#me: man i suck at writing and dialogue

[mikimotopearl]

I don't think people realize how limited AI is, at least for now. It's a bit cringy. They keep tagging that explanation bot on twitter as if it's actually going to help😭. Unless you have actual reading comprehension issues and need a fucking 280 characters long tweet rephrased, it won't

[dragongeek1]

Started listening to the podcast TANIS and thoroughly enjoying it, went to see if there’s a tumblr tag presence and although it appears to be a small fandom I’m glad we all seem to agree on a few things:

the writing is a lil heavy handed, esp in dialogue, and not always that great (but we enjoy it anyway)

hell yeah dark mystery vibes dark mystery vibes dark mystery vibes

Geoff van Sant wants to fuck (and Nic is COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS)

[marklikely]

you guys know that phenomenon where dudes will be like "women aren't funny" but its just bc when a woman makes a joke they don't get it and take her seriously and just think she's like an idiot? like a woman will say smth silly as a joke and they'll just be like "smh you can't be serious you're so stupid" bc theyd rather think a woman is stupid than think that she's just saying it to be funny.

i feel like thats what happens in the reviews every time a woman tries to direct a campy b movie right now.

[testure-1988]

Reading Little Nemo is like:

"Oooh, beautiful art!"

*reads text*

[danielnelsen]

im reading all my old hwu fanfics oh god.. like i was a decent writer but some of the stuff i wrote smh......... and like.. the ships. or one in particular. had to write for the most popular ship if i wanted anyone to read anything i wrote but please know that i HATED it

[shatteredsnail]

killian in AofVW. that it all

[freunwol]

the thing about making things is that no one will make it the way you do so you just have to make it and the problem with that is that in order to make things you have to make it

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[willownwisp]

nice legs, daisy dukes.

i. nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go woo woo. (vendetta!leon x fem reader) author's note: like every responsible writer, this is not proofread because i run on my delusions and being thick faced. i write and call it a day. first entry of my valentine's advent, yayyyy! i tried to overcome my intense fear of dialogues because i know i suck at it omg please tell me if i did well, likes are vv appreciated! cw: nsfw. r18, MDNI PLS. fingering in public.

Leon feels like a creep, scratch that. He definitely looks like a creep. He probably looks like a thirty-six year old man waiting for a hot coed, because he is. He pulls out his phone to relieve himself of the slight shame, sends a dry text because he doesn't understand the purpose of an emoji. Never did. In his day, texts used to be enough and it was hot that you could send a coherent text with those small ass phones and even smaller keypad.

He leans against his Ducati looking like a fucking dick with an elaborately decorated box of pastries in hand. You've been eyeing the newly opened pâtisserie from across the street. He can be sweet when he wants to be, because he knows you're obsessed with those "instagrammable" treats. It gets him good boyfriend points because you matter, you're his sweet little bunny. The sweetest.

You're sweet when he sees you from the flood of students exiting the campus gates in your pink mini dress and a matching cardigan, a flood of warmth washes him, in his mind there are compartments. Store the trauma in another space deep inside his brain, and the other space a section of just you, he tucks away the image of you in this mini dress.

It's definitely going in his favorite outfits you wore.

You're sweet when you visibly perk up at the sight of him in all his 5'11 glory, beaming at him as you literally run towards where he stood. God you're just adorable.

"Lovey!"

Your sweet voice cuts through the idle murmur as you stand before him, and Leon looks at you with that soft gaze. You look like a bunny. A giddy one. The ribbons you wore on your hair come to view now that you're near, and the sight of your shapely thighs put him in a spell.

"Bunny, are you surprised?"

He replies with a smug smile.

"Uh-huh!"

You nod with a soft giggle, a faint blush dusting on your cheeks.

"We don't usually have lunch together…"

You add, the smile on your face is practically inextinguishable as you squirm. You're so fucking cute. He thinks before he brings up the box of pastries, presenting it to you like a cat gifting his owner a small trinket. You squeal before throwing your arms around him in a hug.

"Lovey! How did you know I wanted these?"

You ask and he chuckles, of course Leon would know. Who wouldn't when your social media is full of your ravings about the place, but he plays it off cool.

"I just did, bunny. Boyfriend senses and all."

That reply earns him a giggle from you and he's whipped. Your dainty hands grabbing the box as you mouth a small 'thank you' and his arms wrap around your waist. Lifting you up like nothing as he seats you atop his Ducati, like the pretty princess that you are.

"Where are we going, lovey?"

You ask, but the words fall on deaf ears for as soon as Leon had lifted you up in his hands, he's already thinking of ways to feel you, properly. The way your mini dress hikes up your thighs as he looks down to peek at your legs, he hums an acknowledgment to your question, his hands snaking from your waist to your thighs just where your mini dress ends. His thumbs rub lazy circles on your skin , before he lifts his head up to give you a cheeky grin.

"Anywhere bunny. Let's get out of here, yeah?" You nod obediently and he pulls away, giving your head a soft pat as you tell him off to not mess up your hairstyle and he rolls his eyes, takes the time to put your helmet on because he's a gentleman. "Hold on tight bunny." He'd say as you hug him from behind, the whole bike ride was silent as he speeds through traffic, only for the both of you to end up in a deserted park, right at a secluded spot just hidden behind trees and park picnic tables. Leon gets off first, taking off his helmet before turning his attention on you. He takes off yours only to be greeted by your confused face. "Are we having a picnic, lovey?" You ask, and he only gives you a smile before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. "If that's what my bunny wants." There's a teasing lilt on his voice as his hands wander up to your thighs, his calloused palms rubbing up and down, and you get an inkling that it was not picnic time. "Lovey, don't do that… we're in public…"   You tell him off shyly but he only quirks an eyebrow. "It doesn't really matter when we're all alone, yeah?" His voice is husky as he bring his left hand to grip your cheeks gently, his thumb moving to trace the outline of your lips. "We'll be fine bunny." He assures you as the hand that rubs down your thigh inch higher, and higher until the pad of his fingers kisses your clothed pussy.

"I've always taken care of you haven't I?"

You respond with a whine, it's hard to resist when he gets like this. All over you, hands, and close as he possibly can.

"Lovey…"

You call out to him one more time, teetering on the edge of a protest or a plea for him to go on. Leon bits his lips as he rubs your clit slowly, stimulating you before he rains chaste kisses on your face. A kiss on your forehead, a kiss on your cheek, on your cute nose, and a peck on your lips, because you're his baby. He treats you like a ceramic décor, because your precious and fragile.

"Use your words, bunny."

He responds as he slowly feels your cotton panties dampen underneath his fingers, your clit swollen with need and he feels you heating up.

"Lovey, I'm wet…"

You whine again as you squirm beneath him, your grip on the handle of the box tightens up as your free hand claws the leather seat.

"Want me to help you, bunny?"

He coos as he uses his index fingers to tease your clothed pussy, rubbing it up and down the slit as your insides flutter.

"Uh-huh, please lovey."

A satisfied grin eases on his face before he eases his fingers off of which earns him a sad whimper from you and confused look before he shakes his head.

"Suck."

He orders, bringing in his digits to your mouth which you happily oblige to. He grunts as you wet his fingers with an experimental lick, you could taste yourself from his fingertips before your mouth covers his index and middle finger, sucking on it like a lollipop.

The sight sending electricity straight down to Leon's dick as he pulls his fingers out, giving your lips a short kiss ass your reward before his fingers find their way on your inner thighs again, tugging your panties to the side as your pussy kisses his wet fingers.

Leon being the tease that he is, traces your slit, up and down while his thumb presses on your clit as you instinctively spread your legs more to give him room.

"Lovey, don't tease!"

You whine in his ear once more and he chuckles. Two of his thick fingers plunge down your pussy with an embarrassing squelch as you gasp and Leon chuckles.

"She's speaking to me bunny."

He hums happily as his free hand move from your face to your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread as it should as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

"Lovey…"

You moan, your one eye closes as you watch his hands move, looking down at his busy hands as your slippery pussy gives him enough leverage to slide in and out easily, while his thumb rub on your swollen nub.

"Yeah, bunny? You like that? Can fill you up right, yeah?"

He speaks to you, but you're too dazed to respond as your walls clench around him and he groans. Tipping his head forward to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as you make an "mph" sound as your lips crashes with his. You tilt your head to allow him to deepen the kiss as he slips his tongue inside, tasting your sweet mouth.

 "Ah—ah—" You moan as you part, his fingers not letting up. "You like this?" He whispers in your ear, his husky voice making your toes curl.  "Getting you off after school with my fingers?"  

"Ahh!" You moaned, shoving your hips against his pumping fingers. While his other hand skillfully unbuttons your cardigan's sole closed button before tugging your dress and bra together to reveal your breasts, before proceeding to licking on your nipple. "You're loving this, aren't you?" He rasps, spreading his fingers and pressing his thumb harder on her clit. "Being talked to like this? It gets you off even more, doesn't it, bunny?" He teases you before proceeding to hunch over to suck on your nipples, with his fingers just knuckle deep inside your pussy as your legs lock around his waist, the heels on your sandals digging on his back but he couldn't care less. Your sweet, sweet sounds as he gets you off, your luscious legs around him. God, he could cum from that alone. "Come on, bunny. Talk to your lovey." He teases again, a shit-eating grin on his face as he curls his fingers on that one sweet spot as you throw your head back and your walls clench his fingers in a vice grip. "Fuck, bunny. Can feel you squeezing tight. You're close, bunny?"

He asks but you only respond with a breathless moan as you tremble. He scissors his fingers inside you, alternating between spreading your pussy and curling his fingers and it drives you crazy. He leaves a bite mark around your nipples before he straightens his back to look at your disheveled form. Smirking at the fact that your cardi has slipped off your shoulders and your breasts heaving with your mini dress hiked to your waist.

Looking proud of himself, he captures your lips in a deep kiss as his fingers pump harder, you could hear the salacious squelching at how wet your pussy is.

"Come on bunny, cum for me. Show how much your lovey makes you feel good."

He grunts as his hands grip your cheeks, forehead resting on yours as you tighten up and your body tenses before cumming around his deft fingers with your lips parted in a silent scream.

He slowly halts his fingers, smirking as he brings it to his lips to taste you while you gather yourself. Panting and looking dazed at your older boyfriend who now laps at his fingers coated in your essence like a cat as he groans.

"Did I make you feel good, bunny?"

You nod weakly as your head rests on his chest. He only chuckles. He fixes you up. Tugging down your mini dress and fixing your upper half, buttoning up your cardi again.

"Wanna get lunch now, bunny?"

You look up at him as you slowly gather enough coherence to find that somehow in the middle of your indecency with Leon, the box of pastries had slipped from your fingers and is now a mess on the grass, decorating it with fresh fruit and whipped cream as your face falls and you look up at Leon who now sports a look of… guilt? On his face.

"Leon. Kennedy."

Your voice is dangerously low as you narrow your eyes at him.

"This is your fault!"

You exclaim with a pout as you tug on his leather jacket.

"I was looking forward to eating those! What a waste of food and money! Oh god, I feel so bad!"

Leon soothes you as he smoothens your hair with his hands and he kisses your forehead.

The good thing about being thirty-six and with a shit ton of disposable income is that he can buy you all that you want, it's what he intends to for his sweet, sweet bunny.

[lonely-cowboy]

beautifully human

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after noticing the way connor looks at other androids, you worry that you may never have a chance with him. but what you don't know is that he has only ever had eyes for you.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: insecure reader, mentions of death (they literally talk about dying in an elevator) (spoiler alert: it doesn't happen), probably ooc connor, west coast dialect went a little too hard in the dialogue, some very specific physical descriptions that i also tried to keep as general as possible? you'll see what i mean ig

author's note: glad to report that this account is lowkey helping me get over my writer's block, so that's amazing for me. anyway. as usual, feel free to leave any critiques on how i can improve my writing, characterization, etc.! :)

masterlist ⟡ requests

You hated that your investigation brought you to the Eden Club. You didn’t necessarily hate the Eden Club or its workers, but you hated that you had to go with Connor and Hank. It would’ve been embarrassing enough to go with just Hank, but adding Connor to the mix made you want to collapse to the ground and never move again. But you were a professional, so if you had to go with Connor and Hank then you could suck it up for a night. Hopefully.

The moment you stepped inside the club, you were filled with unease. Your stomach churned and your shoulders scrunched up high as if you were trying to hide from the world. To handle your discomfort, you turned cold and distant, observing everything and everyone with an icy glare. You trailed behind Hank and Connor as you scanned your surroundings, doing your very best to look at everything but Connor.

