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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.1k)

Summary: With the birth of your child looming, you and Aemond finally lay your cards on the table. A growing problem reaches a boiling point.

Warnings: more lying/manipulation (y’all know the drill by now), Aemond once again gaslighting, mentions of s*icide

A/N: it’s been such a fun time writing this. It is definitely different from most things I’ve written, so it have been a nice change. I’ve gotten so much support from it and I hope to keep making stuff you guys like. Also slight disclaimer that the way I write Alys is not really way I read her in the book. Much like Aemond in this. They both kind of suck lmao. I wanted this to be the last part but then I thought of more things so… we shall see how this goes 👍🏽. I wanted this chapter to be a build up to events in ep 8-10 mainly 9 and 10 of the show.

Fmo masterlist

You can’t remember the last time Aemond and you have had dinner, just the two of you. So, when he insisted you that you two do, you had a feeling it was about the talk Queen Alicent said she wanted to have with him. A private dinner with your husband would have been a dream moons ago.

Alicent did not make you privy to what they discussed. It only made you more weary. You know she is hurt and upset. But you also know she is more hurt that the son she propped up so much turned out to be just as unreliable as the man she made him with.

That is the painful part about love; the only place to go is down.

Nevertheless, his suffering is what you want; it does not matter if the ire stems from a place on genuine care for you. The uncomfortable nature in which he moves the castle makes the pain you have suffered a little bearable. It sounds deranged, but if you are to be trapped, he should be as well. You want him to wake with the same lump in his throat you do.

The letters had stopped. A constantly stream of communication abruptly ended. Lord Strong gave you a funny smile when he told you.

Ser Quinton rarely leaves your side when Aemond is around. He gave you a reluctant glance when you tell him about the dinner. While Aegon, already deep in his cups midday, tells you to keep a grip on your fervor.

The corridor was empty except for the two of you.

“I know how him and mother are,” he point his fingers at you emphatically. “They probably already concocted something to keep you quiet or make you look like the problem. Keep you…. Idle.”

Despite the slurring of his words, and clear bitterness towards the relationship Alicent and Aemond have, he may not be wrong. Alicent had already taken it upon herself to write to your father, suggesting he visits soon. She is proactive to a fault; her behavior simultaneously holding the Seven Kingdom together and enabling her family’s indecencies.

Everything can be hidden under the right tactics and false goodwill. You want to say she got that trait from her father, but you know it comes from years of being a woman in the Red Keep. From being the Queen.

The dinner begins uneventful. You wrinkle your nose at the meat pie in front of you. A dish you normally like making your stomach churn. It is hard not to feel sick or uncomfortable these days. You’re huge; feet swollen and belly protruding to a remarkable degree. The sheer thought of how big the babe will be plagues your mind most days.

It is unbearable having to engage in meaningless small talk with Aemond. Like he is insulting your intelligence by tip toeing around everything.

“Are you going to tell me why you wanted this dinner,” you want nothing more to leave his chambers and go take a bath.

“I think we need to talk.”

You can’t help but scoff at him. Aemond looks even more haunting in the dark lighting of room. Like the brutal knights the septas used to make you read about. He has a nasty look in his eye, like he wants a fight. You wonder if his Alys gets this look or if it just reserved for you. One special thing for his wife.

Despite all the formal swordsman training, Aemond plays dirty in personal affairs. Much like a feral cat backed into a corner. You’ve seen it to many times with Aegon. The only thing he responds to is equally cruel jabs.

“Yes dear husband,” you sigh out of boredom, rolling your neck.

His next words take you by surprise.

“Daella told me she is not excited about her egg hatching,” he huffs out. You stop rolling your neck, and blink blankly at him. The two of your stare at each other before you bark out a laugh.

“That is what this is about? You are pouting because a child is no longer enraptured by an egg.”

“It is not only about the egg, and you know it,” a nasty tone to match the look he gives you. “You fill her head with assumptions. You debase something that is her birthright. Something that is the birthright of her father, and her ancestors.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, if I disparaged the great Targaryen legacy or dragons in front of her it must have been a… mistake.”

You swear you see Aemond’s eye twitch a little at the word.

“Have you ever thought maybe it is not the dragons themselves, but the person she most associates them with?”

Daella’s change in behavior was notable. She never wanted to go to the dragon pit with her father, the few times she does work up the nerve to go it is always with her aunt to see Dreamfyre. She is no longer enthused to learn High Valyrian despite how quickly she picks it up.

You did try to keep your child out things, but kids are perceptive. The way from a young age Alicent kids picked on her strife with their father, maybe she picked up on yours with Aemond.

Aemond’s anger radiates off him. Once the truth finally comes out, the words begin to spill from your lips.

“And do not pretend this is just about Daella. That is an insult to her, and a waste of my time,” you lean forward, and lower your voice. “This about you losing your favor around here, and this about her.”

There is an uncomfortable hush comes over the room. The only sound is the crackling coming from the fireplace.

“She was pregnant,” it comes out like whisper. The spite that was laced through his voice is gone. All is left is confusion.

Your vision blurred red. There’s a painful twinge in your stomach, and you wince.

“What do mean was.”

There was always the possibility this could happen. As naive as it sounds, it was not a thought till ironically Aegon of all people brought it up. If anyone would know about possibly fathering bastards it would be him. Then he promptly told you that the two of you could hop on Sunfyre and burn her to a crisp. The offer that you quickly refused in the moment has never sounded so tempting now.

“I-I do not know where she is,” Aemond admits curtly. “One day she is telling me she is with child, and the next she’s…gone.”

He looks so small; his eye has a faraway look in it. It’s utterly pathetic. You never considered that a greater pain to him would be not only to be seen differently by his family, but also have to reason why he did it leave.

“So what now Aemond? She left you, and you want to just erase everything you have done. Pretend you care or love me,” you say coldly.

“No. I do not lo-“

He stops mid sentence, and an empty smile appears on your face. Neither of you have said it out loud but it is the plain truth.

“Go ahead and say it,” there is a deep pressure in your stomach that won’t go away. The pain only makes you even more upset. “Love requires respect. It requires give and take. You surely do not respect me, and all you ever do is take.”

Another twinge hits the underside of your belly. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, eyeing the door.

“You are not completely innocent in this,” your eyes go wide at his remark. “Do not give me that look. I see the way Ser Quinton looks at you. And now Alys is…”

He trails off. It is the first time you have heard him say her name out loud. Another surge of jealously runs through you. She is gone, and you are once again stuck with the carcass. Expected to uphold your end of the bargain while he frets over a child and mother that never should have been around to begin with.

You refuse to sit and let him turn the tables around on you. It is a struggle, but you manage to get up from the table, but only to have him rise and block your way.

“For someone who has such clear distain for my house. You sure do not hide your fire well… just like a dragon.” His eye flutter down to the scar on your arm, then back to your eyes. You see the blame in his.

“If I was that rash, or temperamental, your head would have been on a spike. Along with your whore’s,” you narrow your eyes. “And I would have made Ser Quinton sully his white cloak, because he would for me. Hells, I would have had your brother while I was at it. It’s not like he has not tried before.”

