#american psycho x reader

[makeyoumine69]

Good Morning my love, I hope you're feeling better <3 if you're could you please write readers dad's best friend Patrick X submissive reader who does what she's told until it comes to Patrick that one day she's home alone and her dad has gone out to work while Patrick and the reader is all alone in the house, making Patrick a coffee he stands behind her and whispers dirty things in her ear making heat creep up her neck💗I love you ma'am, thank you for being you!💗

— PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

— A/N: My dear, thank you so much for your kind words and your request! I hope you like it! I really couldn't help it! 🖤

— LINKS: [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST] 

God, you shouldn't have stayed alone with him, you knew you shouldn't, but you stayed, feeling yourself burning like a match just by looking at him.

With his natural haughty smile, Bateman asked you for coffee, and a good girl like you couldn't refuse his offer. He caught you in the kitchen just as you were about to ask him if he wanted some low-calorie cream.

"What is it, baby girl?" His velvety voice flowed through your body like a hot chocolate you drank a few hours ago.

"Mr. B-Bateman, I was just about to ask you if you wanted me to -" You gasped as he pushed you a little harder against the counter, the big bulge in his pants brushing teasingly against your hips, making you lose your ability to think, to speak, to breathe.

"C'mon, honey," he purred directly into your ear, tickling your sensitive skin with his hot breath. "Don't be shy."

Panting audibly, you turned around to face him and almost immediately regretted it - his brown eyes were so mesmerizing that your mind was about to collapse. "Would you like me to put some cream in your coffee, sir?"

Patrick chuckled before tracing his long finger across your cheek, but you recoiled as if he had given you an electric shock. "Cream would be nice."

Fuck, the way he said that sounded so nasty and sinful that your legs were about to give way while your heart wanted to jump out of your chest. Bateman couldn't take his eyes off your embarrassingly cute face, his digit now roaming over your clavicle, before he finally reached your shaped breasts.

"Mmm, I didn't know girls as innocent as you didn't wear bras." He mused, pinching one of your nipples, causing your whole body to shake.

"S-stop," you closed your eyes and tried to pull his hand away, but he only pressed you harder against the counter behind you. "Mr. Bateman, mhmm!"

A quick move and his warm, pouty lips were on yours, kissing them hungrily, while his large palms were busy caressing your juicy tits. Fuck, no one had ever touched you like this before, so when Patrick slid his hand under your t-shirt, a loud moan broke out from your lips and he used that moment to shove his tongue into your mouth.

"Mmm, I can't believe your father was hiding you from me for so long," Bateman murmured as he nuzzled your neck, shamelessly groping your hips and making you almost go limp in his strong arms. "Now be a good girl and show me where your room is. Daddy wants to play with you, little one."

[sourbvgs]

...𝙝𝙪𝙜?

patrick bateman x reader

summary: you want to show him how much you care.

tags: established relationship, short fic, pda, patrick might be ooc, i hc he’s going to therapy and living his best life 🤩

✧─── ★: *.✦ .* :★ ───✧

your job was somewhat difficult, yet you loved it. patrick, your lover and coworker, was always nearby. he would hover awkwardly, sometimes placing a hand upon your back when you were talking to others. you were waiting beside the printer, watching your essay being printed. patrick was stood nearby, clicking some buttons upon his walkman. you look to him, he looks kind of bored, but you know that’s just his resting face and that he’s absorbed in fiddling with his new walkman. you had gotten it for his birthday, and he had smiled brightly. your essay was only halfway printed, and you knew if you left someone would either take or shred your paper. patrick puts his walkman into his pocket, observing a newly bought painting that was decorating the hallway. you look over to him with a smile, adoring how he looked. you always felt so lucky to be able to call him yours.

“patty.” you call his name, and he looks to you. smiling, you extend your hand and he glances to it. “c’mere…” you beckon him over, and patrick steps closer, letting you intertwine your fingers with his. you let your arm press to his, squeezing his hand. the two of you never really expressed pda, but hand holding was okay for him. eventually, you rest your head to his shoulder, other hand cradling his wrist. patrick squeezes your hand a little, growing a little anxious. your fingers massage his wrist, just below his very expensive watch. your essay was almost finished printing, yet you didn’t really care. “patrick…” you mutter, pulling his attention from his music. “yes?” he asks, very deadpan.