You couldn’t look at Connor in this place without being filled with a displaced sense of anger. You couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at these androids with infatuation or desire. Did he find them beautiful? Did he want them in the same way you wanted him? You knew they were stupid thoughts, but you couldn’t control them. Somehow, Connor had weaseled his way into your heart and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried.

Distracted by your foggy mind, you almost bumped right into Connor when he stopped to admire a Traci, his soft gaze exploring her body through the glass barrier. You watched as the Traci smiled gently at him, her hand reaching forward to touch the glass like she was trying to caress his cheek. Connor didn’t move to reciprocate her action, but he still appeared to be in awe. It only made your scowl deepen.

You hated that you were consumed by jealousy because you knew– deep down– that it stemmed from insecurity. This Traci was made to be beautiful. She was made to be desired and worshipped. In her limited clothing, there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her body was the epitome of perfect with its soft curves and smooth skin. She was a perfect balance of sweet and charismatic. She was everything that you assumed a man wanted, and androids were no exception. From the way Connor looked at her, you were sure she was everything he wanted too. 

You sighed in frustration before marching away as Hank called to Connor. You refused to let your jealousy– or anything you felt for Connor– get in the way of your investigation. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was still drawn to him.

Maybe you had been too hopeful, but you really had thought that maybe– just maybe– Connor had felt something for you. Apparently, you were just far more delusional than you thought.

While Hank discussed the crime scene with Officer Miller, you stood to the side looking uncharacteristically cold. With your arms folded over your chest and a hard, almost bored look in your eye, it was clear that you weren’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. You assumed that would be obvious to everyone, androids included. And it seemed that it had been obvious, but that certainly didn’t stop Connor.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Connor watching you with a confused glint. His LED flashed yellow as he analyzed your body language, working to only make your blood boil. You knew there was no reason to be angry with him, so why did your anger persist? Why did you feel so unreasonably jealous? He was just a man, after all, nothing more.

Connor approached you with his hands clasped behind his back, standing beside you and following your cold gaze. He was silent for a moment, pleased to simply be in your presence even when you were acting so stony.

“You’re unusually quiet, Detective,” Connor observed. “This is not within your typical behavioral patterns. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” you answered dismissively. “Don’t you have a body to analyze?”

Connor paused again, pursing his lips in a way that was so oddly human. In a gentle tone, he said, “Well… yes. But that’s usually something we do together.”

“Why?” you hissed, feeling suddenly riled now that Connor was talking to you. Why was he giving you this attention? Why was he acting like he cared about you? You knew he didn’t. At least, your clouded mind let you think he didn’t. “It’s not like you need my help. You can do everything on your own, I’m useless to you.”

Connor turned his body towards you fully, a deep crease settling between his brows. His LED continued to circle yellow as he studied you once again. That made you roll your eyes which seemed to be enough of a hint for Connor. With his LED still glowing yellow, he turned away without another word, allowing you to resume your wallowing in misery. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were still fuming as Hank drove you home. With Connor in the front seat, you were stuck in the back, glaring daggers into his back. How had such a clueless android managed to lure you in and make you jealous purely because he wasn’t interested in you?

As Connor jabbered on about something or other, you stared out the car window absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but imagine the Traci on the other side of the window, reaching out and smiling that perfect smile that made you never want to smile again.

You glanced at Connor as he fell silent. He turned to look out the window, making you cringe at the idea that he truly was thinking of the Traci. But you failed to notice his eyes transfixed on you through the side mirror, his gaze gentle and curious as he admired your stubborn look. He stared at you dreamily the rest of the car ride. 

When you finally reached your apartment building, Hank had barely stopped the car before you were clambering out and slamming the door behind you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grumbled, having enough decency to give Hank a small wave. 

As you trudged towards your apartment building, you froze at the sound of another car door opening and closing. You cursed under your breath, hesitant to turn for fear of whom you might find. As you glanced over your shoulder, you cursed again as your fear came true. Connor approached you with long strides, leaving behind a very confused-looking Hank.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Connor offered innocently. 

You stared at him blankly and muttered, “Connor, my building is right here. I just need to go up a few floors. I know how to use an elevator, I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

You turned and continued towards your building, not surprised when you heard Connor follow.

“The chances of an elevator-related death are one in 10.5 million,” Connor continued in that matter-of-fact tone that you usually found so endearing. 

When Connor didn’t elaborate, you stopped and turned to him again with a raised brow. You waited for more, but it still didn’t come. Connor just stared at you pleasantly, drinking in your charmingly confused face.

“Okay…,” you said. “So like I said, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But the chance of it happening is still possible, so it’s best if I escort you,” Connor continued. His grin widened as you rolled your eyes in acceptance. As an afterthought, he added, “Just in case.” 

In silence, the two of you made your way up the elevator (where you did not, in fact, die) and to your apartment. You stood outside the door and turned to Connor, ready to send him away in the hopes that if you couldn’t see him then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by images of him and that Traci. But you knew that wasn’t the case because even when he was long gone you would still think about how you couldn’t be enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for such an angelic being like him, not when other beautifully crafted androids existed.

“May I come in?” Connor inquired before you could even open your mouth.

No.

You wanted to say no so desperately. You wanted him to leave. You wanted to bury yourself under your bed sheets and never see him again.

But he was still your friend, and you were still a decent enough person. It would be rude to reject him.

“Sure,” you replied softly, opening the door to allow the two of you in.

The moment you closed the door, Connor was already asking questions that you were not at all prepared for.

“You were upset today,” he noted. “Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“I… what?” you stammered. “Since when are you a therapist android?”

“I’m not a therapist android, but as your companion, I care about your well-being,” Connor answered far too casually for your liking.

Companion? Well-being?

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you mumbled without thinking.

You were stupid to think Connor wouldn’t have heard you. With his sensitive hearing, he heard you loud and clear. Your comment made him tilt his head curiously and narrow his eyes.

“Why would I not care about you?” he asked, the genuine confusion in his voice making your resolve melt. 

“That’s not… it’s just…,” you blabbered, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you struggled to find the right words. “I wouldn’t expect you to care about me the same way–”

You stopped abruptly, eyes wide as your mind finally caught up to your yapping mouth. You could not finish that sentence.

Connor’s eyes narrowed further at your sudden pause. He took a cautious step forward, then another. You knew that he had already noticed the way your heartbeat accelerated, your breath suddenly caught in your throat. “The same way… what?” he repeated, urging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” you dismissed. 

Connor murmured your name as if he were scolding a child, raising a brow as a sign of encouragement to finish.

“Well… I wouldn’t expect you to care about me… the same way… the same way I care about you,” you said, the last part coming out far too hurried. 

Maybe if you had just finished your sentence the first time you wouldn’t be in this situation. That was a perfectly normal thing to say to a friend, wasn’t it? Absolutely. Absolutely… But the way you had paused only made you look more suspicious. You knew Connor was smart enough to understand the suggestion of romantic feelings.

“How is it you feel about me?” Connor questioned.

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the same anyway,” you muttered, pushing past him to be anywhere that wasn’t near him.

Before you could get too far, Connor’s iron grip wrapped around your wrist and held you in place. You looked at him with offense, but he knew you meant nothing by it.

“It does matter, Detective,” he whispered lowly. “It matters to me.”

There was no going back now. Connor already got the hint that you cared for him more than you probably should. You might as well say it outright. That was better than being embarrassed and pretending nothing happened. Right?

“I like you, Connor,” you admitted, the words sounding childish in your mouth. “God, this is so embarrassing…”

Connor was silent for a long moment, making you wonder if he actually had figured it out. If he hadn’t… God, you would be mortified. Did he really not know, and you just willingly outed yourself to him?

You risked a peek at Connor to find him already looking at you with a small smile. His hand was still holding your wrist tightly, his skin comfortingly warm against your burning skin. The glint in his eyes made your brows furrow as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Why would you think I don’t care about you?” Connor asked, the quirk of his lips telling you that he found all of this somewhat amusing.

“I mean… yeah, I would think that you care about me. On some level. I’d assume…,” you prattled. “But as a friend, obviously. Connor, I’m not sure you understand what I mean when I say I like–”

“I understand perfectly well, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “So I’ll pose the question once again: why would you think I don’t care about you?”

The confusion was clear on your face. Tilting your head to the side, you turned your body to face Connor slightly, giving him the opportunity to lightly pull your wrist until you were completely facing him. Even when he had you standing where he wanted, he still didn’t let go of your wrist, though he loosened his grasp and held you lightly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your inner wrist soothingly. Your knees felt weak, and you were sure you were going to collapse against him at any second. His touch was so loving that you almost believed he could feel the same way.

You nearly forgot Connor had asked you a question until he gave your arm a light squeeze that snapped you back to attention. He arched both eyebrows, watching you with that humorous glint. 

“I just… Well…,” you faltered. You inhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts before you continued. “I just can’t understand how or why someone like you would be interested in someone like me when there are so many better options. Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s it. I don’t know…”

“Better options?” Connor repeated. The obvious confusion in his voice warmed your heart. It was as if he had never even considered that there could be better options.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m no android, Connor. I’m not… I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful or stunning or gorgeous. I’m not like that girl you were looking at.”

There was another long pause as Connor struggled to process your words. His LED spiraled yellow as he questioned, “What girl?”

“The Traci,” you explained in exasperation, “at the Eden Club. It looked like you were practically in love with her, and I don’t blame you. She’s the definition of perfect. Not a single flaw in sight.”

“You think you’re flawed?” Connor asked immediately. That was his biggest takeaway?

“Yes, obviously, Connor! I am! And I just find it very hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be attracted to someone as… average as me,” you snapped, sounding harsher than you intended.

Connor released your wrist, and for a moment you worried that you scared him off. But then his warm hands were holding your cheeks, his thumbs now slowly running along your cheekbones. He stepped forward until his body was pressed against yours, leaning down until his forehead was nearly touching yours. His eyes latched onto yours, and for a moment, he just held your gaze in silence. He was reveling in the sight of you, so close to him that he could feel your sweet breath against his lips.

“It seems you don’t realize how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “Perhaps I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Connor paused again, searching your eyes for any effort to argue. But you were still so stunned by his sudden proximity that you had nothing to give. When he heard no contradiction, Connor smiled and continued on.

“Maybe you don’t think you’re perfect,” he started, “but I do. Everything you see as a flaw, I see as beautiful. It makes you you. It makes you so… human. And maybe you can’t understand because of it, but there’s something so pure about being human. Just being human makes you beautiful. But you… you’re different. You’re above them all.”

There was a strangely desperate look in Connor’s eyes like he was pleading with you to understand. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes, his LED shifting from yellow to blue and back again as he tried to sift through the swarm of emotions.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is,” he whispered, his voice nearly too quiet for you to hear. “I just can’t help but notice everything about you. I love the wrinkles on your forehead when you’re confused to the point of frustration. I love when only one side of your hair is brushed because you’re too lazy to brush the other. I love when your lip bleeds because you’re biting it while you’re thinking and you don’t even notice. I love…”

Connor stopped and pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your cheeks. His LED circled red once, the worry on his face far too obvious to your keen eyes. When you didn’t say anything, Connor tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him.

Your hands quickly moved to rest over top his, holding him in place. You looked up at him with eyes full of admiration and wonder as if an angel had come and graced the earth. Maybe that’s what he was, an angel. You would believe it. With that pretty face and those sweet words, you could easily be fooled.

As you eyed Connor’s face, the corners of your lips quirked into a smile. Maybe you could be enough for him. He seemed to think so. It was that thought alone that drove you to lean forward and press the faintest of kisses to Connor’s lips. It was barely a peck, and as you pulled away, Connor leaned forward to chase after your warmth. The gesture made you laugh as you whispered against his lips.

“I love how human you are.” 

[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!

[kwanisms]

Truth Comes Out - h.jisung

➥ dom!Han × sub!Reader summary: Since discovering the stranger she hooked up with is her best friend's roommate, Y/N has been actively avoiding Han. wc: 13.1k (I'm so, so sorry lol) warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors dni!): heavy making out, fingering, handjob, marking, a LOT of dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, sugar, etc), orgasm denial (m receiving), sexting/phone sex, mutual masturbation, mutual pining (they are really desperate and whiny for each other), Han is very vocal, it’s clear Han and Y/N both like each other a lot but Y/N struggles a lot with her feelings. I think that’s all but let me know if I missed anything! a/n: back by popular demand, here is the second part to Kinkuary 17! Tbh, i had this planned when I first started writing part one. I knew I wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger and make it into three parts. I had a lot of fun outlining and writing the party scene. Let me know what you think! I love feedback and hearing your thoughts! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @kosmoreads @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife Stray Kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @beomgyusbabygirl @lovestayskzxx @flowerboykun @smhlino Tagging @songgmingii @j1s-babygirl @chai-papa @klysaibabes @lovethatchanussy @nokacchan @dramaticnobody @youremytearr @replay-by-shinee @myprwttyhan @licklix because they asked for part two on my first part. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Send an ask to be tagged in part 3. Part 1 // Part 3

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“Why can’t you come over tonight again?” Felix asked as you flipped the potato pancakes over. “Because,” you said as you glanced down at your phone lying on the counter where you could see your best friend lying on his bed, holding his phone over his head as he watched you cook.