You are not sure you even want Ser Quinton in that way, let alone Aegon. Ser Quinton devotion is not something you know if you are willing to take that level. And Aegon’s cock has been in half the maidservants in the castle and most of the whores in Flea Bottom. Him wanting you is not special, it’s just Aegon being Aegon. But the deep look of rage in Aemond’s eye makes the statement all the more worth it.

You skirt past him quickly towards the door. His heavy footsteps behind you. Ser Quinton leaning against the wall opposite of the door does not surprise you.

“Are you alright,” he rushes over, concerned when you pause to in the hall and lean over in pain. His hand coming to rub your back.

“Oh well is this not sweet,” Aemond’s bitter tone cuts through the empty hall. “I can handle it from here Ser Quinton.”

Blood rushes to your ears, and you can barely hear the hushed disagreement that begins between the two. Your painful groans becoming background fader to their pissing match.

A familiar snap happens in the lower part of your abdomen, and a pool of liquid flows out of you. Both cease arguing, and you and Aemond share a knowing look.

“The babe is coming.”

Alaric Targaryen came into the world fast, and with a haughty disposition. As if he could tell the family dynamic he was coming into. His cries were piercing and sharp, matching the tears of relief you cried when he finally came out.

You had insisted to only have your lady in waiting and some septas in room, especially after the clear tension between Aemond and Quinton. Helaena and Alicent come in and out of the room sporadically, giving you words of encouragement and knowing glances at the pain you were in. Alicent had been shocked to see her son and Ser Quinton trying to get you back to chambers.

Lord Larys followed casually behind her. He gave that funny smile of his again. The smile he gives Queen Alicent when he thinks no one is watching… or maybe he hopes someone is watching.

She’s gone

Even while giving birth to your son, that woman plagued your thoughts. Aemond could be right; you two have more in common than you like. Bewitched by the same woman.

It took everything in you to look up when Aemond finally came into the room. Acknowledging his presence met remembering how he is half of Alaric. How so much of you belongs to Aemond. You live in his home, dress in his colors, your children will be in the history books as Targaryen’s. He will have ownership over your boy after calling him a mistake. No matter how much you try, you will be remembered as his wife.

If that fact did not make you sick enough. Alicent’s next words did the trick.

“Oh, he looks like how Aemond did when he was a babe.”

You look down at him in your arms. While Daella was a combination of Aemond and you, her brother is every bit of his father. Small tuff of straight blonde hair, lips town turned in a scowl. You did not know a babe could look so refined especially after just being born. The only resembles to yourself you see in his in his big glassy eyes looking up at you.

There’s an energy that gets sucked out you when Alicent hands him to Aemond. She sees the weary look on your face.

Opposed to the elation you felt after having Daella. Dread creeps in; dread that comes from a place of sadness and protectiveness. All you have is your children. Even with the bonds and alliances you may have made, only they are extensions of you. Daella, your sweet girl, a reminder of what could of been. You have Alaric, the flesh and blood reflection of what you have been through.

“Have you two thought of a name,” Alicent asks. Before Aemond, who is still looking down can answer, you beat him to it.

“Alaric. Ser Quinton told the sweetest story about a knight he admired as a child. I thought it would be fitting.”

Alicent’s brows raise but she does nothing but nod. “Handsome name for a handsome boy.”

Aemomd does not say anything about the name. He just quietly hums a melody when Alaric starts to fuss. He turns his back to you as he bounces him in his arms.

All you have is your children

When you think about a sword to the throat. You don’t know which situation would be more satisfying. One to his or one to yours.

“I am sure you were… relieved to hear about your problem being gone.”

You do not see Lord Larys again till weeks after Alaric is born. The day of a feast Alicent insisted you have to celebrate his birth. Your father and mother writing you that they can not wait to see their second grandchild.

While Daella was a fussy, energetic baby, all Aleric does is sleep and eat. He stares at you with curious eyes. Always taking in the scene around him. He lays sweetly crib next to your bed. After his birth, you were all but forced to move back into the one you shared with Aemond.

“Do you know what happened to her,” it’s been on your mind for since Aemond uttered those words.

Larys tilts his head to the side with a wry look. “You and I both know it is hard to place the whims of a difficult woman, especially a supposed magical one.”

You know he is not just talking about Alys.

She is out there, possibly with Targaryen blood in her and no one knows where is. It does not make any sense. Larys can read the skepticism all over your face.

“It is quite suspicious, witch or not. A bastard woman with no means or worth to her name, gone in an instant. And right after the truth comes out within the family. Right after the Queen and the Prince talk.”

He gives you no help, only more questions. Makes you more suspicious of those you have to call family. In this moment you hate the way he speaks in riddles. He never states things plainly till he is ready to. As if he expects you to do something before he can reveal anymore.

“But look on the bright side princess, your family will be back at court soon enough.”

Alaric begins to coo, as if he trying to tell you something.

“Well, thank you for your time, Lord Larys,” you give him a fake smile. “I should start getting ready.”

Your lady in waiting, Jayne, comes in once Larys finally leaves.

“I quite like this one princess,” she holds up a green and black dress. It is old dress of Alicent’s, one she gave you when you first married Aemond.

A flash of satiny purple in the back of you wardrobe catches your eye. A smile appears on your face. It may be a bit snug as you have two children since wearing it but it worth the try.

“I think I might want to try something a bit different Jayne.”

Your father used to tell you that the strongest flowers grow even when there is little sun. In conjunction, your mother told you that flowers are meant to be admired. Prettiest ones will often be picked and disregarded when a new bloom happens. Wilting was never an option for you in their mind.

You are their lower. Planted, watered, and urged to grow. Even in the deep darkness that is King’s Landing. The darkness they said was critical to helping your house.

The looks you get when you walk into the Godswood, head high in your deep violet dress only spurs you on when in other times it would make you want to hide. Daella and Alaric both in darling lavender outfits. You three stand out against the various muted greens, blues, and greys amongst you. Except for the few specs of purple that you see on the side wooded area.

“My dear girl,” your father’s hug makes you want to cry. Seeing your parents put into perspective how young you feel… how young you are.

Already married, mother of two, and all you want is your parents to hug you and tell you everything will be ok. When your father pulls you to the side and asks you about the letter Queen Alicent sent him, you are surprised to hear what she put in it.

“She said you are having a hard time,” he runs his hand over your arm. “That it is affecting your marriage.”

It should not surprise you she failed to mention her son’s cheating. But the onus being placed on you only proves what you already felt. They will protect their own, so you must protect yours.

Before you can muster up an answer, an anxious looking maidservant comes over with Jayne in tow.

“My Lady, I am sorry to interrupt. I went back to grab Alaric’s sweater. I saw something you may want to see; it was left it your chambers.”

Your eyes go to a box Jayne is carrying.

You must hold back a scream when you open the box and see Alaric’s favorite blanket, the one always in his crib, soaked in blood.

You frantically look over to the opposite side of the garden, your mother happily holding Alaric, Daella by her side. You look over to catch Aemond and Alicent giving you a questioning looks from across the Godswood.