“hug?” you smile, opening your arms up for him. patrick blinks, hesitating for a moment. “…okay.” patrick responds, wrapping his arms around you. you hug him tight, resting your head to his shoulder. patrick sits quietly, glaring at anyone who would walk past. eventually, you sway with patrick slightly, hands running circles over his back. your boyfriend sighs a little, relaxing further into your grip. you both didn’t really express much physical love outside of sex, but you always wanted to be a little sweet on patrick. you wanted to show him how much you loved him outside of little notes beside his lunch or soft words when he slept.

“i love you, patrick.” you mutter to him, and he hums softly. “i love you too…” he responds, voice hesitating. “i love you more.” you grin at him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “your essay is finished…” patrick flusters, looking away from you. “alright, sweetie. love you.” you giggle, kissing his flustered cheek once more. just before you can turn away, he steals a quick kiss from your lips and separating from you. you give patrick a soft smile, collecting your essay. carefully tucking your essay under your arm, you hold patrick’s hand as the two of you walk through the office. he squeezes a little, pushing his headphone over his ear once more as he zones out, gripping your hand tightly.

[multific]

Protective Father

Patrick Bateman x Reader

Summary: Patrick was always extremely protective of you, you thought that was too much, then you gave birth.

A/N: This is a little follow-up to my headcanons, requested by a lovely person. 

“I’d kill anyone who even dares to look at the two of you in a bad way.” he confessed one night as the two of you were on the couch, his hand on your stomach. You read a book as he spoke to your baby.

“Aww! Patrick, thank you.” you fully knew he was serious but there was a spark in his eyes that you loved and so you kissed him.

When your son learned how to walk is when the real struggle began for Patrick.

He was on the heels of the baby all the time, even protecting him from flies. Before he could walk, Patrick would carry him everywhere. Barely letting him go for a moment.

When your son learned how to run is when the ultimate struggle began for Patrick.

You try to tell him that it was OK, that your son is going to be fine, nothing can hurt him but you also know your husband and you knew that he was not going to stop just because you asked him nicely once.

So just as your little boy started to grow so did your husband's worries and slowly but surely he became overprotective.

There were times even when you were at the park just taking a simple walk letting your baby run and play around, one time, he fell off of a swing which worried Patrick so incredibly that you have never seen him panic more than that day. But the icing on the cake was that your son wasn't even hurt, he just cried a little because he got scared but he was perfectly fine he even got ice cream after it.

But you will never forget the panic in Patrick when he ran as fast as he could to his son to help him up.

Even if little Richard wasn't hurt, Patrick couldn't let it go, he wanted to be 100% sure his son wasn't hurt and that he had everything he needed.

You often saw this as spoiling him, you didn't want your son to become a brat, but you understood where Patrick was coming from, the little boy was too precious. 

And this is exactly what you expected from Patrick Bateman himself.

A father who spoils their child. 

You had your baby on your hip, he was super interested in you cooking dinner, so he was your little helper.

Although mostly he just asked for juice or to taste something, with Richard being five, you wanted to show him the world as much as possible. And he seemed to be very interested in cooking and baking.

You put him on the counter when you needed to cut something. You taught him not to touch anything on the oven, you taught him it would hurt and he was an intelligent little man, so he never even tried.

"What are you two doing?" asked Patrick behind you.

"Dinner." you said as you stirred the pot, out of the corner of your eye you noticed Patrick pulling your son just a bit further away from the stove. You wanted to roll your eyes but you only smiled as you looked at them. "I'm almost ready, can you set the table please?"

And surely they did. You turned off the stove when you heard your son whine.

"Richard, let me do it, you might hurt yourself." you heard Patrick before you pocked your head out and saw your son with the forks in his tiny hand, holding on for dear life.

"I wanna." he said and you wanted to laugh, but you also wanted to see how Patrick will handle this.

He let out a long sigh. "You will hurt yourself, let Daddy do this."

"No." he was just as stubborn as your husband. Tiny knuckles turning white as he held the forks as if his life depended on them. 

"Okay, then let's do it together?" Patrick ended up offering since he knew he wouldn't get through to Richard.

You smiled at the cute scene as Patrick lifted his son and helped him, trying to teach him a little about where and how to place utensils, but all little Richie saw was the cute Mickey Mouse utensil set you bought him.

You wanted to laugh, no matter how stubborn your husband was, your son was the same if not worse.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead​ feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[applesontheground]

Can I request a fic with dumbification with Patrick Bateman and a sub reader? Thank you!

Hi, anon! You absolutely can!