“I have some paperwork due,” you answered simply.

“And you can’t do it another day because…?” Your best friend asked, eyebrow raising. “Because my boss changed the due date again.”

Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Your boss sucks.” You snorted in laughter. "Tell me about it."

“I miss you though,” he continued, rolling onto his side. “Aww, is this you confessing your undying love to me?” You cooed, laughing when he scowled in disgust. “Ew, fuck you,” he laughed. “Uh, no thanks,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes again.

“Now that we’re settled into the apartment, I was hoping you’d come over and meet Jisung,” Felix murmured, making your shoulders stiffen. Thankfully, Felix didn’t notice or he didn’t comment on it.

“And I will,” you answered. “I just need to power through this bullshit my boss dumped on me.” Felix nodded understandingly. “You should quit that job and come work with me,” he said suddenly, making you laugh loudly.

“Hard pass.” Felix scowled at your response.

“I’ll have you know my company is a lot better than yours,” he said sternly. You rolled your eyes. “If we worked together, nothing would ever, ever get done,” you retorted, watching as your best friend considered your response.

“Yeah,” he answered finally, nodding. “You’re right.”

The timer above your oven went off and you rushed to turn it off. “That’s time,” Felix said jokingly as you returned to him. “Dinner’s ready, that means I gotta go.” Felix pouted but sighed. “Okay, just promise that you’ll clear a day for our housewarming party,” he said as you picked up your phone. “Yeah, yeah,” you replied, waving your hand. “We’ll see.”

It hurt you to lie to your best friend but it wasn’t like you could just come out and tell him why you’ve been avoiding visiting his apartment.

Ever since you’d learned that the man you’d invited into your home, the one you met on a BDSM discord server, was his roommate, you’d been vehemently avoiding going over to Felix’s new apartment.

It was bad enough that Han was his roommate and you’d slept with him not knowing he was friends with Felix, but your best friend was trying desperately to get you and Han to meet for whatever reason.

You’d been pretty good at making up excuses not to go over but you were running out of them and you knew sooner or later you’d have to go over but you opted for later rather than sooner.

Of course, he hadn't given up inviting you over to his apartment and was adamant on introducing you to his roommate. You'd done your best to turn him down, coming up with excuse after excuse, inviting him over to your place instead.

"Come on Y/N!" Felix whined over the phone. You could almost picture him, throwing his arms around lazily and dramatically. You let out a deep sigh. "I don't know Lix," you answered, chewing on your bottom lip. "I don't really want to stay in."

"Perfect!" Felix said excitedly and you imagined him with puppy ears, eyes shining with excitement. "Cause we're going out! That new club opened up down the road from my building and the hype has died down so we shouldn't have a problem getting in!"

Suddenly you wished you said you wanted to stay home.

"Oh? Who else is going?" you asked, feigning interest. "Just us," Felix answered. "I promise!"

Hearing this made your mind up for you. "Okay, that sounds fun," you replied. "Do you want to meet there?"

"Nah. Just come here. Then we can go together. I'm the only one here. Han went out with some of his friends to another club. He has a very specific vibe," Felix explained.

Your eyebrow arched suspiciously. "Aren't your friends his?" you asked, suddenly wondering if he was lying to you.

"Not all of them," Felix explained. "He went with some of his friends from work." You felt your shoulders relax. 'Then it should be safe.'

"Okay," you finally said. "I'm in."

“Yes!” Felix said excitedly. “I promise, it’ll just be the two of us.”

Felix went on to thank you profusely, telling you to be at his place around seven-ish and you'd do a small pregame before heading down the street. You hung up and started getting ready immediately, hopping in the shower first.

After getting dressed and applying some makeup, you checked yourself over in your mirror that hung by your door. It was a simple look. A black skirt that flared out and reached halfway down your thighs paired with a white long sleeved crop top.

You'd styled your hair and paired your outfit with a black clutch wristlet and black pumps. Felix hated when you wore heels around him but this wasn't about him you decided. It was about you getting out of the house and spending time with your best friend.

The trip to Felix's building was as it usually was, a bus ride and short walk and you found yourself in the lobby, greeted by a security guard who checked your name off a list. He directed you to the guest elevator and said he would send you up.

This building was much newer than yours and much more state of the art. You couldn't even imagine how much it cost to live here. Felix had a pretty great job so you suspected Han must have a pretty damn good one as well.

Inside the elevator was unlike anything you'd seen. There were no buttons save for an emergency stop and call button. No buttons labeled for the floors. When the doors shut, the elevator started to move and you suddenly understood what the guard meant by he'd "send you up."

The ride to the 10th floor was quick and uneventful as you arrived. You checked your reflection once more before stepping off the elevator and were greeted by loud bass. One of Felix's neighbors must be having a party.

As you walked down towards the end of the hall, the bass grew louder and louder. You found the correct door and knocked softly. Felix didn't answer so you tried again, albeit a little louder this time. 'Might not be able to hear me over the neighbor's party.'

The door was thrown open and you were greeted by the loud bass and a face you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin said, smiling and wrapping you in a tight one armed hug, pulling you inside the very loud, very crowded, apartment. It took your brain a moment to register what was happening. Felix said you were going to a club.

He said it would just be you and yet here was almost every person in his life and some you didn't even recognize. Hyunjin led you further into the apartment and to the kitchen island where there was a spread unlike anything you'd ever seen at any of the parties you'd been to before.

You were going to kill Felix.

Bottles on bottles of liquor, some half empty but full ones set up behind, ready to take their place. Red cups and plastic shot glasses were stacked and ready to be used. On the dining room table was an impressive amount of food.

"What are you drinking?" Hyunjin asked over the bass as he leaned in to hear you. "Uh, I'm okay for now," you answered, shaking your head. Hyunjin shook his head. "Nonsense, I'll make you something."

Despite your protests, Hyunjin grabbed a clean cup and started mixing something while you looked around the crowded apartment.

You recognized a group of Felix's closest friends and sitting among them was your best friend, laughing at something one of his friends said. You narrowed your eyes as Hyunjin finished making your drink and handed it to you. "That's the best one I know how to make. Sorry if it's a little strong," Hyunjin said, giving you a wink.

You raised the glass to your face, sniffing to discern the ingredients but all you could smell was fruit and alcohol. You took a sip and winced slightly. "You're gonna kill me," you coughed, making Hyunjin laugh, his eyes closing. "Not kill. Just get you drunk!"

You felt his hand on your back, leading you through the party goers and over to where Felix was sitting on a black sofa next to Ryujin with Changbin on the other side, an arm draped across the back of the sofa behind Lia. As you approached, Hyunjin yelled over the music. "Look who I found standing outside!"

Everyone turned to look at the two of you, several faces lighting up as Felix's friends greeted you. Felix looked up and his smile fell at the look you threw him as you hugged Chris. "Wow, you look amazing!" Chris said, looking you over.

"Doesn't she look incredible?" He asked, turning to Seungmin who was sitting next to Ryujin. "She always looks amazing," he said as he stood up, moving past Chris to greet you with a hug. "Good to see you, Y/N," he said in your ear.

When he sat back down, your attention zeroed in on Felix as he got up quickly. "Hey," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You lied to me," you hissed, digging your knuckles into his side discreetly.

Felix winced, playing it off to anyone who noticed. "I know, I'm sorry," he replied as the group went back to their conversation, Hyunjin blending in smoothly as he took Felix's empty spot on the sofa.

"But you kept coming up with excuses to not come over!" Felix explained as you took a sip of your drink. "I've been putting off this house warming party for a week, trying to pick a day when you'd be free. I can't break in my new home without my best friend."

You glanced around nervously. "It's not like I'd be missed," you murmured. "How many people did you invite?" You looked up as Felix did the mental calculation. "I can't remember but a lot of these people were invited by Jisung," Felix explained, his face lighting up.

"Speaking of!" he said suddenly, grabbing your free hand and pulling you through the crowd. "Wait, Felix," you hissed as he dragged you away from the group and towards a room just off the main living area.

In what you assumed was the den, a table was set up for pong and the people surrounding were eagerly cheering on the players.

Your eyes darted around, landing on the one person you'd been avoiding this whole time.

He was standing at the end with the person you could only assume was his teammate. He looked just as good as the last time you saw him. He'd dressed for the occasion, donning a plain black loose fitted tee, tucked into black leather pants. He'd put on a simple silver chain necklace.

Felix dragged you over as Han picked up his drink watching his teammate and taking a sip.

Han looked up from his cup as Minho picked up one of the small white plastic balls and aimed. "You got this, Min," Han shouted over the music, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Yah, don't do that!" Minho shouted as he narrowed his eyes.

Han caught sight of Felix moving through the crowd towards him and smiled. He was accompanied by a girl but Han couldn't see her face. Perhaps this was the infamous best friend? Had she finally agreed to show up? Han turned back as Minho took the shot.

His aim was true as managed to bounce the ball in one of the three cups remaining on the opposing side. The entire crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Han laughed at the look on his opponents' faces. Yunho was shocked as Mingi begrudgingly picked up the cup and chugged the contents.

"This ain't over yet!" Yunho shouted, pointing at Han who laughed.

"Han!" He turned as he heard his name came from behind him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Felix standing behind him with the same girl attempting to hide out of sight. He smiled at his roommate before Felix spoke.

"I wanted to introduce you to my best friend!"

Han's smile widened. 'She finally made it!'

"Oh?" Han asked, trying and failing to conceal his excitement. "She's finally here?" Felix nodded, turning towards the girl behind him.

"What are you-? Stop hiding," Felix laughed as he put his arm around the girl and pulled her forward. "Y/N, this is my roommate, Han Jisung."

"Han, this is Y/N."

Han had heard so much about his roommate's best friend from the man himself and was beyond excited to finally meet her so he was expecting anyone but… you.

His eyes widened, lips parting as he felt his stomach nearly fall out of his ass. He never expected to see you, the girl he'd hooked up with and then been ghosted by, again. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that when you looked up at him with a pained expression, it made his heart sting.

It was almost as if you were sorry. Or maybe it was shame? Or perhaps even embarrassment? Han couldn't be entirely sure but one thing was certain.

He was fucked.

When your eyes met Han's you could see his thoughts moving at the speed of light. He was running through every possible scenario. Felix looked expectantly at his roommate, waiting for a response.

"Dude, you okay?" Felix asked, drawing both yours and Han's attention. Han finally snapped out of it and tore his gaze from your face. "Yeah, sorry," he said sheepishly. "Oh, isn't she a cute one," Han's pong partner said suddenly, smirking at you.

"I'd be speechless too," he added, nudging Han. "She's gorgeous." You felt your cheeks burn at the stranger's compliment. He leaned forward, holding his hand out which you took hesitantly. "I'm Minho," he announced over the music. "Y/N," you answered, shaking his hand firmly. "Y/N? God, even your name is cute."

Your cheeks burned even more at the attention Minho was giving you. You glanced at Han who was side-eyeing his friend with… 'wait is that jealousy? Is he jealous?' Felix wrapped an arm protectively around your shoulders. "Back off, Min," he warned jokingly.

"Oh?" Minho asked, grabbing his cup and downing the rest of his drink. "Is she spoken for?" he asked, smirking at Felix who shook his head. "What? No! She's my best friend. We're like siblings," Felix added. Minho's smirk softened into a smile.

"I'm just teasing. We all know you only have eyes for Momo," Minho said, making those around you snicker as Felix tried to defend himself. Minho turned his attention on you once more, leaning in. "Could you be a doll and get me a refill? Pretty please?" he asked, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear.

"Yah, Minho!" Han suddenly shouted. "She's not a server," he continued as several pairs of eyes fell on him. "Yeah, get your own drink," Felix added. Minho sighed, turning to take his cup from you. "Pause the game," he called but you snatched the cup from him.

Anything to escape Han's gaze.

"I'll get it," you said quickly, ignoring the way both Felix and Han eyed you. Minho merely smiled, reaching up to stroke your cheek. "Good girl," he said before turning back to the game.

You turned away and darted through the crowd, missing the way Felix looked impressed by both Minho's and your boldness but Han looked downright furious.