As your vision blurs, you notice box had a tripartite of pale blue, red, and green on it.

“Jayne, please go fetch me Lord Larys and Ser Quinton.”

All you have is your children

Tag list: ok I’m sooo sorry to anyone who does not get a tag. I swear I am not ignoring you. I am only allowed to do 50 which is so annoying bc I want to tag everyone that was kind enough to support and ask. Also sometimes tumblr won’t let me tag certain people idk. If y’all know a better way please let me know, so I can try it ❤️❤️.

@simp-is-what-i-am @rey26 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @crispmarshmallow @dc-marvel-girl96 @stargaryenx @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @neenieweenie @iwanttohitmyself @helloitsshitzulover @lazypinkpig @shisuchiha @leoramage @viperixsworld @luvremlu @this-is-a-bad-idea @landlockedmermaid77 @inpraizeof @blacpiink @carriellie @s0urmarvel @blackravena @bregarc @hvx @let-love-bleeds-red @fangirls94 @v7nt7 @m1ndbrand @highexpectationsgurl @m1tzifa1ry @spaceslutty @elleclairez @kitkat-writes-stuff @paprikaquinn @widemiffyhappy @poisonedsultana @what-is-your-wish @lilliansstuff @rebelfleur22 @aloneatpeace @alastorhazbin @alexa4040 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ensolleildelune @clora95 @yu3kkii @mischiefmanaged2 @its-sam-allgood @papery-maniac

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #aemond x fem!reader #black!reader #aemond x oc

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gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat · 5 months

Text

Group B, Round 3, Poll 1:

Propaganda under the cut

Mercymorn

Girlbossing for the last ten thousand years. She says stuff like “ough” and “pfaugh” like actually saying the word. She (with the help of a colleague) seduced god to steal his jizz. She has memorised the entirety of human biology so that she can appropriately fuck with people using her wizard powers. She doesn’t know the difference between an 18 year old and an infant. She fantasises about putting god in a jail and filling the jail up with acid for every time he made a frivolous remark or ate peanuts in a meeting or said “what would I know I’m only god” and leave him in there for a thousand years. She often thinks about this.

Artist:@exmakina

Starscream

This mf is THE gaslight gatekeep girlboss of Transformers. He manipulates EVERYONE he can and is constantly trying to kill his boss to take his position. He has probably tried to literally gaslight someone before I'm sure, there's a lot of versions of him and they have different levels of fuckery but they're all A Bitch (affectionate). He's also tried to kill a bunch of people so you could say he's trying to gatekeep being alive. He also has an exclusive crew in a few different continuities that he has high standards for

Every 5 seconds he's trying to assassinate Megatron and declare himself leader, lied to everyone about succeeding, actually succeeded, became immortal, is the queerest transformer (which is saying a lot bc they're all really gay) and has high heels. Also I think it would be really funny and there are exactly 0 tf fans who would object to him being in this.

#round 3 #group b #tlt #mercymorn #the locked tomb #Maccadam #Macaddam #Starscream #Transformers #Transformers Starscream

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oleander-nin · 3 months

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Hi how do you think Yandere Leo and Yandere Donnie (together) hcs from rise would act as platonic yanderes friends who don’t wanna share the readers with others , turtles rather keep the reader to themselves , but what if reader got hurt by one of the villains how do the turtles react to that 👀

A/N, not important: Sorry for the late post. I've been busy. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, possession of a friend, manipulation, isolation, losing all friends, toxic behavior, toxic friendship, gaslighting(technically), hint towards murder, yandere behavior

Words: 718

Summary: ROTTMNT Platonic Yandere Leo and Donnie headcanons of when you get hurt

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i

They’d both be clingy, constantly vying for your individual attention while also trying to not annoy you to the point of attempting to remove them from your life. While they have you in their sights, neither is immediately trying to kidnap you off the bat. They like knowing you’re choosing to come to them. It gives them a superior feeling to the other people you used to call friends, even if they’re the reason you no longer have any other friends.

Neither let you go for very long without seeing one of them. They can’t go a day without checking in on you in person. Text or calls doesn’t cut it.

Leo loves to send you memes and funny videos, and gets upset if you don’t respond/react to them. He’ll probably end up at your window within half an hour of you missing a text, worried something happened to you.

Have slowly driven a wedge between you and all of your other friends, effectively isolating you. Neither Leo nor Donnie even let you hang out much with Raph or Mikey, preferring to keep you as reliant on them as possible. You’re their friend, and they’re the only friends you’ll ever need.

They’ll insist on sleepovers, or you staying over with them a lot. Leo especially likes to guilt trip you into staying over, constantly whining on how you’re avoiding them if you don’t. They’re trying to get you used to staying with them, hoping that the longer you spend with them, the less likely you’ll fight back when they decide you can’t leave.

They’re also incredibly protective of you, always judging who you’re with or who you want to make friends with. They have something on every person you try to form a bond with, trying to feed into your paranoia while painting themselves as your heroes. Donnie and Leo aren’t like everyone else, you can trust them.

Because of the different ways Leo and Donnie handle things with you, it ends up being in their benefit. You’re mad at Leo? Donnie will spend time with you and try to calm you down while making you see Leo’s point of view. You found Donnie’s tracker and are avoiding him? Of course Leo knew nothing about it, but can you blame Donnie? He’s only trying to keep you safe.

Their tag teaming makes it so you will never be able to have a break from them, and you won’t ever be able to be mad at one without the other coming to show you all the reasons you shouldn’t be.

They try their best to keep you away from the dangers of their ‘work’, telling you recounts of their fights while making sure you’ll never see one firsthand. They want to impress you and make you feel like they will be able to keep you safe, but never want you to be in the line of fire. Your safety will always be their top priority.

So when you show up with bruises and scratches one day, they’re both immediately on high alert. Both are nearly immediately up in arms and ready to kill as you tell them what happened. By the time you finish your account, Donnie’s already located the villain responsible and is having SHELLDON track their every move.

Neither of them leave your side until you’re feeling better and patched up. They’re delighted you came to them, and know that if they left now, you’d be upset while having to deal with your pain and fear alone. They’ll set up your favorite movie for you in the projector room, swaddling you in blankets and ordering your favorite take out.

As soon as you’ve calmed down, and hopefully fallen asleep, they’ll both go find who hurt you, and make sure they’ll never be able to hurt a single hair on you again.

When they return, they make sure to not alert you as they finally finish their preparations to the small train car they converted into your new room. The world is too dangerous for you, especially now that they’ve failed to protect you. They swear to never let something happen to you ever again, even if it means never letting you go. Which is fine by them, it’s not like this isn’t exactly what they wanted.

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makeyoumine69 · 6 days

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Memory Reboot x2

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke; the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room.

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean.

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?” That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office.

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up.

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen.

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere.

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity.

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question?

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants.

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head.

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs.

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy."