NSFW | Word Count: 771 | Patrick Bateman x GN Reader

contains degradation, marking, hair pulling, biting, doggy style, morning sex

It almost felt wrong to let him treat you like this in broad daylight. He held your head against the mattress, the pearl white dress shirt half undone and his well-threaded tie nearly licking the side of your face as he leaned in, the morning glow of a Saturday shining on his own through all the beauty products that he was currently sweating out.

“Don’t you fucking look at me,” He demanded, your watery eyes falling to the wall on the other side of the room. Bile sat on your tongue, and like an itch you had to retort, “M-maybe don’t make me cock drunk, Bateman, and I’ll consider it.”

His hand slipped along the back of your head, finding a fistful of hair to pull and make your entire body peel up and off the bed. Your hands fumbled to support you, now forced to look at him again despite his qualms to keep your eyes off of him.

He wasn’t giving you a choice, and that was what was the most diabolical part. With a hand tickling up your neck, securing your jaw so you couldn’t fight out of the hold, he muttered, “Breaking you down has become the best part of my day, and you have no idea how much I hate to admit that.

...You do understand that’s hard for me to admit?”

You hummed in affirmation, because it was physically impossible to nod.

“What does this lead to in the end, [Y/N]?” He then asked, expression unable to move in some sort of corresponding emotion, his hair disheveled and almost falling back from how he would push it so in the mere seconds you held eye contact. The pressure against your scalp was making it hard to focus, all the more accenting just how impatient your very existence beneath him made the man. Lost in the way he was still slipping in and out, barely letting up on the pace as your jaw opened, closed…opened one more time. “I don’t-“

“You don’t know. Right.” He let go of your hair, making your posture slip as well. Catching yourself with burning palms against the soft sheets, he warned, “I’m going to stop if you don’t get a goddamn grip.”

Agreeing yet again with a dazed mumble, you pushed yourself to sit fully upright, peering over your shoulder at that unwavering cold lockdown of a gaze. He sneered at the gesture, and spat with a venomous tongue, “Pitiful. That’s what you are, and all you will ever be. You know that?”

You nodded, and he had you by the back of the neck with that unforgiving hold he had treated your jaw to, slowing the roll of his hips and making you exhale both from asphyxiation and from dissatisfaction.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He insisted, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Patrick, I’m not worth the fucking time, but I’ve never been taken care of like this, by someone like you.” He started rubbing the top of your spine, finding a satisfying little knot to work on as he listened to you nearly weep, clenching your muscles like it could keep him inside of you, “Please, please just finish what you started.”

He scoffed, but sure enough repositioned and began to rut once again. You were too ashamed to even make a noise, mouth hanging open at the angle where he couldn’t see just how strung out he made you. The insults made it better; it made it worse. You didn’t give a fuck what it did, because what it did felt like you were over the skyline, unable to be touched by your tangible, stressful life.

The shame was burning you alive, but the way it only made him fuck you harder, his sounds more sharp as he careened his body over your back, not shy to start sinking his teeth into your shoulder blades and scratch down your ribs with his well kept nails that somehow still bit like they were feral; it made you cry as hard as it made you moan for more.

Destructive, pitiful – it was all a gross display of how much you two needed each other every morning. It couldn't be had any other way: raw, painful...

Pitiful.

[what-are-you-willing-to-do]

Take It All

Patrick Bateman x Male Reader 

Cw: Smut, Social Hierarchy, Sexism, Dom reader, asphyxiation, homophobia, closeted, blowjobs, public sex, degradation, threats and dub-con

In this world you either kill or get killed. There’s the strong and the weak. Patrick thought you were one of the weak but he was incredibly mistaken. 

“Mr. Bateman the printer isn’t working.” He hears your familiar voice as he perks up. He lets out a sigh as you look at him setting your papers down. “What other things can I do Mr. Bateman?” You ask as you fix your tie still keeping your eyes on him. 

He thinks taking a sip of his coffee. He sets it down as he clangs them empty coffee cup on the table. He slides it over to you as you barely catch it. “Coffee and make it snappy.” You nod as you roll you’re eyes at his snappy attitude.

You obey going to get his coffee and setting it down. You set it on his desk as you begin to walk away. “Really L/n? Doing a woman’s job huh?” One of his lackies mock you. You stop in your tracks. “Are you a queer or something?” You look behind you stopping at Batman’s face. 