You made your way through the crowd to the kitchen and started to fix a drink for Minho, shaking off your apprehension and nerves. You felt a body lightly bump into you and looked up to see Jeongin smiling sheepishly at you.

"Innie! How are you?" you asked, smiling at him.

"I'm good," he answered as he watched you mix the drink. "Who is that for?" he asked, nodding at the cup. "Minho? I think he’s Han- Jisung's friend," you answered as you picked up the now full cup.

Jeongin's eyebrow raised as he watched you. "Oh? Didn't know you were making drinks for Minho," he teased, prompting you to pinch his arm.

"It's stuffy in there and he asked me to," you explained as you wove through the crowd, Jeongin on your heels.

Inside the den, the previous game had finished with Han and Minho winning and now facing new opponents: Felix and Changbin.

You returned to Minho who turned and smiled as you handed him his cup. "It might be a little strong," you said as he took a sip. "Jeongin distracted me," you added, throwing a playfully dirty look at the culprit who merely smiled at you.

Minho shook his head. "No, it's perfect, thank you," he answered, setting it down and sending a wink your way. Han looked from his friend to you, meeting your gaze. His expression was hard to decipher but he soon turned away to start the game.

You turned to Jeongin, talking with him as the new round started. "So, how's college?" you asked. He shrugged before answering. "Expensive, stressful, and probably going to put me in debt for the rest of my life." You laughed loudly at his reply.

"Sounds about right."

Han couldn't stop himself from glancing in your direction every time you laughed at something Jeongin said. It was clear you knew the younger man and that was probably thanks to Felix.

"Who's your friend, Innie?" A voice asked. When Han looked over, he noticed one of Jeongin's tall friends- Beomgyu was it?- had slid up to the two of you and currently had one arm resting on Jeongin's shoulder, smiling at you. "This is Y/N," Jeongin introduced.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm Beomgyu," he said, wincing as one of his friends bounced up next to him and behind you. "I'm Kai!" he said excitedly, making you laugh.

God, your laugh. Han loved it. He hadn't heard it since that day and hearing it now was like music to his ears. He wasn't lying when he had told Felix how much he missed you. Of course, Felix didn't know it was you he missed. To Felix it was Baby.

His eyes trailed over your body, remembering how it felt to have his hands on it. He remembered how you reacted to him, almost as if your body was made to fit with his. He'd thought of nothing but you since then. Whenever he needed to get off, he imagined the way you looked bent over, restrained, and at his mercy.

He'd looked at the pictures he'd taken that day over and over again. True to his promise, none of them had your face in them, something he missed greatly. He missed your eyes and the way they looked at him as he ate you out. The way your lips looked and felt.

And your tongue? God did he miss your tongue.

He'd tried to reach out, messaging you on both instagram and discord but his messages went unanswered. He didn't really question it when you disappeared from the server a few days after hooking up. You'd been interested in anonymous sex and you'd gotten that from him so your membership in the server wasn't needed. He understood that.

But when you didn't answer his direct messages, he started to wonder if maybe he'd done something wrong. Offended or hurt you in some way that you didn't speak up about. Maybe you weren't serious when you said you'd have to invite him back over.

Worse case scenario, it wasn't as good for you as it was for him.

Han was snapped out of his thoughts as the crowd on the other side of the table cheered. He looked down and saw one of the cups in front of him had a little white ball that previously wasn't there.

Looking up, he saw Felix celebrating. Han glanced at Minho who regarded him with a confused expression. Han shook his head and picked up the cup, downing the liquid inside.

As he did, his eyes shifted to the side where you were engrossed in a deep conversation with Beomgyu, Kai, Jeongin and a couple other people he vaguely knew. The coil in the pit of his stomach tightened, a sour feeling bubbling up. He recognized this feeling.

It was jealousy.

"You're so cute!" Beomgyu cooed, cupping your cheeks gently, laughing as you pushed him off playfully. "Don't tease her!" Jeongin whined, trying to shield you from his friend.

"Ooh, this is a good song!" one of Beomgyu's friends, whose name you learned was Soobin, said perking up. Another of Beomgyu's friends, Yeonjun, who had squeezed into the circle between you and Beomgyu, smiled as he looked at you.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asked, catching you off guard.

"Aww I was gonna ask her that!" Kai pouted, making Yeonjun chuckle. "I'll only keep her for a bit, Kai," he offered before turning back to you. "So how about it?" he asked, tilting his head.

Jeongin took your glass. "I'll hold this," he said with a smirk as you glanced around. "O-okay," you answered. Another one of Beomgyu's friends, Taehyun, held his hand up. "If you don't want to, it's okay. Yeonjun can be kind of…" he trailed off.

"Kind of what?" Yeonjun asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shook your head. "It's okay, Tae," you answered. "I'll dance with you," you added, looking at Yeonjun who lit up. He took your hand and led you out of the room. You were so focused on following him that you didn't notice the look on Han's face.

One dance turned into two and then three before you finally had to stop and get something to drink. You promised Kai you would dance with him after getting a new drink since Jeongin finished yours.

You were looking through the bottles, trying to find the same stuff Hyunjin had thrown together, half tempted to ask him to make it again when you felt a hand on your lower back.

You looked up from the counter to find Han standing next to you. You suddenly felt nervous in his presence as sparks erupted under your skin where the warmth of his hand was bleeding through your top.

"Hey," he said as he smiled at you. You glanced around nervously before looking back down at the counter. "Hey."

Han watched as you mixed something together, avoiding his gaze. He'd come for a fresh bottle of beer but found himself leaning against the counter while watching you work.

"Look," he finally said, breaking the awkward tension between you. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, making him freeze. You looked up at him finally, finding him already looking at you.

"For not responding to your messages," you clarified. "I've just been… off," you continued. Han shook his head, giving you a smile.

"You don't have to explain," he said, moving to stand closer. "If you wanted it to be a one time thing, that's fine. That was the deal, right?" He asked, one hand moving to rest on the small of your back. 'Is… is that what he thinks?'

"Han, I-" he cut you off before you could finish. "It's okay. We can just let it go. If you'd rather pretend it didn't happen-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "I don't want that." Han's eyes widened. "Y-you don't?" he asked softly, voice barely audible over the music. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen," you repeated.

Your eyes met, staring at each other in the middle of a party like no one else was even there. It was like you had tunnel vision and all you could see was him. Like he was the only thing that mattered.

Han's eyes dipped down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze. Your eyes did the same. It was clear what you both wanted and you would have given in if it weren't for the arm that suddenly went around your shoulders.

"There you two are!" Felix said loudly as he draped an arm over both yours and Han's shoulders. "I was wondering where my favorite girl and the best roommate I've ever had went," he added, smiling at you. It was clear he'd had a little too much to drink and was more than tipsy.

You smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," you said, holding up your cup. "I just needed a drink." Han forced a smile, clearly annoyed that Felix had interrupted the moment between the two of you. "Well, now that you've got it, come join us," Felix said, giving you a slight shake.

Han wanted so desperately to ask Felix to give the two of you a second but he didn't want to draw attention or arouse suspicion so he begrudgingly followed along as Felix led you away from the drink station and into a circle around the sofa.

He watched as Felix pulled you down to sit between him and Jeongin, leaving Han to sit across from you in an empty space on the ottoman next to Chris who had Sana perched on his lap. "What's this about?" Changbin asked from his spot between Lia and Seungmin. "You summoned us here."

Felix shook his head. "I’m just the messenger," he answered. "You can ask them why," he added, nodding at Chris and Sana. "Well, mainly me," Sana said, holding up her hand. "I thought we could throw it back and play a classic party game," she explained.

"I swear to god," Yeonjun groaned as he leaned on the couch behind you. "If this is Truth or Dare, I'm leaving right now." Momo, who was sitting next to Chris and Sana chimed in. "It is Truth or Dare," she started.

"But with a twist."

Han tried to listen to Momo as she spoke but his eyes were focused on you and the way Yeonjun loomed over your figure. You didn't seem to mind, even when he briefly massaged your shoulders while Momo explained the rules.

"It's simple. On your turn, you chose either truth or dare," Momo explained, Sana chiming in halfway through. "And if you don't want to do the one you pick, you have to drink," she added. "So everyone playing needs drinks." There was a mild scramble as those without drinks got up to get refills. "What if you aren't playing?" Jeongin asked, raising his hand.

"Then get out of the circle," Sana said with a shrug. Jeongin apologized and got up, leaving the space beside you empty. Han was tempted to take it but he wasn't fast enough and someone else dropped onto the sofa beside you.

"I don't think we've met," the man who had just dropped into the seat next to you said, drawing your attention. Han didn't know him personally, only that he was friends with both Yeonjun and Changbin. "I'm Wooyoung." The man, Wooyoung, held his hand out.

A polite smile crossed your face as you took his hand. "Y/N," you replied shortly. Yeonjun behind you flicked Wooyoung's forehead. "Leave her alone, Woo. She's not going home with you," he saw in an annoyed tone. Wooyoung held his hand over his forehead and whined. "Well, she might have if you hadn't interjected!"

You smiled politely again at Wooyoung. "No," you replied, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have." Everyone around you burst into laughter and Wooyoung grumbled, whining under his breath until Yeonjun kicked him out of the spot and took it from him as the rest of the players settled down with their drinks.

Han recognized San as Wooyoung moved to sit beside him, Yeosang watching from outside the circle with Jongho. Yeosang was one of his department leads, Jongho working with them as well.

His attention was drawn back to the circle as the coffee table was cleared and used as the pedestal for the bottle and Momo started the game. She spun the bottle, waiting until it stopped landing on…

“Lee Chan!” She said, pointing to the man sitting to the left of Yunho. “Uh, present,” he said, a slight question in his tone. “Truth or dare?” Momo asked, waiting patiently for him to respond.

“Uh, sorry, I’m pretty a boring guy. Truth.”

Han zoned out as Momo asked her question, his eyes landing on you sitting wedged between Felix and Yeonjun, the latter who was leaning in, whispering in your ear. You giggled as he spoke before looking mildly scandalized and slapping his arm while he laughed.

It made the ugly beast in his chest surface, growling angrily.

The game quickly progressed into a game of daring people to kiss each other before the bottle landed on Felix, having been spun by Yeonjun. "Dare," Felix said, sitting forward to look around you at Yeonjun. "Dare you say?"

"Yeah, and make it a good one," Felix answered. "None of this kissing shit. That's so cliché." Several people shouted in protest, quieted only by Yeonjun holding his hand up. "Okay," he said, scooting forward to sit on the edge of his seat.

"Your dare comes with a choice. You have to give a lap dance," Yeonjun began, smirking devilishly as the circle laughed and whooped. Yeonjun held his hand up. "I haven't finished!"

The group fell silent waiting for the rest of the dare.

"You have to give a lap dance to either your roommate," he continued, all eyes turning to Han who chuckled nervously. "Or," Yeonjun said, turning to look at Felix. "Your best friend."

Han felt his throat go dry as all eyes fell on you sitting beside Felix who was contemplating his choices.

"I guess I'll pick Y/N," Felix said, wincing when you slapped his arm. "I wouldn't be able to look Han in the face afterwards if I picked him," he explained as you glared at him angrily.

One of their dining chairs appeared and was placed in the circle as the coffee table was pushed aside. Felix got to his feet and held out his hand for you to take. Your face flushed as you reluctantly took his hand, letting him pull you up and lead you over to the chair.

You took the seat, looking around nervously as Yeonjun held onto your drink, the latter smirking as the show started. Han found himself looking away as the others laughed, some covering their eyes and a few of the girls screaming.

Luckily Felix didn't draw it out too long, laughing as he pulled you up from the chair and pulled you into a hug while you hid your face in your hands.

Felix whispered in your ear as he hugged you, no doubt apologizing for what he just put you through. As the two of you sat back down, the bottle was spun by Ryujin on the other side of Yeonjun.

Han watched as it spun around, slowing before it stopped completely, the opening of the bottle facing away from Han. He looked up to see it had landed on you instead. You were unable to hide your surprise.

“Y/N! Finally,” Ryujin said excitedly as she waited for you to choose. Your response was swift, picking Truth after that last Dare had clearly traumatized you.

Ryujin looked deep in thought as she chose her question carefully.

"Hmmm, okay!” She clapped her hands together before pointing at you with both of her hands. “Have you ever slept with anyone in the circle?"

The question caught the attention of everyone in the group, especially Han. He wondered at that moment if you'd slept with any of Felix's friends before and if you had, did Felix know?

Han half expected you to take a drink from your cup but was surprised when you answered instead with a nod. The uproar was almost instantaneous, several people demanding to know who.

Ryujin nodded, a mischievous look on her face. "Of course, of course,” she said while nodding. “We should have expected you and Felix to have hooked up at some point," she said nonchalantly with a shrug.