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

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!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader #gn reader

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lovelaetter · 6 months

Note

read a fic recently that just made me think about blackmailing nayeon and wanted to know what you though 👀 keep thinking about telling her if she doesnt accept your terms that youll go after tzuyu or dahyun next and when she does accept to save her members jist finger fucking her with tzuyu there touching herself cause youve already corrupted her and just breaking her

CW: BLACKMAIL, DUBCON, i think this is pretty fucked up? i mean, psychologically speaking, so, if you’re not okay with gaslighting/manipulation, read at your own risk.

although i do love the thing about tzuyu being the first and witnessing nayeon going through the same i just can’t help but think about blackmailing them back to back and messing with them both at the same time? maybe something tzuyu related, a photo, video, as nay would do anything to protect her :(

cornering nayeon one day and showing her the content, the cliché “wouldn’t be funny if everyone saw this?” while laughing and she’s so quick to jump into and beg you to not do that, tzuyu doesn’t deserve that. her blindly agreeing with you when you ask if she would do anything to help her friend, not realizing the implications, and one thing just leads to another. so reluctant at first, stopping your hands, looking at you with big eyes and “you promise you won’t do that if i let you…?” and you play the nice cards, saying that yes and that you would never break a promise but that she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to… but she knows what that will mean to her friend reputation.

touching her right there where you are, not caring if someone sees it, and she really tries hard to not enjoy it but it’s like you make sure she does, starting so slow, touching her over her clothes, lips on her neck, gently fondling her tits, so much teasing to the point she’s dragging your hand down to her pussy herself, whining pathetically when you point out her soaked underwear :( it’s so nice, your fingers fit so perfectly inside her, all that’s happening is terrifying but it feels so good she completely forgets about the purpose of it, just focus on your words and your touch.

you leave and the poor thing thinks it’s an one time thing, you fuck her and go, but the next day you show up at her house asking, more like demanding, for more and what is she supposed to do? you keep reminding her of what you have in hands. as the days pass by you get rougher and rougher tho, what was once harmless fingering and some pussy eating turning into slaps and holding her face down on the mattress while pounding her from behind, riding her face, lots of degradation included as you insist in saying she’s slut and probably likes what you’re doing to her, she probably doesn’t even care that much about tzuyu anymore and all she does is cry and whimper because you’re right, at this point she thinks about you all day and can’t wait for the next time you’ll use her! and she can’t even look tzuyu in the eyes anymore, it just feels awful, that she chose to be fucked for the sake of protecting her instead of telling her what you’re doing… and it’s weird because the younger starts acting just as weirder towards her too, ignoring her and giving her disgusting and disappointed looks and when she mentions it to you you get so angry and threatens her too, asking if she told tzuyu anything and she gets so desperate it’s— it’s so confusing.

unbeknownst to her, there’s the second part of your plan going on at same time, which is honestly, even worse than what you’re doing to her. visiting tzuyu on the same day of your first time with nayeon, sitting down with her and playing the good friend, saying you need to tell her something because you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t and just showing her the picture/video you have of her, watching as she starts shaking and crying and asking how did you get that and here comes the big surprise… you tell her nayeon sent it to you and that she plans on sending it to everyone :( and you even have proof that it was her, showing her a video you recorded from your earlier conversation that it’s taken completely out of context and makes it seems like all you’re saying is the truth!! and how is tzuyu supposed to not believe you? there’s proof, you’ve always been such a good friend, for years, you would never lie to her… right?

and so it begins, part of your days you fuck nayeon like there’s no tomorrow and the others you take tzuyu in your arms and reassure her it’s okay, everything it’s gonna be okay, she can trust you and you’ll solve things for her! and you don’t even need to blackmail her into giving herself to you as your nights together turn into shushing her crying to cuddling to making out and eventually to sex and dating, she just grows attached to you… i mean, you’re so nice, she’s even a little embarrassed of how fast her feelings evolved. she freely chooses to undress for you and let you touch her, so pretty, muttering “thank you” repeatedly while going up and down, creaming all over your strap, and you being the manipulative ass you are, saying you will never, ever, let something bad happen to her :( like, she has no idea… and you can totally corrupt her because deep down she has this desire to please you as a form of thanking you so she accepts everything, it’s consensual, but there are things she wouldn’t accept with other people in other situations.

so yeah, she distances herself from nayeon disappointed and disgusted and you always make sure to ask her “did she bother you today, love?” and the answer is always no, obviously, but she thinks it’s because you’ve talked to her and put her in place or whatever… they just have no idea you’re messing with them both.

the end to this situation is pretty… open, i think, but i like to imagine that you stop using nayeon as soon as you fuck tzuyu and starts dating her, because again, you would never, ever hurt your babygirl, and that includes cheating, and she’s hurt for real, going after you, but again you manage to twist the situation, making her believe it was her who begged to be fucked.

#asks #twice smut #nayeon smut #tzuyu smut #☕️ anon #cw: blackmail

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heartssatoru · 11 months

Note

I honestly love your writing sm! 💖 Could you do one of the jjk men and how they comfort reader on a bad day? 🥺 Like when they get quieter and more distant than usual

Awhhwfbbdh thank you so much it means a lot! And of course thank you for the request!

Characters: gojo, geto, sukuna, megumi, yuji.

Warnings: Just fluff!

Gojo

If you were to have a bad day he most likely would easily be able to tell.

He'd tease you a bit but if you were to get upset even more he'd stop

Would ask if you needed anything, if you did then he'd buy it or get it

Would cuddle you! He wants you to get rest and feel relaxed because you had a bad day

If your moody he finds it amusing. But of course he doesn't wanna make you even more upset.

Will spoil you though, name anything and he'll buy it. No matter how expensive it is.

Also if you need personal space then he'll give you it!

Won't pressure you cause he understands! Probably makes a few jokes to try and make you laugh

Doesn't work though😭

However he does try his best to make you feel better i promise

Geto

If it was someone who made you have a bad day then he'll resort to violence

Cause how dare them??? Who do they think they are.

Howeverr if you tell him not to then he'll probably still do it. But reassure you he won't

Liar

and probably kills that person who made you have a bad day in the worse way possible

Will convince you that the smell of blood is just your imagination

Gaslighter at its finest

Anyway if it wasnt a person then he'll try and help you feel better.

Personally I take him as the type to know how to comfort

So I think with him you'd probably be feeling a lot better in no time!

Will cuddle you, watch movies with you, whatever makes you happy really

Will not let you go until your feeling a bit better from your bad day

Will comfort you with sweet words, cuddles, flowers. Whatever you need!

Takes you on walks at night too, cause he sees it as a date

Jokes around a bit but knows when too stop😭

Sukuna

At first he would laugh at you cause like, what do you expect from him

In his mindset why would he comfort a human. The king of curses comforting a human is ridiculous

Will laugh even more if its because he said something that really got to you

Calls you sensitive and stuff, and when you give him silent treatment he finds it funny

Untill you completely start ignoring him and stuff. Because that's just boring

If he were to comfort you itd most definitely come out as sarcastic

And its hard to tell if he means it or not

But for the most part if you really do stop giving him entrainment then he'll do something about it

Acts like he doesn't wanna be near you but does. However he'll never admit that

Akaward. And thats easy to tell. Thats probably what has you laughing and stuff

He would make awkward expressions without even realizing😭

And would get mad offended when you'd laugh too

for him you'd probably just be sitting on his lap or something. Be grateful you even get this chance

Says him

Secretly enjoys when you fall asleep on his lap whiling your clinging onto him

And lowkey secretly wants to be in control of yujis self more cause he wants to see you more often

Megumi

Awkward for sure, he doesn't even know how to comfort his own self

But since its you he'll try cause he loves you and cares for you

Asks gojo for help, and of course gojo gives the worst advice.