He had that emotionless smile that most psychos had. You walk out of his office angrily. “Ha, trust me If I could’ve gotten a bitch I would’ve, but of course I got stuck with a gay.” You slam his glass door shut cracking it as you walk away.

Everyone looks at your hunched form. Anger they could all feel it. ‘Don’t mess with him right now.’ Everyone didn’t bother you or anything letting you get over your familiar anger. 

You were going out with friends tonight. Beers and chatter, simple but fun. You all were crying of laughter as you hear familiar steel toed boots tap on the ground. You look over to see Bateman and his assholes waving smugly. 

You shove your face in your hands as you groan. “You need to quit Y/n. This always happens, they treat you like shit.” One of your friends state, You nod in agreement as you sigh. “Eventually.” You all tried to ignore them attempting to have as much fun as you could. 

You all got your good chatting and everything. One of your friends began laughing so hard they spit their drink out on you. Everyone else was in hysterics at the cartoonish scene. You groan with a laugh as you stand up. “Excuse me my children, I’ll be back in a sec.” 

You walk into the bathroom taking your dress shirt off. You look at the door as it open. Bateman, it looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t even get his words out as he looked at you. “I’m off the job.” You continue washing your shirt off.

As he walks over fixing his own tie. “You know y/n-“ you look at him as you yank his tie pulling him up towards you. “Just shut up for five seconds, can’t even get a break from you outside of work. Fucking stalker.” You roll your eyes as he looks at you stunned. 

He lets out a quiet noise that you would’ve missed if you weren’t so observant of him. You look him up and down as your eyes stop at a tent in his pants. Your face starts to break out into a smile as you laugh. “Pitching a tent for the queer huh? Disgusting.” He winced slightly at the harsh words as you throw him to the dirty ground. 

“If you want me that bad than who am I to deny.” You yank him crotc-level to you as you smile at his disheveled form. You take your dick out as it slaps him in the face. It was so thick and long fuck. He never had a dick in his face or even been on his knees for anyone. You grabbed it hitting his lips. “Any teeth and I’ll make sure everyone knows about your little boner for me.” He obeys angrily as he gives an experimental lick. 

He continues softly licking as a bead of pre cum come out. He brings his slender fingers to your cock ad he rubs his thumb on the tip spreading the pre. Felt good for him probably the same for you. The foreplay felt good but you wanted more. You grabbed his hair as he let out a shocked moan shoving your dick into his mouth. 

You hold him there as he tries to push off. “God fucking degrading me at work? If only I knew you were such a whore sooner Bateman. Than we could’ve don’t this years ago. Dirty slut.” He tries hitting the back of your thighs but that only adds to the pleasure. 

You start moving his head up and down your shaft abusing his mouth. He’s loudly choking obviously not used to this foreign object in his mouth. You laugh as you bring your hand up pinching his nose. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe!!! He starts to tear up as the gaging becomes more vigorous. 

You laugh as he starts to turn a darker shade of red. From the asphyxiation or situation? You didn’t know but you loved it. His eyes begin to go heavy as his lungs burn. You start to get close as you grab his head shoving him as far as he can go. 

His eyes roll back as he takes your load deep into his throat. You let go of his nose as you continued thrusting slowly into his mouth milking your orgasm. With a few more thrusts you slowly pull out. A trail of saliva going from his tongue to your dick. 

“Treat me like that ever again and I’ll make fucking sure next time you’ll pass out understand?” He breathes heavily. You yank his hair as the tears begin to flow out. “Do you understand!!” You shout angrily “yes yes sorry sorry please sir!” you laugh as you slam him to the floor his head hitting the ground. 

“Dirty, dirty whore.” He sucks in the air as his lungs continue to ache. He tries picking himself up but failing as he accepts the fact he’ll be there for a little. This was so humiliating, laying on a dirty bathroom floor with cum still dripping out his mouth. He couldn’t think except for the fact that he wanted your dick in him and he couldn’t wait for next time.

@allen-444 @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess don’t know how y’all feel about American psycho but Patrick’s hot so- 🤷🏽‍♂️

[kausstar]

CHRISTIAN BALE as PATRICK BATEMAN in american psycho (2000) !

❝ I like dissecting girl. Did you know i’m utterly insane?? ❞

── ★ ★ ★ ──

 2022 ksastar.

please do not save without my permission. if you want to use: find in GIF.