At her accusation, you and Felix shook your heads quickly, both protesting in unison. "Absolutely not!" You said, sounding mortified. Felix was just as adamant.

"No really, we've never had sex. The only sleeping we do together is taking naps," he explained. You nodded profusely in agreement. Ryujin turned to look at you. “If it wasn’t Felix, then who was it?” She asked. Han noticed how you froze at the question.

You chuckled nervously and passed your drink to Yeonjun. "Uhh… I need to use the bathroom," you said, getting to your feet, ignoring the question entirely.

Once you disappeared, Han heard Sana speak.

"You're for real? You've really never slept with Y/N?" She asked. Han turned to look at Felix who shook his head again. "Really. She's my best friend. I don't see her that way," he answered. Yeonjun suddenly spoke up, turning to look at Felix.

"I certainly see her that way," he said, ignoring the whistles around him. "Do you care if I-" Han had heard enough.

"Wait, where are you going?" Momo asked as he got to his feet. "Bathroom," he grumbled. "Y/N's in there," Sana reminded him.

"I have an en-suite," he simply said as he set his beer on the end table and walked away from the group. He wound through the crowd, making his way through the apartment. It was true, he did have an en-suite bathroom but that's not where he was going.

The bass was muffled surprisingly well with the bathroom door shut as you washed your hands under the sink. Glancing up at your reflection, you sighed, taking in your tired eyes.

'Maybe I should go home… I think I've been here long enough. Surely Felix doesn't need me here now.'

Your internal monologue was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Jumping slightly, you sighed and called out. "Hang on!" You finished rinsing the soap off your hands and shut the water off, drying your hands with the towel as another series of knocks sounded, this time much louder than before. 'Fucking impatient, drunk people.'

You unlocked the door and were in the process of opening it when the door was forced open and shut quickly, leaving you face to face with…

"Han?" you asked as he locked the door.

He only looked at you for a second before he closed the distance between you, hands grabbing your hips as his lips crashed against yours, guiding you back to the sink counter. Your hands grabbed his shirt, holding on as he pushed you against the counter.

"Fuck, I missed you," he growled, grinding against you as his lips trailed down your neck. "H-Han," you whispered in a shaky breath.

"We can't. Not here," you mumbled as his lips moved back up, stopping by your ear. Han didn't seem to hear you. Or he didn't care.

"You're all I've been able to think about," he continued, kissing along your jaw as his hands wandered, one moving to the small of your back, the other sliding down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

"Han," you warned, your voice wavering as his lips brushed over your pulse point.

"I just want to turn you around and bury myself inside you."

You let out a soft moan as Han's hand moved up your thigh, sneaking under your skirt and finding your lace covered clit easily. His fingers pushed the fabric of your panties against you and you knew he could feel the wetness that seeped through the material.

"Shit," he groaned, moving both hands to push you up to sit on the counter, fingers tracing over your slit. "You're so wet."

Your hands moved, one tangling in his hair as you pulled him to meet your lips in a searing kiss, his thumb pulling your panties aside and fingers seeking your wet heat, sinking two fingers inside your warm cunt with a sigh. You, on the other hand, were already a writhing mess as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

It was slow at first, but soon he was moving at a steady pace, curling his fingers up against the soft spongy spot inside you. "H-Han," you moaned, your free hand moving to undo his pants, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear.

Your fingers wrapped around his hardened length, making him gasp out a moan, eyes fluttering shut as you started to pump your hand along his cock in time with the thrust of his fingers. "Oh fuck, baby," he moaned. "You're gonna kill me."

Your lips found his again in a sloppy kiss as you both tried to get the other off desperately. "Shit. You're so wet and tight. Just like last time," Han whispered, brow furrowing as your hand squeezed him firmly. "Bet you'd take my cock just as well, too."

Your cheeks burned, face flushing as he spoke. "Would you like that, baby?" Han asked softly. "You want me to bend you over the sink and fuck you where everyone could overhear?"

You moaned a little louder, walls clenching around his fingers as you spread your legs a little wider. You felt his thumb drag over your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. "Hannie," you mewled as his fingers pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "So close."

Han moaned, hips bucking into your hand as you lazily stroked him. "You gonna cum for me, baby girl?" he cooed. "Gonna be my good little girl and cum for me?"

You whined in response, knees and thighs squeezing his waist as your orgasm came rolling over you. "That's it," Han whispered, fucking you through your high with his fingers as you continued to jerk him off.

"Keep going, baby. You're doing so good," Han whispered, his voice taking on a much more breathless and whiny tone.

A loud knock at the door pulled you both out of your bubble and you suddenly remembered you were in the middle of a housewarming party at your best friend's apartment.

And here you were, hooking up with his roommate again.

Had you not learned your lesson?

"Sorry," you called out trying to keep your voice stead even though Han's fingers were still stuffed inside your pussy. "I might be a minute. Not feeling well." A shuffling outside the door indicated whoever it was had left. "We're gonna get caught," you hissed at Han, pulling your hand from his underwear and pushing his hand away from your sex before you hopped off the counter.

Han's hands turned you to face the mirror, grabbing your hips and grinding against your ass. "We shouldn't be doing this," you moaned as his hands moved, sliding up to grope your chest over your shirt as he continued to grind his erection into your ass, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Please baby," he whispered.

His hands moved back down to your hips, holding you still as he rutted against you, lips continuing to kiss your neck, teeth grazing your skin. You braced yourself against the sink, fully ready to let Han take you from behind when there was a loud thump against the bathroom door. "Fuck," you hissed. "We can't do this."

You turned around, Han catching you and taking your lips in a breathtaking kiss, one hand holding your hip, the other cupping your cheek tenderly. "My room is just down the hall," he mumbled but you shook your head. "I'm sorry," you answered. "S'too risky."

Han's lips pressed against yours repeatedly, small pleas slipping out between as he begged you.

"Please" kiss. "Baby. I'll be quick" kiss. "I promise" kiss. "Please baby" kiss. "Please?"

You shook your head again. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, pushing him back. Han pulled you closer, kissing you again. "Please stay, Y/N," he murmured. "Don't go." You kept shaking your head.

"I can't... We can't… I-I have to go."

Deciding to act before he could stop you, you darted for the door, unlocking and exiting, leaving Han in the bathroom. You held back tears as you rushed through the apartment, heading for the door but nearly fell back when you ran straight into someone.

Looking up, you were greeted by the smile of your best friend, a smile that dropped almost instantly as he noticed your state. "Whoa, what happened?" he asked, looking you over. You gave him a weak smile. "I'm just not feeling well," you answered.

Felix immediately launched into concerned mode, feeling your forehead and cheeks. "You want me to get you some medicine?" he asked as he guided you to the kitchen to get some water. You shook your head. "It's okay. I think I just want to go home."

Felix shook his head. "Nonsense," he scoffed. "You can just sleep in my bed with me-," he began but you cut him off. "No offense, Lix, but I really just want to go home." His face fell a little but he seemed to understand. He loved his bed very much and knew how much you loved yours.

"Then let me walk you," he offered but you shook your head again. "You're too drunk," you countered. "I'll be fine. I'll text you the moment I get home."

You saw, over his shoulder, Han emerge from the hallway and you hastily added an "I promise."

Felix didn't have the opportunity to respond as you kissed his cheek and darted for the front door, yanking it open and stepping out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind you, it was much easier to breathe. You were grateful the elevator was already on the same floor as you stepped onto the lift and rode it down to the lobby.

You were able to make it from the lobby to your bus stop and from the bus station to your apartment in what seemed like record time.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, you sent Felix a text that you got home safely as you started to undress. After getting into your pajamas, you noticed you had some messages from discord. They were all from Han, apologizing and pleading with you to come back.

It was too late now. You were at home and in bed.

Turning your phone on Do Not Disturb, you flipped it screen down and rolled over on your bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You'd given in to your stupid temptation and really screwed up but one question remained: how much did you screw up?

It had been a couple days since the party and the incident between you and Han in the bathroom and suffice it to say, you could not get him out of your mind.

The way his fingers felt as they moved in and out of you, his lips against yours and how he nipped and sucked on your skin, leaving behind the smallest of marks you had to cover with makeup.

You could vividly remember how he sounded as he begged you, how his hips moved, bucking into your touch to chase his own high. You felt absolutely awful for leaving him so close to orgasm but you panicked. You were in the bathroom in the middle of a party.

You were terrified that someone was bound to notice that you left the bathroom and then Han left shortly after and word would get back to Felix but he never said anything. Maybe you were okay.

Han had texted you a handful of times that night, alternating between apologizing and begging you to let him come see you.

You left them unanswered because you knew it would be a mistake. You had both been drinking and you chalked your encounter up to that reason. You were drinking and alcohol makes you horny.

That's all there was to it. It had to be.

You heard your phone buzz in your desk drawer and chose to ignore it. You had approximately half an hour left at work before you could clock out and return home for the weekend and hide in your apartment.

You didn't often go into the office as your job was more remote work than anything but occasionally you were required to come in for meetings with potential clients and for quarterly meetings.

You glanced at the clock on your desk, sitting next to the framed photo you had of you and Felix during your last trip to Australia. His smiling face reminded you of why you couldn't own up and tell him that you'd slept with his roommate.

It wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something like this.

[flashback to a few years back]

You woke up, blinking away the sleep as you peered around your surroundings and took in where you were. It was a bedroom you didn't recognize so you weren't sure whose it was.

As you attempted to roll over, you were stopped by a firm chest and realized an arm was draped over your waist. A rather muscular arm.

You glanced back and saw you were in bed with… Changbin.

Your heart raced as you tried to remember the events of the party from last night. It was mostly a haze but you suddenly remembered Felix joining a game of pong with some of his friends and you were left to your own devices and someone came up and asked why you weren't dancing.

That wasn't the first time you'd met Changbin but it was the first time you danced with him. As the night went on and you downed more drinks than you could keep track of, you could vaguely remember how simple conversation turned into more.

Changbin started whispering dirty things in your ear in an attempt to make you blush and fluster you but he didn't imagine you to say yes and agree to go back up to his room with him. And to be quite frank, neither did you.

It was still all a blur but you did remember kissing, stumbling, and pulling at each other's clothes. You remembered his head between your thighs, giving you some of the best head you'd ever had in your life and then the way he held you in place as he fucked you against the mattress. It was some of the best sex you'd had in college but the next morning you were horrified by what you'd done.

You'd slept with one of Felix's friends. You'd gotten stupid drunk and slept with Changbin. The gravity of the situation hit you the morning after as you tried to shimmy out from under Changbin's strong hold on you and slide out of his bed.

He grumbled sleepily as you managed to pull yourself free and started looking for your clothes from the night before. You found your panties and pulled them on before grabbing your jeans and pulling them on and started searching for your shirt, finding it clear over by the door.

You had just pulled it on when you heard Changbin mumble.

"Where you going?"

You looked up at him, he was propped up on his elbow, looking at you from under a mop of fluffy, wavy dark hair with sleepy eyes. His face was slightly puffy from sleeping and a small pout was on his lips. "Oh, I was just…" you trailed off as he sat up fully.

"Trying to sneak out?" He asked with a smirk. "Sorry," you murmured. Changbin shook his head, falling back onto the bed, the covers bunched at his waist. "I was hoping we could go for round two this morning," he said softly as he stretched his arms over his head. You grimaced at the soft tone in his voice.

He was a right contrast from last night, whispering dirty things in your ear as his hand wandered between your thighs and over your ass. "I don't know," you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Changbin rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand. "You weren't this shy last night," he noted.

He was right. As the events of the night prior came back, you could remember flirting back and even whispering some of the dirty thoughts you had as well. You were already screwed, having slept with Changbin once. What was one more round?

[present time]

Felix hadn't been entirely upset with you sleeping with Changbin in college. He'd just ask that you not do it again as he laughed and waved off your concern. And yet, here you were. Doing it again.

Granted, it wasn't like you knew Han was his friend and roommate before sleeping together. You'd never met the guy before. So Felix couldn't fault you entirely for the way things happened.

Could he?

You sighed again, eyes still on the photo. It was one of your favorite memories, spending most of the day at one of the many beaches in Sydney after meeting up with Felix’s sisters.

The buzzing of your phone pulled your attention back to your work and you shook your head as if trying to shake the thoughts from your head. You had work in front of you to finish. You couldn’t afford to daydream about the past.

Han sighed, staring at his phone screen, the most recent messages he sent you staring back at him pathetically. ‘Man, you really fucked this up, didn’t you?’

He hadn’t planned on coming to the bathroom during the party. He didn’t know what came over him but the moment you opened the door, he acted before his brain could catch up.