Tries to tell jokes while having a straight face. Confused when you laugh

Does feel bad though, cause he feels he's not doing enough

All he wants is really just to see a smile on your face again so he tries whatever he could think of

This time not trusting gojo of course

Moon watching with him or something until you fall asleep on his lap.

Either your playing with his hair or hes playing with yours

Overall pretty chill and comforting. Smiles when you fall asleep sometimes.

Yuji

He thinks he knows how to comfort you, but probably really doesn't

Tells the worst jokes and expects you to laugh☠ and then tells you how your supposed to laugh

If that doesn't work then he'll try his hardest to get a smile on your face

Bad day because you couldn't get work done on time? He'll help you (he probably doesn't understand one bit)

Bad day because of someone? How to curse someone on his google search history

Cuddles you while playing with your hair, but do expect sukuna to throw insults at both of you

(Hes jealous)

Also with that being said do expect for sukuna to randomly be in control

Says cheesy comforting stuff but them gets serious and actually comforts you

Genuinely though tries his best to make you smile and gets a bit upset when you don't

But he's not gonna force you too of course! He'll still try though and won't give up.

Guys my allergies are so bad oh my god😭😭

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x reader #megumi x reader #yuji x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #itadori x reader #suguru x reader #Sukuna x reader fluff #Itadori x reader fluff #Yuji x reader fluff #Geto x reader fluff #Suguru x reader fluff #Gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #Satoru x reader fluff

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dreorig · 9 months

Text

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Can you see what I see?

You and Eddie have been friends for a while now, but you never told him about your schizophrenia as you thought that was unnecessary — until you saw Eddie talking to an alien head attached to his shoulder.

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: i'm on the schizophrenic spectrum and this is self indulgent, sorry not sorry. sometimes i see things that you're not supposed to see and i just fuck with it, which made me think that i wouldn't really freak out seeing venom. and now we're here. there's no smut or anything but eddie's a bottom i gotta say (i feel it in my heart). it's mostly silly because we might face the horrors™ but we stay silly. enjoy heheh :)

You had decided to visit a new friend of yours (possibly a crush?), Eddie Brock. It's not like you had anything better to do.

Approaching his door, you just pushed it open, knowing such formalities as knocking on the door were inexistent between you both already. Right away you saw Eddie sitting on the couch, playing what was undoubtedly Yakuza — handsome and with a good taste in games, of course you wanted to kiss him each time you caught yourself staring at him. Oh, he also had a weird alien-looking head popping out of his shoulder talking about a delicious brain it had eaten once. You just shrugged.

"Hi, Eddie!" you closed the door behind you, walking towards the kitchen in hope of finding a clean glass because you were thirsty as hell. "Dear God, this house is a mess! Mine's probably worse, though."

Hey, you found the glass!

"Y/N, what are you doing here?!" Eddie asked with a very alarmed voice, following you.

"Eat him!" you heard the head shout.

"Stop that already! He's my friend! I'm not eating him!"

You stared in confusion as you saw Eddie arguing with the head. You leaned against the wall, rather bored, waiting for it to go away. You sipped your water instead of saying anything, perhaps that cold water was just what you needed. Eddie didn't need to get dragged into the mess that was your mind. Just a little bit and the hallucination would go away.

Eddie suddenly stopped saying anything, unlike the head, and looked at you in some sort of shock, which was cool because it looked like you were finally slipping back into reality and seeing what Eddie was really doing and saying.

Wait— shit, if Eddie was staring at you like that then maybe you said something without noticing? It was okay, you could just play it cool. You smiled and raised your cup, "What? Can't a guy drink his friend's water?"

"You… you're not scared?" Eddie asked, looking like he had seen a ghost.

Oh, okay, you definitely muttered something about your hallucination without noticing. What good would it do trying to gaslight him into believing you said nothing now? You should just say the truth.

"Nah, not really. Years ago I would be but it's just a part of my everyday life now. Nothing to worry about. Sorry if I scared you."

"Y/N, I don't—"

"You? Scary? He's funny, Eddie. I told you to not eat him."

You began, completely ignoring Eddie and looking at the head, "Look,— can't believe I'm arguing with an alien head that is not even real— most people are just normal with normal minds and normal thoughts, like Eddie. What normal person wouldn't be alarmed if I suddenly said I'm seeing a freaking alien head attached to him out of the blue? It's not even like I'm a cool dude with abilities that let me talk to ghosts like Norman or anything, you're just another hallucination."

Now imagine how confused poor Eddie was. Hallucinations? Normal people? Eddie being a normal person? Who even was Norman? He wanted to understand what was going on but with you and Venom arguing it was almost impossible.

"I'm real! And I'm not an alien!" the head shouted, sounding very insulted. "I take it back, let's eat him!"

Eddie has had enough, so he tried his best to just whisper, "Venom, would you just shut up for once and let us talk?!'

"Fine, but keep it in mind that if he offends me again I'll rip him apart and eat his brain with chopsticks!"

You stuck your tongue out to the alien as childish as you could and it did the same — why was its tongue so long?!

Eddie just sighed as Venom finally disappeared. He was really confused. What were you talking about? Were you an agent? Perhaps you had your own symbiote? Could be the only reasons why you weren't scared at all. He got closer to you, putting his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes.

"Y/N, you're not scared of what you saw, right?"

"Nope."

"And you've seen it before?"

"Yep."

"Then you know what it is, right?"

"Duhh, of course. Another hallucination of mine."

"You have hallucinations?"

"Yeah," you chucked. "Every now and then. It's not a symptom that affects me too much, though."

"Symptom?" he tilted his head. "Of what?"

"Oh well, I haven't told you but I have schizophrenia. Before you say anything, I swear that I'm not violent or a threat and that's just some really hurtful prejudice people still have against us that—"

"Y/N," Eddie released your shoulders to hold your hands. "Right now, I'm the last person who could say anything. And honestly, It's not something that bothers me in the slightest."

"Hah, he's insane just like you, Eddie!"

You put a hand on your hip, pointing a finger to nowhere specific, "Hey, you! I don't know where you are but don't you talk about Eddie like that!"

"Ah, so…" Eddie cracked an embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid he's kind of right, I'm not the most sane person at all. And that's why I was so shocked when you opened the door."

"He? What," your eyes widened. "Dude, so you really heard that voice, too?! And I'm just not hallucinating you arguing with that head?!"

"I did, yes. Now you understand my surprise in seeing you? I know what I'm going to tell you sounds like a very crazy story but you gotta believe me."

"Man, haven't I just told you I'm a schizo? Nothing sounds crazy to me. Spit it out because now I'm hella curious."