[pxnkcigar]

can I request jealous!patrick bateman hcs?? Tysm!!!

patrick bateman jealousy hcs !

a/n: thank u for this request ! sorry it took a while, got busy and forgot to check my inbox. slightly suggestive (?)

wow NO you will not talk to this person, says patrick. he's the type to cause a ruckus when you aren't giving him attention for the past 5 minutes.

his blood boils from afar (not really far, he's less than an inch away.) and will give that person (and you) a talk later. it all really comes down on the bed when he "talks" to you.

you should address it to him, it'll probably grow worse over time.

[daddy-cake]

You know my life is going down hill when I find reading Patrick Bateman x Reader fanfics comforting after just having a mental breakdown

[rebelrebelstar]

PATRICK BATEMAN X READER

Patrick Bateman x Obsessed!StalkerReader

Reader is obsessed with Patrick Bateman. Patrick wants to kill them and they want to kidnap him and basically keep him in their basement. Reader is also gender neutral (aiming more towards male)

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of kidnapping, murder, delusions of love and friendship, slight torture, misogyny, bigotry and mentions of homophobia. Thoughts of Dub-Con (this is again for you guys!!!)

READER'S POV

To be honest, you didn't know what attracted you to Patrick at first. He was snarky, constantly picking on you at the office and giving you dirty and almost murderous looks when ever you made eye contact. But then you got to know him more.

It started with the forceful conversations you had him engage in you. It was hard to get him to budge but with a few pokes, you learned just enough. His favorite type of music was pop and jazz with a little hint of rock. He had an obsession with Whitney Houston, a proactive skin care routine (maybe that's why he looked so perfect) and an extremely active work-out regimen.

The lasts bits of information were ones Patrick didn't bother to give you, you unfortunately had to find out yourself. With a bit of hard work of course. After that, you had been infatuated with the man. Unfortunately, any conversation you had after those was short and cut clean. Patrick had even seemed to be avoiding, but no matter, he was simply shy.

But that's what made you so drawn. His social but withdrawn attitude. How he was constantly avoiding human contact and conversation unless it was in some L.A club or when he was doing coke with work buddies. His mocking way of speaking, as if he was looking down at others. There was a time you watched him begin to sweat as a coworker you couldn't bother to remember the name of pulled out his business card.

Patrick was such a complex man, a puzzle to be precise. And you wanted to figure him out. And after you found out what made him tick, you slowly began to insert it into you daily schedule. You'd do the same workout but more intense, bought a more expensive apartment that looked directly over New York's finest and bought a business card even your boss was jealous of.

And to see Patrick's face every time was so enticing and tempting, that you couldn't help but want more. And that's when the other thoughts started to come on. There were two sides to you when it came to Patrick Bateman. One wanted to love him. To fix him. Take care of his every need and coddle him. But another side wanted to hurt him.

To keep him with you, never let him leave your side. You even had fantasies. You catch him when he was off guard, possibly drunk or coked out of his mind with those silly friends of his. You'd guide him out home with you, where you'd give him a nice cup of water to get over the stupor, in which he'd pass out and you'd drag his unsuspecting into your bedroom.

As you peeled his clothing and tied him down, he'd awaken and scream, in which you'd tape his mouth shut. He wasn't allowed to speak yet. And then you could whatever you'd like to him. And nothing excited you more. Having the man writhe under you, in pain or pleasure would never cease to electrify you.

When the thoughts got too much, you'd be left gluttonous and with a damp spot in your pants. It was difficult to keep both sides repressed on a day to day, but you managed just fine. Until one day, where you and Patrick had drinks at his apartment.

You had been a little drunk, having too many glasses of wine to see the stares Patrick had given you. You were slightly slumped in your seat and Patrick leaned towards you with a glint in his gorgeous hazel eyes "Tell me Y/N. What do you think about me?" The smile was painted on his smooth face and with another glass of wine getting you going, you had begun to ramble.

"I had uhh, been drawn to you the first time I saw you. You were strutting down the hall with your headphones on, and a blank stare. I liked that. The powerful look in your eyes, the tall, broad shoulders. I liked that. But some part of me? It wanted to snuff it out" Patrick raised a brow "And what do you mean by that?"

