they were going to play tonight in the club." You say as you head over to the small stereo set next to the tv in your living room, turning it on and connecting your phone. "Do you want to drink something?"

"What you got?" Satoru still engrossed with your cat.

"Pretty sure there's a tequila bottle under my sink."

After fighting with your bluetooth connection for around four minutes, the stereo finally pinged and the robotic voice of 'the bluetooth device has been connected' you mentally cheered. Pressing play on the song that began to blast through the speakers.

Listen to this track, bitch

"Finally!" And Satoru laughs behind you, already heading your way with two shot cups he found next to the tequila bottle. Handing you one and pouring your shot along with his.

"Pretty sure me and Suguru got drunk for the first time with this song." He says and you giggle, putting down your phone.

He clinks his glass with yours, "cheers." Both of you throwing your heads back as you swallowed the burning liquor.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants

Luxio took his place in his cat tower near the window of the living room as you and Satoru poured another shot, the tequila building up on the wine both of you drank earlier and the room feeling hot.

Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

With no shame, thanks to the liquor, you kick off your heels and throw your hands over Satoru's neck, dancing as you both laugh.

All that ass in yo' jeans Can Wale beat? Can Roscoe skeet? Long hair, she don't care

His hands finding comfort on your hips again as you moved, His gaze focused on you and only you. You grin at him before turning around, pressing against him.

When she walk she get stares Brown skin or a yellow-bone DJ, this my favorite song So I'ma make it thunderstorm Bud, want it Flocka, yeah Blow it, fuck it, I don't care

Your ass grinded against him, the alcohol burning through your blood and this time Satoru wasted no time to grind against you too. His jeans felt tight on his crotch in no time, feeling his cock harden at the sensual movements of yours that were driving him insane.

I'm tryna hit the hotel with two girls that swallow me Take this dick, wanna swallow, Pink Moscato got her freaky Ayy, you got me in a trance, please take off yo' pants Pussy pop on a handstand, you got me sweatin' Please pass me a fan, damn (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

And just like the song, Satoru definitely needed a fan. His entire body was heating up, and fuck did you look so good dancing on him again. And once again did you have him reeling behind you, when you suddenly bent down, hands on your knees and the view of you back so sensual bent made him groan.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move (ayy, ayy) And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Wale, uh)

His grip tightened on your hips, your ass moving in circles against his hard on. And fuck, that sensual look you sent him as you looked over your shoulder made him bite his lip. You sent him a flirty wink as you leaned back up hands now over his on your hips and swiveled them, pushing them with a precise pressure over his cock.

She said, "Look ma, no hands" She said, "Look ma, no hands" And, no darling, I don't dance And I'm with Roscoe, I'm with Waka I think I deserve a chance

"You're driving me insane." Satoru says in your ear, lips grazing the tip of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. Your panties were soaked, sticking on you and you're sure your juices were only seconds away from trailing down your thighs. His lips pressed soft kisses over your earlobe, slowly training down on your jaw and reaching the corner of your mouth. "You've been driving me insane since I met you." He confesses, pressing a particular almost feather light kiss near your lips.

You turn in his arms, once again your arms around his neck. Feeling his cock press against you. "Show me." You swear it was the alcohol. There's no way you just said that to this hot man standing in front of you.

You mentally ignore the loud and mean voice in your head, yelling at you about your physique and how you shouldn't.

"You sure? I don't want to scare you away." He whispers his blue eyes making your stomach churn in nerves.

"Show me, I..." You trailed off, bracing yourself in disbelief at your words. "I trust you."

Satoru wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours, his hands coming up to cup your face tilting your head up to be able to kiss you better. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, his tongue tracing all over your tongue.

"Fuck." He moaned, pressing hard kisses on your lips, bending his knees and now moving his hands to the back of your thighs.

"Satoru- wait!" He's lifting you up in no time, making you panic and wrap your legs around him tightly. Now his hands holding you under your ass, "Satoru I'm heavy, don't please."

"Shut up and tell me where your room is, baby." His lips sucking on the spot right below your ear, making you gasp.

"F-First door to the left." His legs move automatically, almost kicking your door down and closing it behind the both of you. His sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck as he slowly lays you down, one arm still gripping your thigh to be pressed to his side while his other arm supported him from fully laying his weight on you. Satoru pulls away to look at you, and you looked so beautiful like this. Under him, a little breathless and lips starting to swell from kissing him so fervently. He could also notice how you slowly but sure started shrinking away from his gaze, and Satoru would not allow this. Not this time.

"You're so fucking stunning." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands are fisting his shirt, letting out a whine into his mouth as he slowly ground his hips against your core. Your brows pinched up at the feeling, eyes looking into Satoru as you let you a gasp of pleasure. "So fucking beautiful," He presses kisses down your jaw, reaching all the way to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into your soft skin. Satoru slowly leaned back, leaning on his legs as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. His fingers ran over the romper you're wearing and reached to the neatly tied bow on the back of your neck that held the material on you. "Can I take this off, baby?"

Your eyes shown a glint of uncertainty, and Satoru was quick to cup your face and lean his forehead on yours. "Don't-" He was quick to whisper to you. "You're so beautiful, I want this. But do you?"

You let out a shaky breath, fiddling with a button of his shirt nervously. "I want this, but I just- I'm not really umm... confident without something covering me?" The alcohol was making you spill all the details. "Maybe not tonight?" Satoru not wanting you to feel uncomfortable he nods, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and moving off of you. Seeing his fallen look on his features made you feel so guilty, and you immediately felt so uncomfortable in your own skin.

"I think you should go."

Taglist: @bankaixx @shiftinghoe @uniquecutie-puffs @thewomans-stuff @plathsotherib @lanaismotherrrrrrr @fangirllookingforlife I love yall and thank you for reading <3

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 5: It's Like That

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.8k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

The mission you guys were called for was in fact, not top secret. That mission was about a week ago now. Your current mission? Also not top secret. 

In fact, the four of you have just wrapped it up. It was in the city, and now, you're all left with what to do for the rest of the day. 

" I think I'll go see a movie. "

Yuuji shares, scrolling through his phone to see the many titles which are currently playing. 

" What about you, Kugisaki? "

" It's still early. I think I'll go see a movie. "

" What about you, Y/N? "

Over the past week, you found yourself growing closer with Megumi. It was quite silly. The Megumi of your universe didn't exactly get along with you all that well. Your Yuuji could stuck to him like glue, but your Megumi and you could not sit in the same room for longer than an hour before the two of you start bickering. (Yes, it went down between the two of you that often.) On the rare days, the two of you would get into a physical fight.