His body acted on instinct alone, pushing all rational thought from his mind. He wanted you so bad and the alcohol wasn’t helping either. Neither did the short skirt you wore that was so easy to slip his hand under.

He’d been fully ready to bend you over the sink and take you right there, fueled by his lust for you and the drinks he’d had. That had to be it, right?

And as quickly as it started, it ended. He never did find out who was banging on the door. If he had, he was sure he would have given them a piece of his mind.

When he’d managed to compose himself and exit the bathroom, he didn’t see anyone waiting to use the bathroom and he cursed whoever interrupted. By the time he managed to squeeze through the crowd back into the living area, he saw you heading for the door but wasn’t fast enough to catch you.

Even weaving through the crowd and slipping out into the hall proved to be fruitless, the elevator doors shut before he managed to reach them and just like that, you were gone.

He returned to the party, having half a mind to head to your place but he didn’t want to push any boundaries. He resorted to texting you, begging you to come back or offering to go to you to finish what you both started.

His texts went unanswered and he wondered if he’d crossed a line with you but he remembered that your hand was in his pants. You had to have wanted it as much as he did. If that was true, then why were you avoiding him?

Han groaned, flipping his phone face down as Felix entered the apartment through the front door. His roommate eyed him curiously, noticing the phone on the kitchen island that Han currently sat at.

“Everything alright?” Felix asked as he slipped his shoes off and headed into the kitchen, setting the black plastic bag he carried on the counter. Han lifted his head from his arms and gave his roommate a guarded look.

“You remember that girl I hooked up with a while ago?” He asked. ‘Your best friend.’

Felix nodded. “The one who let you restrain her?” Felix asked, opening the plastic bag and pulling out the items he’d picked up from the store on his way home. Han nodded as he watched Felix. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Is she still ignoring your messages?” Felix asked, turning to look at him. Han nodded again, silently as he picked at the peeling black polish on his nails. “I’m sorry man,” Felix said with a sigh as he put the beef he’d purchased away.

“I know you said you really liked her.”

Han nodded again. “I do really like her,” he murmured as Felix put the plastic bag away to recycle. “Even when she doesn’t answer your messages?” He asked, leaning on the counter.

Han nodded yet again. “Even then, I still really like her.”

Felix let out another deep sigh, letting his head drop before he gathered his thoughts and stood up straight. “Then call her.”

Han’s gaze snapped up to meet his roommates. “Or better yet,” Felix said with a smirk. “You know where she lives. Go see her.” Han shook his head furiously. “No. I think that would cross a line. Especially if she doesn’t want to see me.”

Felix frowned as Han continued picking at his nails. “Then just call her. The worst she can do is not pick up.” Han sighed, still looking dejected. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Felix stared at his roommate, unsure of how to help him.

They had gotten pretty close before moving in together so Felix clearly cared about him. He’d hoped that meeting you would make Han forget about the ghost girl and focus instead on you. That was his entire reason for introducing the two of you in the first place.

Felix turned and moved to the pantry, opening the door and stepping inside to find the one thing he knew might cheer his friend up. He found the box on a shelf in the back, hiding behind the cans of soup and grabbed it.

He returned to the kitchen, setting the box down on the counter with a loud thud and smiled at Han as he looked up. Han’s eyes widened comically as he looked at the box and back up at Felix a small smile on his face.

Brownies.

Felix did most of the work. Normally he’d make brownies from scratch but he didn’t have all the ingredients he needed and this was an emergency. Han mostly watched as Felix mixed the batter together and only helped when it was time to pour and put the pan in the oven. He also helped clean up by licking the cake spatula while Felix washed the bowl.

“Can I ask you something?” Felix asked as he dried the bowl while Han sat on the kitchen island reading the tub of icing. Han looked up at him. “Hmm?” He hummed in response as Felix put the now dry mixing bowl away and turned to face him.

“What do you think of Y/N?” Felix watched as Han’s cheeks turned pink and he suspected his hunch was right. “Why do you ask?” Han asked, turning his focus back to the tub of chocolate icing.

Felix shrugged, moving to take the tub from him. “I mean, you two seemed to get along at the party and I’ve been trying to introduce the two of you for a while now,” he answered, setting the icing on the counter and looking up at Han.

Despite the pink in his cheeks, Han shrugged. “She seems cool. To be honest, we didn’t get to talk much,” he answered. “Minho was all over her for getting him that drink and then she was with Jeongin and his friends after that.”

There was something in Han’s voice. Something Felix had a hard time deciphering but it sounded an awful lot like jealousy. “Y/N and Jeongin are just friends,” Felix said as he shifted his weight to his other foot, leaning against the counter next to Han. “Oh? Well, she was also pretty cozy with Yeonjun.” Han pouted.

Felix nodded, fighting the urge to smile. ‘Yep. That’s jealousy.’

“Yeah. Yeonjun was kind of all over her but I don’t think there’s much there,” Felix replied. “Yeonjun isn’t exactly Y/N’s type.” Han glanced at Felix, quiet for a moment before asking. “What’s her type?”

Felix let the smile spread this time as he looked at his friend. “Why? Are you interested?” He asked.

The way Han sputtered and vehemently denied it told Felix everything he needed to know. Han liked you and he was more determined than ever to hook the two of you up. Whatever it took.

The clock read half past five when you finally left the office, purse in hand as you exited the elevator into the lobby. You were extremely grateful you wouldn’t have to return to the office again for a while and would be able to do the rest of your work from the comfort of your own home.

The trip home was uneventful, taking the bus to the train station and riding that to your stop. You often wished you could afford an apartment in one of those nice high rises near your job but it was just too expensive.

Upon arriving home, you removed your shoes, cursing as you put them away, glad to not have to wear those again for a while. You decided on the way home to stop and grab something to eat rather than make something.

Going into the office was much more taxing than you remembered.

Once changing out of your uncomfortable office attire, you settled on your couch with your food, a glass of wine, and turned on your tv to watch the latest episode of the show you were currently obsessed with.

You wondered if Felix was caught up and looked around for your phone before remembering you left it in your purse. Grumbling, you got up and set your food on the coffee table, walking over to where you left your purse on the counter to reach inside and grab your phone before returning to your seat.

As you unlocked the screen, your eyes fell on the latest notification from Han.

Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You quickly pulled up his messages and scrolled up to read the ones he’d send since the party.

Hanji: please don’t shut me out again Y/N Hanji: i had no idea you were Felix’s best friend Hanji: did you know? Hanji: i mean, you must have Hanji: that’s why youve been avoiding me? Hanji: right? That has to be why Hanji: unless i did something wrong? Hanji: if i did i’m really sorry Hanji: please answer me baby Hanji: i’m so sorry. My head is all fucked up rn Hanji: all i can think about is you Hanji: all i’ve been able to think about is you Hanji: y/n please can we just talk about this? Hanji: about what happened last night? Hanji: if i crossed a line, i’m really sorry but unless i’m an idiot, it seemed like we both were into what happened Hanji: i’m not mad. I just don’t understand why you keep pushing me away Hanji: god this really sucks. I really liked talking to you and then we had some of the most mind blowing sex and you just disappeared Hanji: then you showed up again and then the thing in the bathroom happened and now you’re not talking to me again Hanji: not that you were talking before. Fuck now i’m rambling. Hanji: look. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if i crossed any lines. I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable and i’m sorry for anything i might have done to offend or hurt or upset you. Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You let out a sigh, your food and television forgotten as you typed a reply.

You: you have nothing to apologize for Han. It’s my fault. When I invited you over, I had no idea you were Felix’s roommate. If I had known, I never would have invited you over. You: i promise you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m more mad at myself for slipping up. I told myself after i found out you were Lix’s roommate that we couldn’t continue. We can’t continue. regardless of how i feel, we can’t keep going You: i had no intention of seeing you again after learning who you were but Felix lied to get me to come to the apartment and force us to meet. I’m sorry for coming into your home and if i made you uncomfortable in anyway it was not my intention You: i’m sorry for the way i left but i panicked. I was afraid we were going to get caught.

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar three dots appear as Han typed a response. It was then you noticed the read receipts on your messages. Before you could close the app, his reply popped up.

Hanji: why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve been beating myself up over this when all i really wanted to do was talk to you Hanji: I know it hasn’t been long since we met, but i really like you y/n Hanji: why are you so afraid of getting caught? We’re adults y/n. we can sleep together if we want to. It’s not about Felix You: you didn’t know Lix in college, did you? Hanji: no but why does that matter? You: because this isn’t the first time ive hooked up with one of his friends… Hanji: …your answer to the game at the party. You: yes. There were two people in that circle i’ve slept with Hanji: so me… who else? You: god this is so embarrassing. talking about my sexual history Hanji: i’m not going to judge you y/n You: …it was changbin. Hanji: yoooo really? You: stop! 😫 Hanji: sorry 😶 but really? You: yeah. It was back in college. We were both drunk at a frat party. He asked me to dance and one thing led to another and yeah… You: i felt so awful and guilty when i finally told felix. He says he wasn’t upset but i still felt awful. Hanji: did you know changbin and felix were friends when you and changbin slept together? You: yes. Which is why i felt so bad Hanji: then its different with us. You: how? Hanji: you didn’t know felix and i were roommates. You hadn’t met me yet. You: …i mean. I guess thats true Hanji: you only found out afterwards. How did that happen by the way? You: i was doing my laundry and felix brought up the subject of my… kink. He mentioned he had a friend who recently hooked up with someone and did the same thing i mentioned i liked Hanji: you and felix talk about your sexual kinks? You: i mentioned it when i was drunk. Hanji: ahh. Checks out. I did that too. But wait. He mentioned his friend? You: yeah. So he asked if i was interested in meeting his friend and i said i wasn’t sure so he pulled up their instagram… Hanji: no. Fucking. Way You: yes. He said you had hooked up with a girl recently and tried the whole anon sex and restraint thing and well.. i guess he was talking about us. Hanji: i’m sorry but i’m laughing right now You: why are you laughing??? This is mortifying! Hanji: what are the odds??? I mention to my roommate one time that i hooked up with a strange woman i met online, had some of the best sex ever and this whole time, it was his best friend. You: …it’s not funny 😩 Hanji: it’s a little funny You: 😠 is not Hanji: 🤏 just a bit You: wait a second… Hanji: ??? You: did you say you liked me? Earlier? Hanji: scroll up babe. I did You: … Hanji: and i’ve been dying to know You: …if i like you too? Hanji: yes. It’s been eating at me. You: why? Hanji: uh because i like you, you dork

When you didn’t respond, he continued.

Hanji: so do you? Hanji: like me? You: …yes Hanji: oh thank god. I was holding my breath and about to die You: but it doesn’t change anything Hanji: what? Why the hell not? You: because you’re Lix’s roommate and i’m his best friend. Hanji: look, forget felix for a second. Pretend like he’s not there. Hanji: what do you want? Do you like me? You: yes Hanji: do you want me? You: Han… Hanji: felix has been snapped from existence, okay? Thanos style snap Hanji: he doesn’t exist. Never did. Hanji: do you want me? You: …yes. Hanji: how bad do you want me? You: so fucking bad Han Hanji: yeah? You want me to touch you? You: yes. Fuck i want you to touch me so bad Hanji: want my hands all over you You: i want your hands all over me, Han Hanji: fuck, you’re making me want to come over You: you can’t Hanji: why not? You: because it’s late Hanji: hasn’t stopped me before Hanji: Felix won’t notice. He’s too engrossed in his phone to ask. Hanji: let me come over and make you feel good baby Hanji: please after last time, i can’t get you out of my head.

You were about to respond when your phone buzzed, a text from Felix flashing across the top of the screen.

Lixie: are you busy? You: uh. Not really Lixie: 👀 oh? Am I interrupting something? You: it’s nothing. What are you up to? Lixie: well i was gonna invite you to come over and watch this movie with Jisung and i but he just said he was going to bed so maybe another time >: You: lol it’s also pretty late Lixie: yeah. I didn’t think this through but while i have you here can i ask you something?

Your eyes caught sight notifications from Han at the top of your screen as you tried to focus on the texts from Felix.

You: i was actually about to head to bed Lixie: awww ): another time then. Don’t wanna keep your bed waiting You: lmao shut up. I’ll text you tomorrow Lixie: sweet dreams y/n~ You: u too Lixie

You pulled Han’s messages back up.