With a little wobble, you leaned closer till it was certain the man could smell the alcohol on your breath "You're so perfect. In every way. The way you talk, the way you look, the way you hold yourself. You're a walking dream. Like a real-life Ken doll. And I wanna ruin you. I wanna break you. And then fix you myself. Maybe in my own image or maybe in a new form. I'd like to take you apart. Like a puzzle I've already solved. There's so much about you that I wanna rip to pieces Patrick"

It's tensely silent in the apartment. Patrick's face has gone right back to his daily blank expression, but those eyes? No no, they couldn't hide anything from you. The glint was slightly stronger, but had something else pared with it. Patrick intertwined his fingers and unclenched his jaw to ask "Do you like Huey Lewis and The News?"

[staticnight]

// about. me.

my name is James or Jamie, I'll also answer to static/night. I'll post mostly fanfic (x readers and the like), but you might get some completely original works too. I write fics that cater to primarily male audiences, and I'll probably do some gender-neutral ones too.

I'm super into Resident Evil, Silent Hill, and other horror games. Give me recommendations if you'd like.

// what. i. write.

I will write fluff, maybe some angst, and spicier scenes. I am okay with writing smut, but I haven't written enough to be any good at it.

people I will write include:

resident evil Leon S Kennedy . Chris Redfield . Piers Nivans . Ethan Winters . Karl Heisenberg

DC Bruce Wayne / Batman . Dick Grayson / Nightwing

supernatural Sam Winchester . Dean Winchester . Castiel

castlevania Alucard / Adrian Tepes . Trevor Belmont

marvel Bucky Barnes / Winter Solider . Steve Rogers / Captain America . Peter Parker / Spiderman

heathers Jason Dean

american psycho Patrick Bateman.

hannibal Hannibal Lecter . Will Graham

// if you want a character outside of these, send in a request! I'm more likely to do the above characters than not, but I'm not limited to only this list! // if you want a female character, you'll also need to send in a request. I'm more inclined to do male characters due to being into men.

[makeyoumine69]

Babe I LOVE your writing, and if your comfortable, Can you please write a little blurb about the reader digging her nails in Patrick's back,

im trying to think if he would like that he could make you feel good like this or hate it because your marking his beautiful skin.

Do you think he would push your hand off his back and tell you to take it or what???

Toxic

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Everyone knows that Patrick Bateman is such a toxic guy, his blood is like a deadly poison. Once you taste it, you are lost.

◥ CONTAINS: oral (f), p in v, creampie, Patrick is in predator mode, pretty aggressive foreplay and some more :)

◥ WORDCOUNT: 1.6k

◥ SONG REC: Britney Spears - Toxic

◥ A/N: Britney's song suddenly inspired me so much that I couldn't stop myself from writing it, thank you sm for your request, I hope you like it! 🖤

◥ LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓

You and Patrick were in the middle of a really serious fight, and the fact that you were stuck in his vacation house in Hampton was more than worrisome.

"I don't know why you're still trying to argue with me," Bateman blurted out, strolling around the large modern kitchen wearing nothing but tight gray pants. "You looked great yesterday."

"'Great'?" You almost choked on the air, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, in your opinion, looking great means looking like everyone else? Skimpy dresses, extremely high heels, red lipstick, stockings. Oh my God, Patrick! Why can't you just accept me for who I am?"

Patrick hummed and poured himself a glass of fresh orange juice, then took a quick sip; a small drop of liquid ran down his massive chest. "What do you mean?"

He seemed to be joking or mocking you on purpose, because your slightly irritated face only amused him.

"Stop trying to change me and -"

"Wait a second, honey," he cut you off pretty harshly, and in addiction, Bateman raised a finger in a warning gesture. "I can do whatever I want, you know why? Because I'm so fucking rich!"

"You don't own me, idiot!" You bellowed, instinctively closing the distance between the two of you. He did the same. "And I don't care about your money … you're so selfish and narcissistic that it's completely messed up your mind and you can't see anything good in people!"

You stood almost face to face, your lungs burning from your rapid breathing, while Bateman looked so calm and cold-blooded.

"You don't care about my money, but you always accepted all the gifts I gave you. How hilarious!" he almost spat the words right in your face, staring at you arrogantly until the vein under his eye became too noticeable. "If there's something you don't like - nobody's keeping you here. But since I'm very kind today, I'll give you a chance to apologize for this little accident."

Who knew what was in his head when he leaned down to kiss you, but he would surely regret it as you bit his lower lip hard, tasting his poisoned blood on the tip of your tongue.

"You fucking bitch!" He yelled, trying to catch you, but he was too slow from the aftershock of your action, so you managed to run away.