That usually ended with you annoying him to no end, considering your fighting style revolves around other people their movements. It would eventually also escalate with him using his Ten Shadows technique on you (yes, you manage to piss him off that bad, that often.) Which in turn, would send you running. Usually to Sukuna. Not necessarily because he could beat the Ten Shadow technique, but simply because no one but you ever dared to bother Sukuna. It was a simple, unspoken rule. One Gojo loved to disrespect often. 

" Ah, I think I'll join Nobara. "

He nods while you grin, linking arms with Nobara who mirrors your expression. 

" Alright. I'm heading home. "

Moments later, Megumi is on his way home. 

" I'm going to the movies, what about you guys? "

Yuuji asks, waving his phone as you and Nobara are stood on the staircase leading towards the metro station. You let go of her, in turn of facing him. 

" What are you watching? "

" Human earthworm 4." 

He looks so proud as he says that. 

" Who even watches that?! I haven't even seen 1,2 or 3." 

" I think you'd be fine jumping in in 4-" 

Yuuji begins, explaining the plot to her. You cringe. It's not your type of film. 

" -So the theme is actually love! " 

Yuuji exclaims, all excited. You blink.

Ew, worm man. 

" I don't want to see some wormo man. Regardless of the theme. "

" It's human earthworm though. "

" I'm not going. "

" Awe, Y/N, what about you? "

" Uhm, no thanks. That movie franchise is... Not my thing. "

" We're gonna go shopping. Wanna join? "

" I just said I'm going to the movies! "

" Okay, see you later then. "

" Later Yuuji, have fun! "

The two of you walk along for a moment, agreeing about how stupid the whole concept of human earthworm is, when-

" Excuse me, do you know Itadori Yuuji? "

-

Moments later you, Nobara, and a girl whose name is Yuko, find yourselves at a simple cafe, as she explains the situation to you. 

" This is me at our middle school graduation ceremony. "

She hands her phone to Nobara, and you peek over her shoulder. Woah, now that's a glow up. 

" Woah, wait, that was only six months ago! What happened to you? "

" You did have quite the glow up. You're gorgeous!"

" Ah, thank you. I did grow 15 centimeters. And with moving to Tokyo and the stress of changing environments... "

" Woah... You're a real Sato Kuruko. "

" That's Itadori. -"

She's showing the two of you a different picture now. You recognize Yuuji in a different school uniform, only noticing now that he's really growing better into his features.

You hadn't gone to the same middle school as Yuuji in your own universe, instead, you were home schooled with the other kids of your clan. It's where you and Noritoshi learned to get along so well. He was a bastard child, yet next in line as the chief because of his technique. You're rejected because of your technique. 

" On graduation day, I worked up the courage to ask him for a picture. I actually wanted to get his number too, but it was already decided that I would be moving to Tokyo. " 

She continues to explain, her eyes downcast, a little sad about the memory.

" So when I saw Itadori earlier- I thought maybe with how I look now, I might.... "

You and Nobara catch on, giving each other incredulous looks. 

" Wait, Yuko, you mean-"

You begin, looking at her like some sort of silly cartoon, Nobara finishing your sentence for you. 

" - it's like that? "

Yuko replies with the same energy.

" Yes, it's like that. "

Barely a moment later, Nobara is calling someone. Ijichi, who was on his way to drop off Megumi. It doesn't take any effort for the driver to turn around. You doubt Megumi is aware of it.

" Someone who knows Itadori well is on his way here now. Let's hear what he has to say. "

" Uhm, if either of you are also interested in Itadori... "

Yuko starts, though Nobara's deadpan expression pulls a giggle from you. 

" No. "

Her eyes look dead serious as she says so. 

" Even if hell and earth were to dance the lambada, not happening. "

You snort at her words. 

" Yeah, you don't need to worry. I'm not interested either. " 

You smile reassuringly at Yuko. A few moments later, Megumi has arrived at your table, looking agitated. You smile at him. 

" All right, what's the big deal? "

" Hey Megumi, does Itadori have a girlfriend? " 

Nobara doesn't waste time today. She's getting straight into business. 

He raises a brow at her. 

" Hue? "

" This is Ozawa Yuko. She's actually something, something and something like... "

Her explanation is shady, both her and your expression serious. 

He breaks out a sweat, understanding the situation. 

" So it's like that? "

Both you and Nobara nod, sweating the seriousness of the situation as well. 

" Yes, it's like that. "

He ends up sitting down beside you. (Figure out the seating plan yourself, I'm not gonna make it complicated.) With a black coffee. 

You will never understand his preferred taste. 

" I doubt it. He didn't seem particularly upset about moving to Tokyo all of a sudden. And he's got one of those posters hanging up in his room. Anyone with a girlfriend wouldn't put up something like that, right? She wouldn't like that. "

Meanwhile, Nobara seems to be more concerned about his choice of drink. 

" Are you the type who drinks coffee black around girls to show off? Please stop. "

You blink as well, suddenly curious. Was he? 

He's annoyed by her words. 

" Don't forget, you're the one who called me. And I always drink it black. " 

Yuko finally speaks up now, an adorable blush on her face. 

" Um, by the way, do you happen to know what his type is? "

" A tall girl with a big ass. "

Both Megumi and Nobara turn to blink at you. You blink back at them. 

" What? I grew up around him and his- around him. " 

You blush in embarrassment, realizing you could be wrong. There's been enough proof of differences between your universe and this one after all. 

" Well, you're correct either way. He mentioned something about liking tall girls. "

Yuko, Nobara and you seem to communicate telepathically, like some kind of electric signal spreads between the three of you. You clink your glasses together, and Nobara slams her phone on the table. 

" You've got a shot! I'm gonna summon Itadori! You're okay with that right, Yuko?! "

She nods. 

" Yes! "

The messages between them are silly, and fast. And now, all that's left to do is wait. 

Not that you have to wait long. Soon enough Yuuji joins the scene, a paper bag of stuff in his hands. 

" Oh!, Fushiguro's here too? " 

Both you and Nobara blink. That was fast. 

Suddenly, you hurriedly glance at Nobara. She hadn't told him why he needed to come. Hadn't told him about Yuko. There was no way he could recognize her when she changed so much- Nobara seems to realize too, sweating the situation, holding out her hand to quickly introduce the two of them to one another. 

" Itadori! This girl is-"

" Oh!, it's Ozawa. How did you end up here? "

All three of you are impressed. Holding up imaginary 10s for his recognizing skill. 

Yuko and Yuuji end up spending the rest of the afternoon together, with Megumi, Nobara and you tagging along behind them. Megumi even felt soft enough to hold Yuuji's stuff for him. 

" Was that really okay, they could've at least exchanged numbers. "

Megumi points out, as Yuko leaves by train later that afternoon. You agree. Kind of. They had seemed to hit it off after all. 