Eddie hardly knew how to behave. You were the first person to see him talking to his symbiote without thinking he was completely insane and screaming or paralysing after seeing Venom himself. In fact, you looked like a child who was very excited to hear what cool story his parents had to tell him this time.

"What you saw is a symbiote, his name is Venom and we're… kind of bonded. You see, he needs a host and that's how I ended up in this position. I won't hurt you— hell, I'd never. You just can't tell this to anyone, please."

"That's so cool, dude!" You grinned wide. "You don't sweat it, my mouth is sealed! Do you mind if I ask you a few things?"

"It's the least I could do." He chuckled. "Go on."

"You control the symbiote?"

"Not exactly? It's more of a mutual work. Although he takes control over me sometimes, this stubborn creature."

"You're just too soft, Eddie! I gotta do everything myself!"

Only then you remembered the symbiote could talk. You asked, "Hey, Venom, would you mind showing up? Please?"

"Ohh, then Eddie says the same I did and now you suddenly think I'm real? Don't feel like doing so."

"Oh, c'mon! Pretty please? I wanna apologise."

Within seconds Eddie was completely enveloped by the tall and imposing symbiote, who crossed his arms. "You better."

You were beaming with happiness. What a magnificent day. When would you be able to look at a symbiote so closely again?

"Venom, buddy, you're amazing! Truly! I'm sorry for calling you an alien and doubting your existence. You must understand I'm a little out of touch with reality sometimes and I thought you were part of this mess. Now I'm very aware of who you are, though. Are we okay?" you offered Venom a hand shake.

Instead of shaking your hand, he picked you up and hugged you tight. "Hah, I like you, little man! No wonder why Eddie wants you to kiss him."

As if you weren't already happy enough. You smirked, "He does?"

"He does!"

Eddie could advocate for himself but he was so embarrassed that now he preferred being in full Venom mode, this way you wouldn't see his clearly red face.

"Venom, would you mind letting me see Eddie again? Please? I need his help with something."

"More like he needs your help."

Venom let go of you, then just like he had appeared, he disappeared and Eddie was the one in front of you again. He looked so cute with his flustered face that for a moment all you could think about was how even cuter he would look bouncing on your cock.

"Hi, Eddie. Heard you wanted me to kiss you," you took a step closer, having your face just a few inches away from his.

"I- I mean… perhaps? Maybe. I do, yes. Only if you want," Eddie avoided your gaze when he mumbled.

You held his waist and gently pushed him against the island, making Eddie gasp softly when his back hit the cold marble of the countertop.

"Oh, I do. I want to kiss your hands, your forehead, your cheeks, your neck and, last but not least, your lips. I want to kiss you everywhere. And do a few more things other than that if you allow me to."

Eddie felt his hands shake in anticipation as he wrapped them around your neck and closed his eyes. "Fuck, yes, please."

You chuckled before finally leaning in to kiss Eddie.

#ak.writes #eddie brock.#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x male reader #venom x male reader

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bull-shit-suji · 24 days

Text

kuro modern au stuff that i word vomited into my notes app

kind of a Vincent summoned sebastian to save ciel so ciel doesnt actually owe sebas anything

amnesia? idk

single dad moment! except theres this other dad whos kinda find.. (cough agni)

i think vincent was like do NOT let ciel know ur a demon so sebastian keeps it a secret but he doesnt have a good handle on like. Humans. so he kinda does a bad job and ciel definitely knows that he's weird but doesnt say anything. will go out of his way to gaslight you when sebastian does weird shit because he thinks its funny

"hey uhh is your dad levitating?"

"no?"

"he's flying above the school rn"

"that's a bird"

u think suddenly being a butler is hard? have fun being a dad bitch

alois is there but thats complicated. claude and hannah are DIVORCED but on decent terms (i think claude is like. toxic alpha male podcast type guy) and claude sees alois on alternating weekends!

are they demons? i dont know

i think ciel and alois can be friends. platonically. alois would probably say yes if ciel wanted to be romantic but i Promise you he does not. they are just pals :)

im saying ciel has a crush on elizabeth because i can (she's not his cousin here). emo boy x sunny church girl. said sunny church girl has to ask the mcdonalds employees for the blue raspberry slushie they forgot to put in ciel's order because emo boy is too scared.

IM 13 EVERYTHING SUCKSSSSS

grelle is actually living her best life transitioned with anne so they are ciel's aunts on his late mom's side. i think grelle likes ciel. mom figure moreso than anne is.

ciel owns four bongs and definitely a vape or two. come on now

he's also probably got celiac and is lactose intolerant he is just a feeble boy i think

he listens to twenty one pilots. sorry! sorry.

ciel is goth alois is punk those r kinda just the rules

ciel is insanely smart top of the class this shit is easy for him.

yells at sebastian daily. figured out what happened with his real parents around the age of uhhhh 12 or 13? has been an absolute terror ever since

"it was really nice of your dad to bring cookies for the field trip!"

"i hope he fucking chokes on one"

"oh!"

sebastian and claude are pta rivals.

"is this lemon bread store bought? my, how... efficient!"

"you made these from scratch? i can tell."

"i've never seen an interesting looking salsa! very exciting."

ciel purposefully invites alois over constantly bcus it pisses sebas off. alois is Terrified of that man.

"go grab the chips from the kitchen"

"but... what if mr michaelis is in there?"

"mr m- you mean my dad? tell him he can shove a faucet up his ass"

"id rather die on the spot"

sebastian will yell at ciel and is maybe a little emotionally unavailable but he's trying!!! it's hard :(

does that Dad thing where he comes into ciels room and is like hey bud......... what r u up to..

ciel and seiglinde r also palls. the smartest people in school

lizzie is a JOCK. she plays softball.

alois is a theater kid come on now

ciel is best at writing and literature analysis, specifically fiction. enjoys history, language, and Some sciences as well.

nerd

au where myspace is still a thing ciel has a myspace account

he definitely writes shitty poetry

wants to major in business

alois is a glee and pitch perfect truther

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always-andromeda · 8 months

Text

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐋'𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Jeff (Gone Girl) x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3197

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ “Tell me you want me back. Tell me I'm forgiven.” + the toxic exes trope

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ listen, I know this dirtbag had probably a whopping four minutes of screen time in Gone Girl but it's Boyd and I love a good scruffy Boyd character. I'm weak for greasy men, sue me (please don't I would never financially recover).

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), vaginal sex, slight overstimulation, mentions of jail, alcohol, and cigarettes, pet names (princess, honey, girl), Jeff is lowkey super manipulative and kind of gaslight-y lmao (please understand that this is fiction and I do not condone that kind of behavior in real life), sliiiight mentions of pregnancy lmao, that's all I can think of! let me know if I need to add more!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

Absentmindedly you watched your neighbor Darlene's television. With a thin layer of static warping the picture, you were hardly motivated to follow the plot of the true crime show that played out. So when Darlene spoke from her place on the other side of her couch, it caught your attention quickly.

“You hear Jeff's back in town?” she asked thickly as she took a puff from her cigarette.