Scared, you rushed upstairs to the bedroom because you couldn't leave the house wearing just your underwear and his white shirt. God, your skin was literally burning from the expensive fabric of his shirt, so as soon as you got there, you took it off, forgetting to close the door. But to be fair, it was a pretty useless waste of time - he would open it or just break it, depending on how angry he was.

Panting nervously, you dashed to the bed and started to pick up your clothes when you heard his loud footsteps behind you. Time stopped for you as Patrick grabbed you roughly and pushed you onto the bed.

"No! N-no!" You struggled to slip away and climb further onto the bed, but he caught your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed with ease.

As soon as he rolled you onto your back, he grasped your neck and squeezed it painfully, pushing almost all the oxygen out of your chest. In response, you tried to claw at his hands, fighting back as hard as you could.

God, you thought you were going to die.

"What's wrong, honey? Not so brave anymore?" He nagged from above, settling down on the bed to press you even harder.

With a devilish grin, Bateman shook you several times, just to hear your miserable whimpering as he enjoyed the way you kept trying to push him off.

"E-enough, please." You trembled as you felt your strength running out.

"Jesus Christ, you're so pathetic and silly," he suddenly let you go, and you fell onto your back, breathing heavily. "What were you even thinking?"

It was definitely a rhetorical question, because the next moment Bateman was already pulling down your lace panties while you took a second to recover and continue struggling.

"Patrick, let me go! I don't want-mmm ..." You stammered as he dragged you even closer to the edge of the bed.

"You better shut up … unless you want me to test you on how long you can hold your breath."

Patrick quickly brushed off the drop of blood that formed at the corner of his lips before reaching down to spread your thighs and giving your blushing clit several flat licks. You squirmed almost immediately, feeling yourself so sinful and yet so damn good.

"P-Patrick," even if it wasn't a moan, it was enough for him to keep attacking your delicious little pussy as he sucked on your lower lips, one by one, until they both swelled. "God, e-enough!"

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he looked at you, his chin glistening with your sweet flavor. "You're so fucking soaked, why am I not even surprised?"

Frowning, you stared back at him and asked cheekily: "Shouldn't your lip hurt?"

"Oh, don't worry," Patrick smiled smugly and fixed his messy hair. "I'm ready to ignore any pain for this lascivious tight pussy."

Holy shit.

The wild lust you just saw in his eyes was terrifying and exciting at the same time. Seizing the moment of your reverie, Bateman forced you to lift your legs so he could sink his strong tongue further into your hot cunt. And this time you couldn't keep a loud moan from escaping your tense chest as the pleasure coursed through your body like electricity.

And then, Bateman stopped unexpectedly, causing you to sigh in slight disappointment, but then you were very vocal all over again, especially when his red, leaking tip was poking at your dripping opening.

Patrick thrust into you so roughly, climbing on top of your tiny body, almost tearing you apart from the inside, and of course he did it on purpose as he reveled in all the pitiful reactions you were making.

"No way, girl," he pushed on your wide open hips, pinning you almost flat against the bed, pounding into you with shameless flesh-meeting-flesh sounds."Stop whining, I was kind hearted enough."

Oh God, his hips — they seemed to be made of steel, they were so rock hard, so strong; every push you felt with your whole body, with your every little pitch.

"Argh, fuck, you feel so good, baby… so tight and hot." He groaned, picking up the pace; his thick dick hitting your belly mercilessly.

Bateman seemed to be really crazy as he lowered down to your face once again, without any fear of getting a bite, and for a second you had the illusion that he was waiting for it, and that drove you really wild.

To his surprise, you moved towards him to take his bruised lip in your warm mouth to suck on his wound. It definitely itched, but Patrick just hissed through your passionate kiss as you both tried to take the lead, greedily devouring each other as if it was some kind of competition. Meanwhile, your trembling arms ran down his broad back, squeezing his strong muscles from time to time. The more you tugged on his lower lip, the more relentlessly he fucked you into the bed, pressing you down and holding you there with his huge, muscled body.

"Mmm, P-Patrick, aaaahh!" You moaned lustfully, feeling the salty taste of his blood on your lips.

Huffing, you cupped his tight ass with one hand while another was busy clawing at his soft skin. Inch by inch, your sharp nails dug deeper and deeper, leaving red lines across his back.

In reply, Bateman only began to fuck you harder, almost shifting into a mating press position, but that was still not enough for you. Slowly, you slid your hand from his butt up to his loin, sinking your nails into his skin again and again, leaving more and more scratches. His low, sexy groans almost made you fall apart right here right now, but you continued to paint red lines all over his body, using his skin as your canvas.