" She exchanged hers with me, so it'll be fine. More important, Fushiguro, Y/N, I've finally recognized my own feelings. "

Both of you give her a curious glance. 

" Hue? "

Was she about to admit to having feelings for him? You shouldn't be surprised. The two got along really well, after all-

" The idea of Itadori getting a girlfriend before I get a boyfriend really pisses me off. "

Maybe not. You grin at her words, an imaginary embarrassed sweat drop running down your brow. 

Of course she'd say something like that. That sounds more like her. 

Megumi doesn't seem surprised. 

" Is that so? "

" Sorry for the wait! " 

Yuuji jumps back in between you and Nobara. 

" Walk behind me. "

You blink at Nobara's words. 

" Huh, what's this? What're you talking about? "

Yuuji seems confused. A feeling you relate to. Megumi doesn't seem to care. 

" Here. "

He's handing Yuuji back his bag of stuff. 

" Here, while you're at it. "

" Huh? What's this? "

" Wouldn't you feel bad for making a lady carry them? "

She's handing him her own bags now. 

" Sure. "

Yuuji doesn't seem to mind. 

" Want me to carry your stuff too, Y/N? " 

You smile at him, shaking your head. You're only holding one plastic bag loosely between your fingers, the bag full of snacks. 

" Oh, shoot! The movie's about to start, let's go! " 

Yuuji's jogging before any of you actually can check the time. 

" Hey! Wait up! Don't take my stuff with you! There's no way I'm watching some wormo man! "

Yuuji ignores her words, turning to Megumi. 

" Fushiguro, Y/N, wanna grab some popcorn? Fushiguro, you like caramel flavoured right? " 

" Don't just assume we're all going to watch wormo man. "

" I told you all, it's human earthworm. 4! "

-

You regret watching human earthworm 4.

There had been a little too many horror like sound effects and jumps in it, and now you didn't feel like sleeping. Your fear of horror films was a bit childish, but it rarely bothered you. 

And so you find yourself leaving your dorm. You want to make dumplings. But you don't have all the ingredients, so you need to go to a 24h convenient store. 

" What're you doing? " 

Your skin shivers before you jump, turning around to face the intruder who's sneaked up on you. 

" What the- Don't sneak up on me like that! "

Megumi blinks plainly at you. 

" Where are you going at this hour? "

" 24h convenient store. I can't- I'm gonna make dumplings. "

" Why? Do you really need to at this hour? Don't we have some in the freezer from the last package Yuuji got? "

" Yeah, but I want to make them fresh. "

Megumi blinks at you again, before sighing. 

" Okay, well, give me a second to change. I'm coming with you. "

You hadn't even realized that he was in his pijamas. You're in your pijamas too, an oversized sweater and a comfortable pair of leggings. You don't feel bothered enough to change though. 

A few moments later, he returns. 

" Okay, let's go. "

Thankfully, the walk towards the convenience store is short. Only 10 minutes. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, as you walk side by side down the stairs of Jujutsu Tech. 

You eye the forest surrounding the school grounds warily, like something might jump out to attack you any second. Like you don't have powers that literally render every living creature. Megumi glances down at you, realization finally making it's way into his brain. 

" Are you afraid of the dark? "

The wrong realization. But don't worry, he'll get there. 

You blink. 

" Oh, uhm, err- something like that. "

He's admittedly puzzled. So you weren't afraid of the dark. Maybe you've had a bad dream? He doesn't decide to push it. Instead, he softly takes your hand, holding it in his own, distracting you from your fears. 

You glance at him, a blush on your face. You smile gratefully at him, squeezing his hand as your peaceful silence returns. 

It doesn't take you long to get the remaining ingredients, and soon enough, the two of you are back at the dorms, now stood in the kitchen. 

" Thanks. You didn't need to come with me you know? " 

You smile at him as you unpack the bag. He blushes, looking away. 

" I wasn't going to let you go alone at this hour. "

He mumbles it, but it's just loud enough for you to hear. 

He eyes you preparing, before moving to stand at your side, nudging you away. 

" I'll cut up the vegetables. "

" Ah, thank you. "

There's a certain peace that resides between the two of you as you work in the kitchen together. It was nice, getting to know him this way. Your Megumi and you would've been bickering already. 

Once you've set the dough, you help in cutting up the remaining ingredients. Noticing he's deciding on the amount of ginger to cut up, you smile at him. 

" You can add extra if you'd like. "

He raises a brow at you. 

" You like extra ginger? "

" Not necessarily, but you do, right? "

He blinks, his eyes open in amazement. How did you know that? 

" Does your universe's Megumi like extra ginger too? "

You shrug. 

" Not sure. We don't actually get along that well in my universe.- I noticed you ordered that chicken dish that's ginger based, and how you were measuring just now. I just put one and one together and guessed. "

The quick smile you send leaves him blushing once more. He smiles at you. He hadn't realized you were so perceptive. 

His eyes return to his chopping work. 

" Tsumiki used to make dumplings with me when we were younger. "

You smile as he softens around you, before your features sharpen. 

" Oh, right, I completely forgot about it, but I wondered if I could visit Tsumiki sometime? I healed her in my universe, you see. "

Megumi's eyes widen, the grip on the knife he's holding loosening. Were you that powerful? You mentioned being able to use reverse cursed energy, but were you really able to apply that to illness as well? 

" I- you healed her? With your reverse cursed technique? Why? I thought we didn't get along in your universe? "

You nod. 

" That's true. Our relationship in my universe is hard to explain. I wouldn't borrow the you from my universe my charger, but if he'd need a kidney I'd offer it. We originally did get along. Until something silly happened. Gojo introduced us at a young age. "

Megumi's eyes remain wide. In all honesty, he was mostly still surprised that you might be able to heal her. He also didn't exactly understand how your universe's version of himself didn't like him. You were amazing. And if he were to be selfish, he wished you'd stay. 

" Hey, you guys are still up- what are you making? "

Both of you turn to see Yuuji standing in the kitchen's entryway, holding an empty bowl he must be returning. The moment is gone, the conversation something you'll return to later. 

" Yeah, we're making dumplings, wanna join? "

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi

[makeyoumine69]

Till Death Do Us Part (Chapter Six)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader; [no y/n]

SUMMARY: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it".

CONTAINS: Smut, masturbation (f&m), swearing, mild violence, abusive usage of phobias, obsessives & toxic behavior, sexual tension, love/hate, angst, gaslighting, mind manipulations.

WORDS: 5.2k

A/N: Hey guys! I'm still struggling with my health issues, but I'll try my best to keep up with the updates! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Oh, great, now I have to explain everything to him.

You were taken aback by his sudden curiosity and accidentally burned your finger on the hot pan. Startled, you squealed and brought it to your lips to blow on it. "Uh, I..." You turned and noticed how close Bateman was standing to you—dangerously close. 