Hanji: please? 🥺 Hanji: baby? Where did you go? Hanji: i’m in bed now. I’d rather be in yours though 😫 You: sorry. Lix texted me lol Hanji: i figured that’s what happened. What did he want? You: to invite me over for a movie but you went to bed so he changed his mind. Hanji: if i go back out there will you come over? 👀 You: no??? Hanji: ): but babyyyyy You: if i came over now i’d have to spend the night Hanji: 👀 im not entirely against the idea You: in Felix’s room Hanji: aww booooo why? You: why would i sleep in your room? Hanji: well, we wouldn’t be sleeping baby (; You: …and just like that, felix would know everything Hanji: boooo 😑 fine. Then let me come over. You: but you said you were going to bed. Felix might think you’re up to something if you leave now Hanji: goddamn it… Hanji: guess i’ll have to settle for this then You: for what? Hanji: [image]

You tapped on the image and nearly dropped your phone.

You weren’t expecting anything but the sight of Han’s hand curved over the outline of his obvious erection sent a wave of heat and blood rushing to your core.

You quickly got up from the couch, cleaning up your food, downing the rest of your wine before heading to your room and climbing into bed. As you settled against the cushions on your bed, Han sent another message.

Hanji: you wanna see more? Hanji: all you have to do is ask baby You: jfc Han. Warn me next time 😫 Hanji: haha no can do baby You: i was sitting on my couch all unassuming Hanji: are you still on your couch? You: no. I’m in bed now Hanji: let me see

You turned your camera on, snapping a picture of your thighs, tiny sleep shorts and all to send to him.

Hanji: fuck. Send me another You: no u first Hanji: be careful what you wish for baby

You giggled as you waited for Han to send another picture. This time it was his hand disappearing into his pants.

Hanji: more? You: hmmm. whatcha reaching for? 🤔 Hanji: oh when i get my hands on you next…

You bit your lip in anticipation as he no doubt snapped another picture which appeared quickly. You opened it and your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock in his hand. You pressed your thighs together and quickly typed a response.

You were in the middle of typing when your phone buzzed with the notification of a call from discord. Han was calling you.

You scrambled to answer it.

“H-hello?” Your voice was shaking but on the other end, Han was just as breathless. “You like those pictures?” He asked, half amused.

“Mhmm. I did,” you answered, settling back into your pillows. “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you,” you added. Han chuckled, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “Are you… touching yourself right now?” You asked.

Han fell silent before answering. “Are you not?”

You shook your head. “No, actually. Not yet,” you answered, moving your hand to rest on your thigh. “Jumped the gun, sorry about that, baby,” Han replied, making you smile, biting your bottom lip to hold in a giggle.

“Do you need an incentive?”

“Hmm what will you give me?” You were teasing him now but Han couldn’t be bothered to care. “Whatever you want, baby,” he answered, his hand moving slowly as he stroked himself, listening to the sound of your breathing.

“Whatever I want?” You repeated him. “Yes. Whatever you want, baby.”

“Hmm, send me a video?”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Why don’t I just video call you?” He asked, moving his hand a little faster. “What if that’s not what I want?” You asked, making him pout. “Why ask for a video when you can watch me live, baby?” He asked.

You fell silent this time. He hesitated, thinking he might have gone too far before his phone buzzed. You had started a video call. Han flipped his camera feed around before turning it on. He was greeted by your face in the neon pink lights of your room. “Hey gorgeous,” he said with a smirk.

A shy smile crossed your face. “Hey,” you replied. “You really aren’t touching yourself?” Han asked, clicking his tongue when you shook your head. “You said you’d give me an incentive,” you reminded him. Han drew his bottom lip between his teeth before answering.

“I did, but I don’t think you’ve earned it.” Your laugh made his heart beat erratically. “That’s not how incentives work, Han,” you answered. He smiled sheepishly. “How about you show me what you’re doing?”

Han glanced down at his hand wrapped around his cock and then back up to the screen. “Is that incentive enough?” He asked. You tilted your head playfully. “We’ll see.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a groan before he complied, tilting the screen down so you could see his hand moving up and down his shaft.

He only gave you a small preview before tilting the screen back up.

“Good enough?” He asked. You smiled and moved, the screen a blur for a moment as you set your phone down. Han slowed his hand and watched as you reappeared. You had propped your phone up and were now sitting in front of it.

He watched as you sat back on your heels, hands moving to the bottom of your sweatshirt, playing with the hem. “You gonna strip for me?” He asked softly, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

You slowly lifted the sweatshirt, exposing your stomach first and then pulled it off over your head swiftly, leaving you in your shorts and a lacy bralette that glowed in the neon pink lights. Han let out a groan as you leaned in a bit closer.

“Keep going, baby,” he rasped. “Give me a show.”

You smiled at him through the screen. “Only if you give me one.”

Han moved at the speed of light, setting his phone up on his bed to the side of him. “Better?” He asked softly as his fingers wrapped around his cock and resumed stroking. You nodded wordlessly and sat back up.

Han watched as your thumbs tucked under the waistband of your shorts and slowly pushed them down, sitting up on your knees to remove them. Your panties matched the bralette and Han nearly moaned at the sight of you kneeling on your bed, knees spread in the pink glow of your room.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl,” he groaned. He watched as your hands moved, sliding slowly up your thighs from your knees. One hand moved up to your chest, grabbing your tit over the lace as the other drifted slowly between your thighs.

“Fuck I wish I was there,” Han groaned, his head falling back against his pillows for a moment before he looked back at the screen. In the time between, you’d removed your panties and were now sitting with your thighs spread, giving him a front row seat to your glistening sex.

“Go on,” he said. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your hand traveled down between your thighs, fingers slowly playing with your clit before dipping down to your slit. Instead of sinking your fingers into your entrance, you pulled them back up, spreading your labia for him to see just how wet you were.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hand squeezing himself and imagining it was your cunt.

“Finger yourself for me baby, go on,” he instructed, almost growling when two of your fingers disappeared inside your wet heat. The moan that came out of you as your fingers curled inside you was almost enough to tempt him into leaving his room and going to your apartment.

He wanted to be there so badly. He wanted his fingers moving slowly in and out of your tight hole. He wanted to finger you slowly, torturously until you begged him to fuck you. “Keep going,” he urged. “Faster,” he added. “I know you can take it.”

Han watched as your hand moved faster, fingers disappearing inside your cunt with a loud, wet squelching sound not unlike when he fingered you at the party.

“Fuck, I really wish I was there now,” he groaned. “If I was there, I’d have you spread out on that pretty comforter as I fucked you.” You moaned loudly, spurring him on. “And I’d mark that pretty neck. Cover it so everyone knows you’re mine.”

His possessiveness was coming out but he couldn’t be bothered to care and judging by the way your hand moved faster, you didn’t seem to mind.

“Han,” you gasped out his name, fingers curling as you no doubt tried to reach the spongy spot he’d reached before, the spot that had your thighs shaking around his hand as he coaxed your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it sugar,” he grunted, fucking his fist faster. “Just like that. Keep going.”

You let out a breathy moan, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit as your fingers curled more, attempting to reach that sweet spot. “Hannie, I’m close,” you whimpered. “You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his own high approaching rapidly. You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned. “Do it,” Han encouraged. “Be a good girl and cum all over those fingers. Pretend they’re mine. Cum for me baby girl.”

Your thighs shook, body shuddering as you moaned, fingers still moving as you rubbed your clit with the heel of your hand. “Hng Hannie~” you whined as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Watching you come undone pushed Han over the edge, cursing and groaning as he came, painting his stomach with his release. His hand continued to stroke himself, making sure to get every last drop.

Han glanced over to his phone, breathing heavily. You had fallen back against your pillows, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Taking the moment to grab a few tissues, Han cleaned himself off, stuffing his cock back in his pants before he wiped his hands and grabbed his phone. “Babe?” He called softly.

“You alright?”

You stirred slowly, rolling onto your side before sitting up and leaning forward. “‘M okay,” you murmured, smiling tiredly at him. Han returned the smile before letting out a sigh. “That was amazing,” he finally said, making you hide your face in your sheets before you looked back up. “Yeah. Would have been better if you were here though.”

Han tilted his head playfully. “Next time?” He asked, hopeful. You smiled at him again. “We’ll see,” you answered softly. “It’s getting late,” you commented, squinting at the screen, no doubt looking at the clock in the corner.

Han checked his. You were right. It was well past midnight. “I don’t want to hang up,” he murmured, watching you through the screen. “Me neither,” you admitted just as softly. “We could just stay on the phone?” He asked. You nodded before sitting up quickly. “Let me put some clothes back on.”

Han whined as you disappeared. “You could always just stay naked!” He reminded you, making you laugh off screen. A moment later, you reappeared in a long tee, shifting to lay on your side with your phone propped up against the pillows.

“I wish I was next to you,” Han whispered, watching you through the screen. “Me too.” You nodded as you spoke. “Ugh, I just wanna hold you,” Han whined. “And kiss you.” Your smile widened as he spoke. “Yeah?” You asked.

Han nodded. “Yes. I just want to hold you so tight and kiss you. All over that cute face,” he answered, making you giggle. “Next time,” you murmured, making him smile. “Next time?” He asked again excitedly, heart hammering when you nodded.

“Yeah, next time.”

[ohbabydollie]

MORE MUTUAL BREAKUP 🙏🤲🧎‍♀️

i need a break from trying to write smut 😔

moments of u two!!

a lil comp of silly scenarios, dialogue, etc. i think would apply to reader n schlatt

— — — —

a guy who asked to do a podcast interview with you obviously flirting while schlatt is sitting along side the camera man, sucking his teeth and biting his tongue, staying quiet

you ignore the flirting until you notice schlatt is getting jealous by the second and a few more flirty remarks away from punching the guy

so you do the only thing you can think of

“it’s a little cold in here” you say rubbing your arms

“really? i think it’s kinda hot” the guy says taking off his jacket about to hand it to you before schlatt sprints into action

he takes off his hoodie and hands it to you

“thank you honey” you say grabbing it and receiving a small peck from him and putting it on, completing the rest of your interview with the hoodie on, all warm and cozy in schlatt’s jacket

———

you held a volleyball tournament (very similar to the dodgeball tournament)

everyone showing up in shorts and shirts meanwhile you were in your highschool volleyball uniform, fitting you tighter in some places than it used to

everyone sees the way schlatt’s brows raise when you first arrive

everyone noticed schlatt not taking his eyes off your ass whenever you would bend over, go retrieve the ball, receiving and in general doing anything

during breaks he’ll take you into a corner when he thinks a camera can’t see and kiss you, parting with a smile and slapping your ass as you walk off with a dopey grin

———

“my favorite song right now? it’s probably that song from juno” you say smiling “here is the church and here is the steeple”

“we sure are cute for two ugly people” schlatt chimes in

“i don’t see what any one can see in anyone else but youu” you both sing smiling

“she plays it all the time, it’s so annoying” schlatt teases as you stick your tongue out at him

———

schlatt talks about you when asked or if you’re even referenced

“y/n, she is genuinely the best most incredible person i know, the way you see her on camera is the way she is in person, just that she’s softer and sweeter. I am her biggest fan, genuinely, she’s the most perfect person i know and i love being with her, not even just sex, i like being around her as a person, they make me a better person and it’s like every time i have to leave her, i feel empty. a piece of me is filled when im with her. She could ask me to get back with her in five minutes, tomorrow, fifty years in the future, i wouldn’t care, i’d get back with her in a heartbeat”

———

“my gum is out of flavor” you say looking around for a place to throw it out

“hand me it” schlatt says putting his hand out before you spit out the gum softly onto his palm, schlatt wastes no time putting it in his mouth almost immediately after causing you to look at him with wide eyes

“Schlatt! that’s disgusting”

“eh, i’ve had your tongue in my mouth before” he says blowing a bubble

———

“hello?” you ask putting your phone on speaker for the chat

“hey toots”

“oh hey schlatt”

“so, jambo has been cryin, sittin in the spot he always sat down next to you n he jus’ misses you” schlatt says sadly “i was wonderin’ if you could come over n comfort him since he jus wants his mommy” he asks softly

“yeah, i’ll be over in a few” you say before quickly ending your stream and going over to schlatt’s

“oh my poor baby jambo” you say picking up the mewing cat “you missed your mommy, didn’t you” you ask the cat softly, sitting down next to schlatt and giving jambo small kisses

eventually you fall asleep with jambo in your lap and schlatt carries you both to his bed, laying you down gently and he takes a photo

it’s his background for the next few months

———

“you got any sauce for this?” you ask schlatt as you bite into your fries before he goes into his pantry and fetches a new bottle of your favorite sauce

“schlattie” you chirp “you hate this sauce” you say opening up the bottle

“i know, i just had it left from when you lived with me” he lies

“i took the last bottle with me when i moved out” you say downwards smiling “you bought a new bottle for me”

“whatever” he huffs, knowing that you were right, he hated that stupid sauce but found your reaction to him having it adorable

———

“yeah, i’ve always wanted a surprise birthday party, but i’ve never gotten one” you say softly as schlatt makes note of it

a few months later on your birthday, you realize that very few people have said happy birthday, one of the few being schlatt

it’s a lonely day, you spend some of it alone before you get a text from schlatt at 2 pm

cat babydaddy: get ready, i’m picking you up at 5

you happily get ready, showering, shaving, everything

once he arrived he has a large bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and a box of chocolate covered strawberries, smiling at you lovingly

“you look great toots” he says handing you your bouquet and bringing your gifts inside, you thank him with a few kisses before he tells you to hurry so you won’t be late for the reservations he made

you giggle the whole way there, holding his hand as the both of you talk before you notice that he’s going past a bunch of restaurants before he makes you put on a eye mask which you do confused

he leads you out of the car and in through some doors, gently he takes the mask off of you to reveal a beautifully decorated venue

your friends and family jumping out to yell happy birthday at you as you feel yourself tearing up, turning to schlatt with tears of joy

“don’t cry, happy birthday toots” he says wrapping an arm around you and planting a kiss on your lips

lmk if u guys want some more, i gotta feed my mutual break up lovers

[silver-horse]

I fucking LOVE how loyal the companions are to each other... and how their relationships are evolving with both each other and the player.

to all those people who think Larian is copying Dragon Age... well Dragon Age would never have this. where all the very fucked up companions who are in this shit together actually recognise that fact with common sense and they support each other despite any differences. Not only that BUT they recognise the similarities they have with each other and support each other based on that fact

Example: Astarion-Gale (how Astarion comments "he is a man of taste" if the player is a little annoyed with Gale and if player says that he wants to suck out magic lol Or when Gale is supportive like the "don't do it Astarion, it's not worth it, trust me, I know the temptation only too well" and so on...)