Though she was hardly one for pulling your leg, you held your breath and answered wearily, "You're joking, right?"

Darlene simply laughed snidely before answering, "Folks are already sayin' he got let out on good behavior."

"Bullshit," you spoke through your teeth.

"Amen, sister." Then she added with a nod in your direction, "What the hell are you gonna do when he comes sniffin' around again?"

"He should know better than that by now."

"But he doesn't. He's a fuckin' idiot. You should know that better by now," Darlene shot you a look that was meant to be patronizing.

You rolled your eyes and insisted, "He ain't gettin' any more of my time than he's already gotten. If he knows what's good for him, he'll give it up."

"We're talking about the man who robbed the same liquor store three times? Same motherfucker, right?"

You snorted, "I never said he's the sharpest tool in the shed..."

"That's a fuckin' understatement. Honey, the Lord poured his brains in with a teaspoon and somebody joggled his arm."

Now that made you double over with laughter. But obviously Darlene didn't find her joke nearly as funny as you did. Because once you recovered, getting out the last of your wheezes and catching your breath, she moved her cigarette from one hand to the other and laid the free one over your knee.

Her touch was firm, the seriousness of the situation saturating her tone. She knew better than anyone in the park how Jeff had stomped on your soul over and over again. She'd been there for the sleepless nights when your entire being was wracked with sobs and shakes over him. He wouldn't talk to you. He cheated again. He ran off. Going to jail for petty theft was your last straw.

You were only a handful of months removed from the day you vowed to Darlene that you weren't calling or sending him letters anymore. And she knew just as well as you that it was for your own good that you didn't underestimate his gravitational pull.

"Don't let him in, honey," she spoke softly. "He's just gonna to break your heart again."

With the smoke from her cigarette wafting above your heads and your eyes already starting to water, you blinked quickly and nodded even faster. Darlene removed her hand and went back to staring at the television screen. You tried your best to shake her words off, to forget that weary look in her eye that said she didn't quite believe your conviction.

So you cleared your throat and fiddled with your fingers before awkwardly declaring, "You should get Travis to straighten out your antennae. Can hardly see that John Walsh through the static." And you zoned out as Darlene grumbled about how she'd asked that husband of hers to fix it ages ago.

You tried not to give a shit about what Darlene thought about you or Jeff. He wasn't good, no. But she didn't know him like you did. Nobody did. Not even Jeff himself.

It was three days after that when Jeff showed up. And you tried to ignore it, you really did. The second you peeked out your kitchen window and caught a glimpse of his beat up Ford pickup pulling into your driveway you rushed around the trailer drawing the curtains quickly before sitting cross legged on your couch and lowering the volume on your television.

Your hand shook around the remote. He'd pound on the door and you'd chew on the inside of your cheek just hoping he'd take the goddamn hint.

"C'mon, darlin'. I know you're in there. Keith told me you had today off," came his voice calling from the other side of your trailer door. You couldn't ignore that. He would never let you ignore it.

Throwing the remote aside, you stormed towards the door and opened it. As soon as he was presented with an entrance, Jeff was eager to use it, forcing his way in and attaching his lips to your neck.

For a split second you leaned into it and let him get the chance to really sink his teeth in. And fuck, it felt fantastic to have him near you again. It was the painful burn of moonshine and the comforting warmth that flooded your chest afterwards. And you had to quit before he got the chance to destroy you again.

You pushed him away, glad that the first sound he heard from you is one of disgust instead of a moan.

Jeff chuckled lowly, "Well, nice to see you too, princess."

You returned the once over that he gave you. You didn't even know what you were searching for. He'd hardly changed. The smell of cigarette smoke on him was only slightly masked by cheap soap and a bit of his musk. And that damn sleeveless denim button-up exposed a little too much of his chest for your liking. Not only that but it showed off his broad shoulders and toned arms. They're marked with tattoos that you'd once memorized the lines of. The sight of them now made your throat ache with some sort of nostalgia.

"What are you doing here?" you managed to ask.

Jeff stared back at you with a strange expression. "To see you. Why else would I be here?" Then, with open arms he added, "I'm home. Ain't that good enough?"

You shook your head and scoffed, "No, absolutely not. This isn't your home–"

"Since when did you kick me out?"

"Since you got yourself thrown in jail, Jeff. Since I stopped talking to you. Since right now, where I'm telling you that we aren't together anymore."

To your surprise, Jeff merely clicked his tongue and shook his head before looking back up at you with those baby blue eyes that were always primed to get exactly what they wanted out of you. "You know, you've always been good at workin' yourself up over nothin'. Somethin' tells me you're just confused. And once I get you back in that bedroom, I'll straighten you out. How's that sound?"

You wanted to be angry. Hell, you wanted to scream and pound on his chest until he finally got the message that you didn't need him anymore. Darlene's concern surfaced in your mind. But the growing hum between your legs was louder than any sort of rationality that Darlene could've inspired within you. And bigger than that...his words hit harder than you thought they would and he knew it.

He smiles slyly before encroaching your personal space again. "C'mon, princess, tell me you want me back. Tell me I'm forgiven. And I'll take care of you again, just like I always do," his breath is warm against your lips and his grip on your hips steady like an anchor. He keeps you from swaying too much. Because you feel like you could faint at the promise of intimacy with him again.

You missed it. You weren't afraid to admit it to yourself. You missed him.

You missed sharing cigarettes in the bed of his truck as you both stared up at the stars. You missed him stealing kisses (and other, more devious touches) when your manager wasn't looking as you waited tables. You missed waking up in the morning. The momentary panic as you'd feel around for him behind you. Then the flood of relief when you'd feel his solid body; when you'd feel him stir and pull you back into his arms. As much as you hated the sound of it, you missed feeling like you belonged with him. You missed that unwarranted pride that used to swell in your chest knowing that no matter how much trouble he'd get himself into, he'd always come crawling back home to you.

That was the thing that made you fold. The thought that made you kiss him softly and murmur, "I forgive you."

It didn't stay soft; things rarely did when they involved Jeff. His fingers dug into your thighs greedily but made their way to your backside as you straddled him. It was so easy to fall into the pattern you'd once had with him. Whether it was in his truck, the back alley of a bar, the bathroom at your work, or the bedroom you'd once shared with him, Jeff was always the same. Always equal parts cocky but needy.

He'd keep you firmly in place on your lap and roll his hips, sending a shock wave directly to your core that made you squirm for more friction.

"You gettin' frustrated already, girl? You can't be patient for me?"

Then the next breath he'd take was closer to a gasp as you nipped and licked at his Adam's apple. The taste of his skin was lace with the salt of sweat and the burn of bourbon with none of the sweetness. Maybe that's what you liked most about being with him. He was infuriating, yes. But he was straight forward. He didn't try to hide all of his awfulness from you. And part of you wondered if he only allowed you to see it because you accepted it.

Either way, it was worth it. It was worth the heartbreak to hear the sound of him groaning while you worked him up.

"Says the man who jumped my bones the second he got home," you giggled.

"What can I say? I missed ya'."

"I think you missed something in particular about me more than anything else," you eyed him teasingly.