I should tell him everything, shouldn't I? 

You swallowed hard and went to the sink to put your finger under cold water. "When I got here after work to pack up my things..." You paused to take a deep breath. "The door was open, so that's how I got in. Then I saw a girl, who I think was a prostitute, going through your things. She had your Rolex and a few other things. I caught her in the act and asked her to leave your things and go away." As you talked, the line between Patrick's eyebrows became more and more visible. "After she left, I found you unconscious in your bedroom, naked and covered in...well, it looks like you had a good time with that girl." You tried to hide the sadness in your voice, but you were okay with failing if that's what it took. 

"You were teetering on the edge of life and death, Patrick. It was really lucky that I knew how to resuscitate people in that condition, but you scared me so much," and now you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. You were sobbing as you turned off the tap and grabbed a paper towel. "It's none of my business what you do with your life, especially now that our wedding is off. But I... I don't want you to..." you stammered, not daring to finish the sentence. "Never mind," you added, wiping away the tears. "I was just doing my job." With that, you opened the cupboard to get some plates for the pasta.

As you spoke, Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brows. "Christ, what a bitch..." He muttered to himself, trying to remember what the prostitute he'd picked up even looked like. The man let out a sigh. "Well, maybe, but I don't even remember how the sex was, so it must not have been that amazing." He gave a dismissive wave with his hands. Then he paused when you mentioned that he'd almost died. He swallowed hard and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Oh..." Patrick closed his eyes to try to remember. He had a vague recollection of discovering a baggie of an unknown substance in his closet. He let out a groan and ran his hand over his face. "Oh my God..." "He mumbled quietly to himself, shaking his head slowly. He frowned and then noticed you were crying, squinting slightly. Bateman wasn't as bothered by your tears this time, but he didn't offer any comfort. He cleared his throat and glanced down. "Well, my mother said we can't cancel the wedding. We'd have to go through with it." He paused, then continued, "I don't know why I said that... It just came out before I could stop myself." Maybe it was how you seemed to care about him that softened him…or the fact that you saved him.

When Patrick announced that he couldn't cancel the wedding, you were so shocked that you dropped the plate and it shattered into pieces with a loud crack.

FUCK! He's gonna kill me! 

Shaking, you swore to yourself and immediately crouched down to pick up the pieces until one of them cut your finger quite deeply, a trail of blood running down your hand almost instantly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll buy you another plate," you apologized, wrapping your injured finger in a paper towel, which soaked up your blood too quickly, but you didn't notice. "My mom... I gave her a call to let her know that it was all over. She likely called your mother and convinced her not to cancel anything. This is such a mess!" You pressed a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from crying, knowing that Bateman couldn't stand that kind of behavior. "I'll take care of it." You promised and went back to picking up the broken glass, ignoring the pain and the fact that you were bleeding.

Paralyzed, Patrick watched you drop the plate and his face twitched a little. He recalled purchasing the plate from Pottery Barn. It cost $75. He then watched as you cut yourself, pursing his lips in a gesture of disapproval. The man suddenly burst out laughing, amused by the absurdity of the situation. Bateman shook his head and tapped your back with his foot. "Ah, you're such a fucking mess..." He chuckled, then bent down and grabbed your arm gently but firmly enough to pull you up to your feet. "Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom? I'll take care of this."  Patrick pointed to the broken plate. "But you owe me 75 dollars, okay?" He took the broom from the closet nearby and started sweeping up the pieces. "Just give your mother a call and let her know about the change of plans." He spoke in a calm, collected manner.

$75? For the fucking plate? 

Frowning, you walked across the living room to your large medical kit, still open from the last time you used it to save Patrick from death. With true professionalism, you quickly cleaned your wound and wrapped the bandage around your finger. Then you sneaked into his bedroom, avoiding his eyes because you were so embarrassed, and picked up the phone to call your mother. That conversation shocked you, because the things she told you were something you really didn't want to happen so soon. Hanging up the phone, you sighed and put it down before returning to the kitchen where Patrick was already eating pasta—the sight stirred something warm in your heart, but you shook it off almost immediately. Approaching the kitchen island, you placed the money next to the Bateman's plate. "Here, $75," you said, leaning against the wall. "I called my mom, she said that...that our families want us to hurry up with the wedding." Rebecca closed her eyes and hugged herself. "I don't want to, Patrick, I'm not ready..."

The man tensed when he heard your voice and turned to you, noodles still hanging from his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hand as he ate, a little embarrassed, before taking the money. "Uh, thanks..." Patrick was about to compliment your cooking, but stopped himself. He cleared his throat and scratched his neck, looking away. "Well..." Bateman thought for a moment, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I...I can take some time off work and we can...I don't know...get to know each other better. "

You rubbed your eyes wearily, your heart skipping a beat at Bateman's suggestion that you spend some time together, as if it would help you get to know each other better. Although you were ready to refuse his offer, something stopped you, but you weren't sure what it was? Your true feelings for him? Or maybe you were so tired from your work at the hospital and your studies that you just wanted to relax a bit. "That's... that's not a bad idea," you finally said and went to the kitchen to get a plate, and this time you even managed not to break it. "Remember when we were kids, we used to hang out at your family's summer house in Newport?" you asked, opening the pot to get some spaghetti. "I wish I could spend some time there again, it's such a fascinating place," you considered sitting next to Bateman, but then changed your mind and decided to eat standing up. "I guess I could ask for some time off, but... I have exams coming up, so... I have to study anyway." You suddenly giggled and looked at him playfully. "Maybe you could help me? I mean, since I have already treated you."

The man quickly finished his plate and dabbed at his mouth with his silk napkin, monogrammed with his initials in the corner. Then he looked up at you and shook his head. "Uh, no...no, I can't say that I really... remember." Patrick mumbled slowly, closing his eyes as if he was trying to remember something about his childhood, but it was all blocked. When he tried to think about school, playing in the sand, running around, the only memories that came back to him were making reservations, going to the gym, and killing a prostitute—all things that happened days ago. Or was it weeks? Maybe a month. He sighed. "But Price has that vacation house in the Hamptons. I've been there... it's... nice..." He shrugged nonchalantly, hiding his jealousy. With a wry grin, Bateman stood and walked over to the sink, setting his plate down. "Uh..." He paused, then beamed back at you. "Of course I can help." The charming facade he maintained hid his fear. He didn't really know anything about the medical field, but he didn't want to admit it—he hated not being in control of a situation.