If this was dragon age then they would talk to each other like "how typical, ofc you are like this, dickhead" and trying to be helpful and supportive would be a 1 in a billion dialogue. they would only make shit worse for each other. and look... interpersonal conflicts could be a fun driving force of plot but in da it mostly doesn't drive the plot. they are just making shit worse for the other person even when it makes no sense and when they should be more friendly and understanding based on their own struggles.

Another example: Wyll-Karlach (their conflict actually does start the plot. it has a significance, it's not there for no reason. but even after that initial conflict they immediately become understanding of each other and supportive. they both dislike devils, they both want to escape from that situation etc. and they don't act like idiots who don't see that they are in this together. even though one of them tried to kill the other. one of them received horns because of the other. )

I could go on... but whatever, you get the picture. I just like this type of writing for interactions between characters.

[star-suh]

Santa Tell Fuck Me 🎅🎄

Kang Yeosang x Male Reader

cw: verse dom-ish yeosang, verse reader, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding, sex toys, ass stuffing, rimjob, blowjob.

an: sorry for the corny dialogue lmao. also happy holidays everyone !!♡

—

december 24th in the morning, yn was preparing everything for ‘santa's arrival’; "incredible how you, a grown ass man, still believe in those things" wooyoung laughed out loud mocking the other. "idiot in this family they have always done this, i have no fucking idea why they do it knowing that santa doesn't exist... however i think it's kinda cute” he said while accomodating the socks and some letters.

“why don't you ask santa for a good cock, then? we can't end this year without a good fucking” wooyoung added. yn looked at him dumbfounded but decided to follow up the joke by writing 'dear santa, i want a good fuck tonight'.

yn spent the whole day outside the house with wooyoung, visiting friends and family. finally, midnight arrived and yn went home, amazed at what he found there in his living room.

there he was, santa in flesh and bones, but he was different from the santa that everyone knew, this santa wore a sleeveless vest showing off his strong oiled arms “i heard someone here was looking for a big, hard candy cane” he says grabbing his big bulge “where's that ho ho hoe?”.

“no fucking way, you're real?” yn rubs his eyes thinking maybe he's imagining it "damn you're sexier than people think", santa can almost see the drool coming out of his mouth, “what are you waiting for? come here and give this cane some good licks”, santa discarded his pants showing the jockstrap he was wearing. yn quickly knelt in front of him and moved the jockstrap to the side taking his cock out "so big" yn's tongue lick over everything from the balls to the tip, savoring every inch of that juicy cock.

“get on top of me” santa hurried the other, taking off his pants in the process, while yn continued sucking cock, santa adjusted his ass so that it was in front of his mouth and began to suck it.

when it was already wet, santa took out a dildo from his gift bag, which was decorated with the patterns of a candy cane, and inserted it completely into the other's hole, making him moan loudly "shit, very deep..."

the holidays man continued abusing that tight hole, inserting and removing the dildo quickly with no mercy "damn you're going very fast daddy", and just when he heard that santa accelerated his movements and yn noticed how the cock swelled a little more in his hands "so a daddy fetish huh–hngh..!"; "shut the fuck up and keep sucking if you want me to give you your gift, christmas slut!!”.

“now let me give you your gift" santa takes yn down from his lap to slap his hard cock against the palm of his hand and spits on the tip "what are you waiting for bitch, sit on it" and yn obeyed, slowly sliding on santa's thick meat.

yn pushed himself hard on it; “damn boy, you acting so desperate as if this was the last dick you've ever take in your life” santa growled feeling the pleasure of being squeezed by a tight warm hole, “it's not the last one, but it's not every day you get to ride santa.

After what felt like hours, santa locked his strong arms around yn tightly and with a few last strong thrusts all his seed was shooted inside the boy, some of it dripped down santa's shaft “fuck that's a whole year of cum inside you boy, and you were able to keep it inside like the good slut you are. i think you deserve another gift” as he finishes saying that, santa spreaded his ass cheeks showing his pink hole to yn, making his mouth water “fuck really?” questioned yn, still not believing what is happening. “uh-huh” santa nodded “i think tonight i won't ride my sleigh… i'll ride you instead..”

santa was tight as fuck, it was so tight that yn came seconds later after the first thrust “don't stop until you unload all that sperm inside your balls on me, you hear me bitch boy?” yn nodded and kept fucking him. yn used some of the cum in his ass as a lube.

santa's ass hole was so wet and agape after many loads dripping down his legs and when yn thrusted some of it splashed on his torso and santa's back. they were a hot mess of cum and sweat.

santa resumed on fuckin yn but this time he introduced a long strip of anal beads decorated as christmas’ three balls “it feels so weird… i feel so full..” yn cried feeling the overstimulation hitting him “shh just enjoy it’ santa pressed his index finger on the other's lips while introducing his cock inch by inch.

in the next hour santa didn't kept fucking yn, despite the other's pleas, he didn't stopped until he fills him with his sperm again. he came inside again, pulling out his cock seconds later after riding his high. then without warning, in one swoop, the christmas man took out half of the anal beads from the poor boy's ass "motherfucking santa that hurts", santa just laughed "sorry boy i got carried away.. but now it's your job to get the rest of them out of you. push as hard as you can".

yn pushed and pushed, one by one each bead came out of his ass, dripping with semen, "damn it seems like it was snowing inside you" santa joked, tapping yn's ass to make him push faster "there are only a few left”, santa said.

the last one came out, the long strip of beads fell to the floor over a pool of semen "the best gift i have ever received in my life" yn whispered feeling satisfied, falling asleep on the floor right after.

the next morning he woke up and, feeling no pain, he thought that everything from the previous night was a dream until he saw a letter on his nightstand. "if you're wondering why you're not in pain, it's because i took care of it. i'll see you next year on christmas" there was also a cute drawing of a face winking, at which yn just smiled. he kept the letter in a secret place in his room and left to meet wooyoung to have breakfast.

[showtoonzfan]

Okay so I saw S1E2 of HH “Video killed the radio Star” so here’s my thoughts on that, ⚠️SPOILERS⚠️

- So once again, the pacing is all over the place. In the span of 2 episodes we have to deal with introducing Adam and Lute, the main characters of the hotel, the three V’s and Sir Pen, and I don’t like how the three V’s are introduced in the second episode of season 1. Like…can we just let the characters we know breathe and get to know them before you introduce new ones?? Told you this was going to be like Helluva lol.

- So hell is freaking out that the extermination got moved to 6 months later, but Charlie of course isn’t the focus of this episode. It’s mainly the three V’s + Angel/Al/Sir Pen. It still bothers me that the reason behind redeeming sinners is not because Charlie is sick of Hell being a damnation but because she doesn’t want them to be exterminated. It’s such a drastic change from the pilot and the character motivation that it still throws me off sorry.

- So, I actually like Vox. I take back bitching about Christian Borle playing him because while his suave voice may not fit the twink design, he does a fantastic job either way as expected, making Vox an intimidating person. I had thought before that Vox was going to just be this dumb henchman, but I actually like how he’s the runner of things. He’d be so cool if he didn’t curse and talk like every other character in the show though.

- Good GOD Valentino. I already shared how I felt about him when the dialogue leaks came out, but I HATE how his character is just this idiot man baby who throws temper tantrums and legit needs to be “calmed down” by Vox because he’s such an idiot. Like…Velvette calls him a piss baby and Vox legit had to talk to him as if he was one, that’s how dumb this guy is. There’s a scene where Vox asks what they should do about the hotel and Val says “just put something inside, that’s how I get the bitches”- like…kill me. The fan interpretations were better. He was actually someone you didn’t want to mess with and had an intimidating voice, here he’s a whiny baby that you have to remind yourself is the same guy who forces himself on Angel. The Addict and comic version of this character is not the same as the one we have now. His voice is too high pitch, it sucks and his accent goes on and off constantly. Viv can’t write abusers for shit, she sees everything as a joke. Again, how are we supposed to take abuse seriously if this is how you portray your abuser. Crimson is more intimidating than this joke of a cockroach.

- Alastor has been gone for seven years, yeah that “Lilith is Rosie and Al is working for her”- allegation is 100% true like it perfectly lines up together since Lilith has also been gone for seven years. Only for Alastor, it makes no sense. Like…wdym he’s been gone for seven years. The pilot is canon and they state he’s been at the hotel for a week. Alastor was literally walking around town when Charlie was on the news. Do they mean that it’s been years since he’s done his radio show? Viv, when you retcon shit you need to specify. You’re just confusing everyone again.

- They need to explain why exactly it’s dangerous to make a deal with Alastor because all this vagueness isn’t helping the story. The whole reason Vox sends Sir Pen out to be a spy was to make sure Charlie didn’t make a deal with him, yet you literally have Vaggie making a deal with him like it was nothing in the last episode. I also fail to see why exactly Vox cares about Charlie making a deal with Alastor in the first place. Is it because he doesn’t want Al to have more power? Is it because he doesn’t want Charlie to have power? EXPLAIN.

- Yay more retconning and woobifying. So Angel Dust is a whiny wimpy bitch in this episode, he’s very out of character. When Sir Pen comes to the hotel, he’s extra pressed about that, when in the pilot he couldn’t even take Sir Pen seriously and was acting nonchalant towards him. Then when Charlie starts getting all giddy and complimenting Pen, Angel gets sad and jealous??? This is the second fucking episode of season 1. I thought the whole point about Angel and the hotel was that he didn’t trust Charlie nor take the redemption stuff seriously. Now apparently he wants her approval? And then when he finds Pen out, Pen insults him and that causes Angel to just fucking lunge at him and start punching. When did Angel get this goddamn sensitive. Why did the wimpy snake character who’s supposed to be a loser get under his skin THAT much? It’s even more jarring because the last episode Angel was literally saying he loves being exploited and in the pilot he’s presented as someone who could give less of a shit of what other people think, now a simple jab at him being a slut made him go off. Remember when Travis called him a slut in the pilot and Angel just laughed it off? What happened to that Angel lol.

- Vaggie has a line that flat out calls Angel a sexual harasser. And yet we’re supposed to feel bad for him and root for HuskerDust. Makes perfect sense Viv, fuck you. She has no idea what sexual harassment even is because she sees actual harassment as quirky funny jokes and paints it as genuine love. Pick a side. Is Angel an asshole who sexually harasses people or is he an uwu baby who deserves to be with Husk. Clearly Viv chose the second option.

- I liked Vox and Al’s song, tho I wish it was more singing instead of talking. Charlie’s song in the end was boring but at least it was short. I still don’t know how to feel about Pen being at the hotel tho. Like I get he’s a loser and not a big threat but him happily joining the hotel now is way too structurally fast. There’s a lot of things that feel like Viv changed at the last minute compared to the pilot and it shows. Pilot was better.

That’s it, not looking forward to the third one which is HuskerDust focused (female centric show my ass)