Adorned with that southern charm, he reproached you, "Oh, princess. I missed all of you. Missed those eyes, that smile..." he trailed off with a suggestive look, " how those pretty lips–"

You smacked his shoulder before he could finish the thought.

Jeff only laughed then continued, "But, yes, if you're really dyin' to hear it. I think I missed that pussy of yours terribly. Missed stretchin' it out and hearin' you scream. Missed makin' it all wet. I think she was prettiest like that. All puffy and beggin' to be filled."

Every word fell from his lips low and slow like honey. And it only served to glue up your insides and make your head heavy with the weight over overwhelming arousal.

"Aww," Jeff pulled back your bottom lip lamely with his thumb before letting it snap back in place; just another sign of how thoroughly you were wrapped around his finger. "Look at how worked up my girl is. So dumb and she hasn't even been fucked yet. You're adorable, princess. How about we get you out of those clothes, hm?"

You nodded quickly. Jeff tapped your ass and you were on your feet, working to shed your too tight jeans and the shirt that was rubbing uncomfortably at your hardened nipples. It wasn't a graceful display, but Jeff wasn't making an effort either as he leaned back slightly and unbuckled his belt before swiftly pulling himself out.

You'd forgotten how enticing his cock was to look at. He wasn't the biggest or the thickest you'd ever seen, but that didn't matter. What made sparks erupt inside of you was that slight curve. You knew just how that groove felt when it was inside of you and nothing excited you more than when you were back on his lap.

Taking a hold of his length, you slowed when Jeff hissed sharply. "Gotta be gentle on me now, alright? Been almost a year since I've had you and I'm not bustin' a load before I can make you come, you hear me?"

Once again, you nodded. And Jeff smirked, pleased at your compliance.

Lining him up and lowering down, you both breathed in deeply once you were slotted together again. Judging by the way he squeezed his eyes shut and gripped your thighs, you knew he was right at home buried inside you again.

With a sob at the edge of his tone and his forehead pressed against yours, he whispered, "Fuck, I missed you so much, honey." It was so soft that you doubted he'd repeat the admission.

And you figured right. Not even seconds after you got the feeling that he was simply enjoying your presence, Jeff was moving your hips, slightly thrusting into you. You matched his pace, bouncing on the balls of your feet and grabbing his shoulders for support on the lumpy mattress.

That mattress had been witness to many fucks. But this one was probably your favorite of them all with the way Jeff was breathing deeply and pressing the occasional messy kiss to your swollen lips. And before too long, Jeff took over almost entirely as he quickened the pace.

"Thought you wanted to go slow?" you whimpered. "I'm not quite there yet, Jeff, I–"

"Then hurry up, I'm gettin' close." Nearly out of breath, he moaned, "Fuuuuck, I need it. I need to come inside you, princess. Need to fill you up. Need you to be mine."

This was a side of him you'd only seen a few times before. The sloppiness of his ruts and his solid hold on your body; he was desperate. And he only ever got like that when he was worried he was losing you. He'd fuck you like it was the last time he'd be able to. Like he was dedicating every last sensation from your smell to your sound to your touch to his mind.

As much as it worried you, you were adamant to reach your own high. You reached down and began to quickly circle your clit with a deft hand. All those nights without him...you'd gotten real good at getting yourself to the edge on your own.

"That's it, baby, touch yourself for me. Make a mess on me," Jeff begged.

At this point, he was thrusting so deep that the curve of his cock was brushing right at the sensitive, spongy bit deep inside of you. The place that made you throw your head back with a strangled cry as the invisible electricity of your climax overpowered your being. Jeff followed soon after, his spend painting your walls as they fluttered weakly. With a few more weak ruts as he was emptying out the last of himself inside, you were whimpering from the overstimulation.

But Jeff had never been merciful. "C'mon, baby, you can take it. I've got ya," he mumbled. When you pressed your face into his shoulder, he held you by the nape of your neck and kept you in place until he was satisfied.

After he finally let you go, you rose on shaky legs to retreat to your bathroom for cleanup. But you lose yourself looking in the mirror. You caught the thin sheen of sweat covering your skin and the goosebumps that were now erupting over it in the cool bathroom. You were a tangled up mess. And all you had to show for it was messy hair, the remnants of your mascara smeared under your eyes, and a dull soreness between your legs. He'd fucked you so well that if he went back to jail the next day, you were sure you'd be satiated until the next time he came back. You tried not to linger on the thought for too long.

You flicked off the bathroom light and padded back into the bedroom where Jeff laid, arms folded behind his head lazily on his pillow. Settling down beside him carefully, Jeff was quick to pull you towards him. For a few seconds there was quiet. Just the sound of crickets and country music playing faintly from a radio from some other trailer.

"You're still mine, right?" he asked out of nowhere.

Your body and your mind spent, you were exhausted. Your eyelids threatened to give up on you any second. And you barely heard what he'd said. But this configuration was familiar enough that you let out a weak hum before nuzzling closer into his side, figuring it was a satisfactory response.

You'd never know if it was though. Because the last piece of Jeff you'd get before falling asleep was the feeling of his lips leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Nearly two months went by. You hadn't heard from him. Because of course you hadn't. You'd simply woken up the morning after he came back home, felt around the bed behind you for a few seconds only to be met with nothing. The sheets on his side were still warm. Like he'd slipped away just for a second. But for all you knew he was halfway across the country with a different woman of the hour, dreaming up new methods to rob tourists. Frankly, you didn't care.

There were no tears left for you to shed. Just that thunderous guilt that made you feel so stupid for falling for his bullshit all over again. But you couldn't even chastise yourself for the lapse in judgment for too long. There was something far more pressing on your mind.

Your period was late. And it was almost comical. You weren't stupid. You didn't need to waste the money on a pregnancy test. You could put two and two together yourself. Unfortunately, two and two added up to a pregnancy you were already attempting to ignore.

However, it wouldn't let you. Every single night you laid a hand over your stomach as if it were old enough to kick. If you were quiet and still enough, you could convince yourself that you felt it thrumming with life as it floated in amniotic fluid. It had only existed for a few weeks and already it was taking on the dread-inducing nagging of its father.

It scared the shit out of you; scared you more than Jeff ever had. But it was in the darkness of the night when you felt Jeff's absence most that you heard the call of the void. You envisioned a future with this baby where neither of you had to be afraid of him.

Instead, there were summer barbecues at the trailer park, you and Darlene sipping cold ones while your baby played in the grass. There were trips to the laundromat down the street, you holding your baby up so they could count out the change to put in the machine. There were tearful first days of school and homework scattered on your coffee table. You'd work late some nights and you wouldn't always be able to afford the newest toys and clothes. But you'd do your best. And you'd love them.

You'd love them the way that Jeff could never love anything. You'd do it all on your own if you had to. So, as you stood on the edge of the cliff, you decided you'd take the plunge.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#hauntedhoedown #jeff gone girl x reader #jeff gone girl x you #jeff gone girl x y/n #jeff gone girl smut #boyd holbrook #boyd holbrook x reader #boyd holbrook x you #boyd bolbrook x y/n

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