Three days later, you finally decided to go to the Hamptons, where Tim's vacation house was waiting for you. Even though you didn't understand why it was necessary to get a limousine for your trip, it gave you some time to think about things - the last few days, to be exact. In all those days Patrick hadn't touched you, not even once. And how many times did you end up crying in bed at night because Bateman was somewhere else and not with you? Well, you were pretty sure he was with Courtney, and even when he usually came back in the morning or at night, the man never bothered to notice your swollen eyes. But why should he have? It was obvious that you were just not hot enough for him, not perfect enough - nothing seemed to be perfect enough for him. As the car took you farther and farther away from New York, you turned to look at the man next to you listening to the music, his Walkman clasped tightly in his hands. "Are we going to be alone in the house... or... are you expecting someone to join us?" You didn't know why you asked, and for a moment you even hoped that Patrick wouldn't notice your question because of the music.

Opening his tired eyes, Bateman glanced down at you and slid the headset to his shoulder. "Alone. I mean.. most of the time, at least." He smiled as the limo rolled to a stop on a paved driveway. 

The house was four stories tall, the tallest story being a glass terrace with a bar, swimming pool, and other amenities inside. The house was white with marble accents and oddly shaped windows- a contemporary dream. Patrick grumbled, jealous of the luxuriousness of the house. He put a ten dollar bill in the driver's hand and grabbed all the luggage with ease. 

"Don't be too impressed...I heard Price just inherited it from his parents." The man was lying, but he didn't want you to compare his place to Tim's beach house. It embarrassed him a little. But he took some comfort in the fact that his body was slightly better than Tim's, and that his hair wasn't thinning at all, while Tim's was. Patrick opened the door with his foot and stepped out, his hands and arms full of suitcases and bags. He walked to the front door and stopped in front of it. Sighing, Bateman looked at you with an embarrassed look. "Uh, the key is in my back pocket if you want to get it." He turned his hips towards you, the black pants he was wearing stretching around his toned legs and backside. His white button-up was tucked inside the pants, showing off his perfectly muscled body. "Ladies first."

Rolling your eyes, you took a deep breath before reaching into the pocket of Bateman's tight pants, surely feeling the firm ass that made your face burn from shame. "I hope I can handle this." You commented after pulling out the keys and searching for the one that would open the front door, trying not to look at him as you grew more and more embarrassed. 

Thankfully, the lock clicked and you both stepped inside. A bit later, you allowed yourself to look around the house, although Patrick refused to go with you as he remained in the living room not far from the bar. Trying to cheer yourself up, you went upstairs and paused by one of the doors before opening it with sheer confidence. As you stepped inside, a beautiful large room came into your vision. 

What an amazing bedroom.

You thought, as you walked around, looking at the satin sheets that yearned to be touched. As you did so, the smooth fabric felt amazing under your fingers and your lewd fantasies occupied your mind faster than you could stop them. Closing your eyes, you pressed the palm of your hand to your mouth as you indulged in your dirtiest fantasy, where you was were out on the bed and Bateman worshiped every little part of your “imperfect” body before ravaging you until you were nothing but a whimpering wet mess. 

STOP IT! 

Annoyed, you gave yourself an imaginary slap before turning to leave the room, your cheeks burning from the inside. As soon as you opened the door and walked out, you bumped into something very hard. Only then did you realize it was Patrick, and the sound of splashing drink made your heart stop. "Oh my God! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming!" You wailed, looking up at his stained shirt and empty glass of something that smelled strong enough to be alcohol.

So that’s it. He’ll definitely kick me out of the house.

The alcohol made the stain on his shirt translucent, exposing his pecs and abs. The man stared at you for a second, inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again and shook his head. "It's-it's fine. I packed enough shirts for our time here. Really, it's fine.." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, flexing his muscles slightly. "This shirt was on sale anyway... just, uh, be more careful next time..." He balled the shirt in his hands and tossed it into a nearby laundry basket. "Go unpack your things. You can have this room." Bateman pointed to the bedroom behind you.

Ashamed, you just nodded and hurried downstairs to get your bag, but when you came back Patrick was gone. 

Maybe it's for the best?

You hummed and went into the bedroom to unpack your things, noticing that everything in the bag looked so messy. Perplexed, you couldn't believe that Bateman could go through your things, he simply didn't find you interesting, so why would he waste his time on such things? Sighing sadly, you finished unpacking and grabbed a medical book, reassuring yourself that after your latest failure it was better to stay here and not bother him. All this time you had hoped the man would pay you a visit, but he didn't. 

Meanwhile, Patrick was upstairs, choosing his own room. The man put his clothes away and opened the other suitcase he had brought, which was full of his other... necessities. Inside were some porn tapes, magazines, a kitchen knife, a CZ-75 handgun, a bottle of lube, a pack of condoms, all his skin care products, and a pair of leather gloves. Humming, Bateman took off his black pants and wrapped himself in a silk robe. He grabbed one of the tapes and looked around his room, expecting a TV and VCR player. Frustrated, he huffed when he didn't find any.

That cheap bastard!

The man thought contemptuously and went downstairs when he saw that you weren't there. He sighed with relief and sat down on the couch in the living room and put the tape in. Then he untied his robe and pulled down his boxers, biting his lip as cold air hit his cock. The tape started playing, something he'd seen a hundred times before, but it still got him worked up. Thunder rumbled outside, shaking the house. He wondered for a moment if you were afraid of the thunder or if you were trying to sleep through it. Patrick shook the thought out of his head and focused on the screen, moving his hand up and down his now erect cock robotically, used to the now normal routine he was going through. He closed his eyes, blocking out any sounds other than the lewd moaning coming from the TV. He thought of Bethany, then Evelyn, then Courtney, then Bethany again, then... you. Moaning softly, Bateman thought of your ass, your tits, your face—it was almost enough to push him over the edge. The thought felt taboo to him, a forbidden attraction. Inflamed, he groaned and tilted his head back against the sofa, eyes closed, his jaw clenched in a face of pleasure as he moved his hand faster.

Unaware of what was happening downstairs, you read the book, lost track of time, and passed out on the bed for a few minutes, but soon your sleep was disturbed by the loud clap of thunder.

God, is this a monsoon season or something?  

You grumbled and got up to turn on the light, shaking with fear because you couldn't control yourself and you hated being alone during thunderstorms. Then you quickly regained your composure and left the room to go downstairs and maybe make a cup of green tea. As you entered the living room, you heard a lewd sound that turned out to be a woman's moaning. Embarrassed, you couldn't believe it - had Bateman really brought some of his chicks here on the very first day? Slowly you crept around the corner and spotted Patrick sitting on the black leather couch with his back to her, but from his twitching movements she could tell he was masturbating, watching porn on the big TV. Panting, you had to cover your mouth to avoid being noticed, but somehow you were sure Bateman heard her nervous gasps. Patrick's throaty groan sent shivers down your spine and you didn't know what to do as your mind screamed an alarm telling you to just come back to your room but you couldn't move as if you were stuck to that fucking wall. Breathlessly you felt your hard nipples brush against the thin fabric of your white top and you couldn't ignore the fire in your core any longer, letting your fingers slip into your panties soaked with your flavor. The moment you touched your swollen nub, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning, thinking that Patrick wouldn't be able to differentiate your moans from the lewd sounds of porn. Hot and bothered, you didn't notice that you were slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, your fingers continuing to rub your clit in unison with Bateman's guttural growl. "Mhmm, Patty..." you mewled out a little louder than you expected, and when you heard everything go silent, you stopped moving before carefully rising to your feet.

Suddenly, Bateman's eyes flew open at the sound of an unrecognizable moan, the sound breaking him from his reverie. He removed his hand from his cock and pursed his lips into a tight line, staring at the lewd scene before him. Then the man shifted so that he was sitting on his knees, the front of his body pressed against the back of the sofa so that he could get a better look at... you. As you stood up, he watched you with a penetrating gaze. "Rebecca... sweetheart, love of my life..." Patrick crooned softly, a smile creeping across his face. "Were you... spying on me again?" He raised an eyebrow at the sudden rush of confidence running through his veins. He stood up, staying behind the couch so as not to intimidate you with his naked form. "Rebecca..." He murmured slowly, his voice comforting yet unsettling. "If you are... attracted to me... you can say so. This is the second time I've caught you pleasuring yourself over me. Am I right? The second time?"

Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and fixed your top and panties. "What will it change if I say that?" you suddenly rejoined, shuddering at the bright flash of lightning, your hands clawing at the nearby wall. 

Patrick tied the robe back around his waist, keeping his eyes on you, and put his hands on his hips, now annoyed. "Uh, a lot, actually." He sneered at you. "If you would just be honest with yourself, and me, then we can end this…this game of facades."

"No, it will change…nothing." As the word fell from your trembling lips, you walked away before Bateman could see the tears streaming down your sad, twitching face. 

Without looking back, you  hurried back upstairs to your room, where you curled up on the king-size bed, crying as you tucked yourself under the covers. 

Get out of my head, get fucking out!

Trembling, you closed your ears, but the pornographic moans continued to spin in your head along with Patrick’s growling as he jerked off, as if that was not enough, your mind decided to make you suffer even more by adding the picture of Courtney making out with Bateman as if it was happening right in front of your eyes. 

"Fucking bastard, I hate you!" You spat through your gritted teeth and clutched the pillow with all your might.

As you walked away, Patrick sighed, exasperated and annoyed. Women always annoyed him with their emotions. Cursing to himself, he followed you to your temporary room, pausing when he heard you scream at the door. Shaking off the urge to go into full violence mode, Bateman knocked on the door. "Rebecca, come out. You're hysterical." He kept his voice calm, even though he really wanted to yell at you - tell you how stupid you were. "Let's just... y'know, talk, okay?"

The moment you heard his voice, all of your insides clenched into a tight knot, forcing you to tremble under the covers. "Leave me..." you wanted to say something else but you paused suddenly, as if your inner nature was protesting and refusing to obey, not allowing you to finish what you were about to say. "Uh, fuck!" you cursed, pulling the blanket away before sauntering to the door to open it. 

Sobbing, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that Bateman was smart enough to put on a robe, at least he didn't make you suffer from seeing him naked. "You want to talk?" you asked, briefly wiping away your tears. "Let's talk. Have you hired a hooker yet? That's why you decided to warm up with porn?" You crossed your arms like him. "How did you get like this, Patrick? How could money and wealth change you so much?"

Bateman frowned at the accusation. "What? No, of course not. I don't even know any in this area." He closed his eyes tightly for a moment to stave off the impending headache before opening them again. "I just... I have needs, Rebecca. I'm a man with needs...and I didn't want to spend money on a hooker, and you...well, I don't know if you'd even..." He paused and sighed. "You're so...frustrating. You treat me like a monster, but then you jerk off to me!. I don't... it's hard to... you know... read you." His eyes widened slightly. "Change me? I can... assure you, nothing has changed." Bateman smiled, but inside he felt like a bundle of nerves ready to spring. Has he changed? If he had, he couldn't remember. "And I've always had money, in case you forgot!"

You’re worse than a monster.

You thought, biting your lower lip. "Speaking of needs," you leaned against the door, not noticing that your hard nipples were visible through the white top. "I have them too, especially when I'm ovulating, but I'm not driven by them! We're humans, not animals!" 

"Oh my God, oh my fucking God." Bateman muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not driven by them. I have a high sex drive, okay? If I want to spend the night with a hardbody, is that so wrong, Rebecca? Are you...jealous, huh? Is that the problem?" He was getting angry now, his jaw clenching as he spoke. "I know you're a virgin, so you could never understand, but I want to be distracted. My life is a living hell and I want to feel something. Do you understand?"

You scowled as the memory of the recent incident with the hooker flashed through your mind. "I remember when I came to your apartment and that prostitute was about to rob you...you were unconscious in your bedroom, covered in your...semen and completely wasted." With that you sighed and ran a hand over your face. "This is so wrong and disgusting, Patrick." Your voice was laced with pain and sadness, but you managed to keep your composure as you stepped back into the room. "If I lie on this fucking bed right now and tell you that you can do whatever you want to me... will that stop this madness?" You swallowed the fresh tears and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just break my neck and tell your lawyer it was an accident so my family and you can get money from my life insurance. Come on! Do it!" You continued to taunt him fearlessly. "'Cause I'm...so fucking tired of this life...of my dearest family...I hate...I HATE YOU! ALL OF YOU!"

Patrick exhaled and then stepped back, watching you mentally collapse. Then he came closer, leaned down and slapped you hard with the palm of his hand. "Pull yourself together..." He said slowly, so you could hear every word. "I know you're a... you're a smart woman... but you're hysterical. If you keep this up, I... I don't know what I'm going to do. " Bateman murmured in a defeated tone, staring at you with an almost pleading look.

Once his heavy palm met your face, you could see stars in front of your eyes, but you didn't make a sound. You just touched your bleeding lower lip and looked at the blood on the outside of your hand. "Don't you dare..." you hissed and quickly stood up. "...to touch me again!" And then you slapped his face in return, your palm burning from the force of the blow. 

Shocked, Patrick stumbled to the side from the slap, holding his cheek. He stayed still, slowly bringing his hand to his lips. The man pulled his hand away, seeing a dot of blood on his finger. Rage overtook him.

"Not the face..."

"I'll call the cops and you will rot in jail, you fucking psycho!"  Scared to death, you were about to rush to the nearby bathroom, but you twisted your ankle and fell to the floor, frowning from the sharp pain. With a muffled whimper, you  attempted to crawl away from Bateman, knowing that he would probably kill you here and now.

Now…Everything will be finally over.

"Not the face..." He muttered again before whipping his body around just as you fell to the ground. "NOT THE FACE YOU BITCH! YOU- PIECE OF TRASH!" Bateman roared, stomping towards your trembling little frame. Infuriated, he tilted his head and stepped on your back, stopping your movements. He watched you through the red veil, his face contorted with rage. After a moment, his features softened. Under normal circumstances, he would kill you. No question about it. But these were no normal circumstances. Patrick reached down and grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you to the nearby bathroom and pushing you inside.

There were no windows, just a toilet, a sink and a mirror. "You... stay in here and think about what you just did." He said through his teeth, staring at you with intense anger. "I brought us here for you. I tried to do something nice for you. But you can't appreciate anything I do, can you? I am... trying my best here, Rebecca. But you treat me like some... monster. Just because I hire prostitutes? Is that it?" Bateman scoffed, then sighed. "When you're ready to apologize, you'll get an ice pack on your ankle. Until then... enjoy your solitude, I guess." Then he closed the door, took a key from the table and locked the door from the outside.

It was only when you heard the lock click and the light go out that you realized you were trapped in the dark bathroom...alone. And worst of all, you had a fear of the dark, Patrick probably forgot about this—just like all moments you shared in childhood. As you heard his distant footsteps, you spiraled more and more into the panic attack, feeling your lungs spasm painfully from your rapid breathing. 

Calm down, Rebecca! Calm down! It's just the darkness, there's no one here but you.

You tried to count to ten, but couldn't as your mind didn’t function, stuck on the horrifying images of being trapped here forever. 

What if he left me here to die? In this fucking bathroom?

Frightened, you sobbed, biting your lips to stifle your crying, not wanting to give Bateman the pleasure of hearing you. The metallic taste of the blood almost made you gag, along with the surrounding darkness that pressed down on you like a heavy press. Shaking, you slipped to the floor and hugged your knees, pressing them closer to your chest as you curled up on the cold floor like an embryo. 

I will not ask him to let me out...I will not! I...can...hold on...I'm strong enough to make it through!

Your cries barely audible, shaking violently as you were so fucking scared and broken, mentally and physically, that it seemed you would never see the light of day, locked here forever. How pathetic and stupid it would be to die like that…

At the same time, Patrick sighed and ran his hand over his face as he sat down on the bed. Frustrated, the man crossed his leg over the other, bouncing them slightly as he looked at the still image on the TV from the paused pornography. He drummed his fingers against the side of his head, raising an eyebrow as a memory came back to him like a freight train—you were scared of the dark and he forgot to turn the lights on in the bathroom. Bateman cursed himself, glancing back at the locked door. He didn't want to send you into hysterics, he wanted to do the opposite actually—give you time to think about how much you were overreacting. Patrick stared at the door for a few moments before standing up, walking back to it. He hesitated, the key hovering over the door knob. Then, the man swallowed his pride and unlocked it, opening the door a smidge and putting his hand against the bathroom wall, flicking on the light switch. He quickly closed the door again, not locking it this time as he pressed his body against the wall next to it. 

Closing his eyes, Bateman sighed softly, his chest movements slowing down. "What the hell is wrong with me?" 

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[roosterforme]

Boys Night In | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The boys make Bradley self conscious about you, and you give them a formal dressing down.

Warnings: Fluff and angst and more fluff, swears and adult banter

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You?

Check my masterlist! Banner by @mak-32

Bradley hated asking you to make yourself scarce for the night, right after you'd moved in with him no less. You didn't seem to mind though, rather you seemed really excited to go out dancing with Phoenix. 

You walked out of the bedroom just as Hangman, Coyote and Bob arrived, and Bradley took a moment to ogle you in your skin tight black dress paired with your beat up high tops. "Jesus, you look hot."

You just chuckled at him. "Even with these shoes? I don't want my feet to hurt, so I figured, who cares right?"

Bradley just shook his head as he let the guys inside. "Don't even think about talking to any other boys tonight. Phoenix is allowed to, but not you," he joked. 

You laughed and kissed his cheek, greeting everyone as they arrived. Bradley noticed Bob blush as you hugged him briefly, and as many times as he had told Hangman not to look at you, he was still looking at you. Specifically your ass. Bradley was going to need to have another conversation. 

And then he had to listen to Coyote flirting with you as well. "Oh, you're going out dancing? Rooster lets you go out dressed like that? You know, I think I'll skip the beers and poker game and join you instead," he told you, linking your arm through his elbow.

As Fanboy and Payback arrived, the flirtatious banter just escalated. Bradley didn't really mind. He did realize you were objectively very pretty, and you were a good sport about the teasing. Plus, they were really trying to get a rise out of Rooster, not you. So he decided not to react at all.

"Have fun, Baby Girl," he told you, planting a lingering kiss on your lips before you waved and left for the evening. 

Fanboy hooted with laughter. "Oh man, you're so lucky, Rooster."

Bradley just smirked and led everyone to the brand new dining room table to play cards while Hangman pulled a bunch of beers from the fridge. He knew what the other guys must be thinking, but he was happy they never said it out loud.

Until they did.

After a few games of poker and a case and a half of beer, the guys all stood to stretch and have some snacks. "These cookies are amazing," Payback remarked, eating a stack of three of the chocolate chip cookies you had made for them to enjoy. "Did Y/N make them?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley confirmed while he finished his beer. "She bakes and cooks all the time. I've gained so much weight in the last three months, it's ridiculous," he said, patting his still fairly muscular abdomen. 

Hangman just shook his head. "I still can't believe you got her to move in with you, man. Nice work."

"You still sore she turned you down?" Bradley asked with a grin.

"Nah. She's better off with you. Don't get me wrong, she's hot, but I would have probably just tried to hit it and move on, if I'm being honest," Hangman told him. The look in Bradley's eyes must have spurred him on to add, "Which is why it's great that you and she are together, man! She's awesome! Everyone likes her a lot!"

Bob, who was clearly drunk, decided to chime in next. “I’m just surprised you bought the house and had her move in this quickly, Rooster. Usually you’re quick to get a girl to leave after she's been in your bed once."

All five guys exploded in laughter around Rooster. Fuck, he knew he had a reputation, but he wasn't like that anymore. At all. There was only you now.

"Very funny," he muttered, setting down his fresh beer. He had a tight feeling in his stomach that was making him uncomfortable. If this is how his friends felt about him, that was pretty telling. God, was it embarrassing for you to be with him? He couldn't stand that thought in his head, but he could tell it was already taking up residence there. 

"I can't believe she settled for you, bro. But good on you," Coyote told him.

"I never thought we would see the day when you would retire from sleeping around," said Fanboy, shaking his head. "But she's a real sweetheart, so you made a good choice. She's definitely a dime. It's honestly crazy how you pulled this off." Fanboy clapped him on the back, but Bradley just stood there for a few extra beats as everyone else returned to the poker table. 

------------------------------------

Even with the sneakers on, your feet were aching when you arrived home just after midnight. Phoenix had you dancing to every single song the DJ played, and you'd had so much fun with her. 

As you stepped onto the porch, you could hear the boys inside. It sounded like a mini frat party was happening. You unlocked the door and let yourself in, only to find Coyote was already passed out on the couch. Bob was for some reason sitting on the kitchen floor holding a plate of cookies. Rooster, Hangman, Payback and Fanboy were playing a video game really loudly. Every single one of them looked slightly drunk. 

"Having fun?" you asked the room at large.

A chorus of yeses greeted your ears, and Rooster immediately dropped his game controller to give you a hug and sloppy kiss on your cheek.

"Rooster! We're playing melee, dude!" complained Fanboy, slurring his words a bit. "We're gonna lose if you don't come back!"

"Play three player for a minute," Bradley told them as he followed you through the living room like a puppy. He watched you stop to pat Bob gently on the head, earning you a look of adoration from the WSO.

"You okay, Bob? Need anything?" you asked him sweetly.

"No, Y/N, I'm fine," Bob told you, his eyes a little glassy. "Rooster was right about you, ya know?"

You crouched down next to Bob to hear him better over the noise the others were making. "Oh yeah? Rooster was right about what?"

You turned to look up at your boyfriend. He'd clearly overindulged in drinking tonight, and he had a miserable, sad look on his face. He was alternating between reaching his hands out toward you and then tucking them into his jeans pockets.

"He stopped sleeping with anything with tits when he met you. Good decision," Bob slurred, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

"Oh," was all you managed to say as you withdrew your hand and stood to face Bradley. "That was a strange thing to say," you remarked, trying to lighten the tense look on Bradley's face. 

Bradley swayed a bit on his feet and just grunted in response. When you reached for him, he started walking toward your bedroom.

"What's wrong, Roo?" you asked, following him in.

He looked dejected, running his hand up and down the back of his neck. "Is it embarrassing for you? Being with me?" 

"Bradley? What are you talking about?" you asked, reaching for his hand. He wouldn't look you in the eye, no matter what you did. 

"I'm talking about us," he murmured, staring at the wall above your head. 

You pulled on his hands until he finally met your eyes. "I don't understand what you mean, Bradley."

"I need to know if I embarrass you. Apparently I'm just a retired manwhore, Y/N. That's how they all see me. That's how everybody sees me."

Your eyes went wide, gaping at him as you searched his face. "Roo, nobody sees you that way!" you told him, pulling him down to sit on the foot of the bed next to you. 

"The guys all do. They are genuinely shocked you're with me."

You cracked your knuckles and pulled your shoes off, tossing them into the corner. "They told you that tonight? They literally called you a 'retired manwhore'?"

Bradley just looked at you, misery on his face. "You're too good for me, Sweetheart. You could do a lot better than dating me."

You pushed his hair off of his forehead and caressed his cheek, and Bradley leaned into your touch. "Oh, Roo," you whispered before kissing his lips softly. "Nobody gets to talk to you like that when I'm around." You placed one more gentle kiss on the tip of his nose and pulled him to his feet. 

Once you had dragged him back into the living room, you clapped your hands loudly, waking up Coyote and making Bob jump to attention, cookies flying everywhere. Then you reached behind the TV and unplugged it forcefully from the wall.

"Listen up, assholes!" All six men just stared at you, thoroughly confused and quite drunk. "On your feet!" 

You watched as all six of these large men lined up silently in front of you, expressions of concern and fear on their faces. 

"Now, one or more of you made my boyfriend feel bad about himself, and that's not going to work for me. Understand?" You lectured loudly, pacing back and forth and making eye contact with each of them in turn. When you reached Bradley, you gave him a little peck on the cheek before continuing back down the line.

"You don't get to call Rooster names or make fun of him. Didn't you learn that in elementary school? It's not nice to do that to people. And sadly for you, now I'm in a not nice mood."

Bob audibly gulped. Hangman pressed his lips together in a tight line. Fanboy looked like he was going to wet himself. 

"It doesn’t matter who or what he used to do. He’s with me now, you absolute dickwads! Would any of you like to come forward and tell me to my face that you think I'm a joke? That you think I make poor decisions? That you think I settled for Rooster?"

They all stood silently in their lineup, staring straight ahead. None of them moved except for Bradley, who turned to face you with a look of absolute devotion on his face. You winked at him before you continued.

"No? I didn't think so. Furthermore, for all you know, I could have fucked a million other guys before Bradley. But the only thing you know for sure is that you think I'm pretty, and that I've never fucked any of you. And I never will. Except for you, Roo."

Bradley was smiling now.

"You all have exactly one minute to apologize sincerely to Bradley and then to me, or I will kick you out of my house and you'll never be invited back. And it better sound sincere, or I'm telling Penny that you insinuated that I settled for Rooster. I'll have her ring that bell every time you're at the Hard Deck, and I'll invite all of my friends to drink on your tabs. One minute starts right now." You crossed your arms and watched as they jumped into action.

Each man apologized in turn to Bradley and then to you with looks of real remorse on their faces. Fanboy looked like he might cry as he told you, "I didn't mean what I said to Rooster. And I'm sorry I upset you. I love the two of you together."

Bob was still wiping cookie crumbs off of his shirt as he gave you a gentle hug. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I should have never said what I did. I'm embarrassed, and I'll never do it again."

Payback looked at the floor as he apologized profusely. "You're right. It wasn't funny. Rooster and you are lucky to have each other."

Hangman half smiled at you and nodded. "Angel, you're perfect for him. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset either of you."

Coyote just said, "I'm very sorry, ma'am."

You uncrossed your arms. "Apologies accepted. Now you are welcome to crash here since you're all sloppy drunk. But I'm not going to get up and make you waffles in the morning like I originally planned." The looks of devastation on their faces were very satisfying as you continued. "I know you are all better than this, and I expect you to be better in the future. Now I'm taking this one and going to sleep," you said firmly, taking Bradley's hand in yours and heading to bed. 

"And don't you ever doubt that I want to be with you," you told Bradley. "I love you, Roo."

The next morning, you woke up early and made french press coffee and a stack of heart shaped pancakes just for Bradley's hangover. You tossed some granola bars and bottles of water at the rest of the guys. They moped as they inhaled the delicious smell of pancakes cooking, but they were nonetheless on top-notch behavior for you from that day forward. 

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