"Ahh, (Y/N) … you're mine to tame," he snarled and began to squat down, creasing you beneath him and burying his beefy girth as deep as he could. "Mmmh, did you already take your birth control pills?"

Both of you were breathing so heavily that the air around you seemed to be hotter than lava.

"Awww, y-yes … YES! I did," you looked into his dark eyes, full of savage passion. "Patrick…Patrick!"

Damn, his cock was so huge, you could feel every vein on it throbbing in ecstasy as he was so close to reaching his high. Instinctively, you lifted your legs higher, opening them even wider. The level of penetration was overwhelming, with each thrust he made, the mixture of your juices poured down on your heated bodies with a slick, obscene sound.

Growling gutturally, Patrick rammed into you several more times before you felt his grip on you tighten as he unloaded his warm seed inside your sore womb and that feeling, along with the way you played with your oversensitive little bud, left you no choice but to fall over the edge as you climaxed with a loud, long-drawn moan, shaking so vigorously in his arms that you almost hit your forehead against his as he bent down to kiss your temple, admiring the way you were sinking into the ocean of pure pleasure.

[applesontheground]

could you write a nsfw piece with patrick bateman and a timid fem reader who’s started working at the office with him, which he doesn’t like because yk, misogyny. so, he invites her over and he’s degrading her and just being cruel under the guise of just hooking up but she surprisingly likes it. thank you!

i could absolutely do this, anon! (forgive me for the misogyny, though, lol!)

lion's den 💼

NSFW | Word Count: 1,931 | Patrick Bateman x Female Reader contains DUBCON/unwanted touching, very casual workplace misogyny/sexual harrassment, mentions of drug use, degradation 🎼: x

Even after tenure had weathered you well into your position in the workplace, there was still a subtle hostility every time you sat in the line of mostly single, mostly lawless men. It honestly fascinated you to see such clean-cut faces never progress past what you might have seen on a college campus, to do the things they did outside of work – but you kept that to yourself.

Like you didn’t do a line in those club bathrooms every so often.

Any threat posed by you wouldn’t be taken kindly to. It was as though an elephant had stampeded through the room as you sat yourself at the conference table, a small portfolio splayed in front of you. The presence was loud enough, the mere appearance that you were the only woman there, and that there was no need for a throat clear or even an adjustment in your chair that would break such fragile silence.

This only became worse when you were directed to lead the conference, your branch at Pierce and Pierce being the one under question, and so early in the morning on top of it. Just one good thing for you after another. Your voice began to take control. Rather, set on top of the surface of the room as all your male coworkers acted like it was holding any actual water. Everything was so fabricated you were close to tearing your own hair out should you be left alone.

“Any questions?” You asked towards the end of the display you had put on, oblivious to what was about to happen as you closed the portfolio. “[Y/N], I’m sure you get this question a lot,” You glanced up, interested at first until you heard a snicker from the other side of the conference table. You held your breath, gaze frozen to your coworker Turner as he went on, “But you know, you could leave us to do this sort of planning.”

Your throat tightened, a confused smile crawling over your expression as you lied, “I’m sorry, but I don’t-“

“Boys. He means us as in men, sweetheart.” The snickering voice finally broke into his abrasive tone, and the table couldn’t help but laugh along. You smirked, the fake chuckle in your mouth drier than you had meant it as you clasped your hands together, a quiet murmur above the voices, “Yes, I am aware. Not now, though, but maybe one day.”

“One of us could pick you off the vine,” Your teeth pressed together in their interlock, pressure building badly in your face as the smile became jagged. “Settle down, have some kids...”

“Turner, cut the shit. Not at the conference,” Another piped up, but he was leaning back in his chair; a posture he had worn the moment you had opened your mouth.

He watched this from afar, a few catches of the eye all he got from you as he took it in. Something was starting to cave underneath that smile, he figured, but the utter disdain he caught as you closed your mouth to run your tongue over your teeth. A sign of disgust, she’s hiding it well.

I wouldn’t tolerate blatant undermining from these men, he then concurred, more for a stroke at his own ego than any kudos to you. It was simply a power play, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t flat out admit it was delicious to watch. A dark tress of his own psyche asked the question, looking to the man who was leading the berating in harmless breaths. Why does Turner think that he has any sort of control over [Y/N]? Besides being a man, his performance at best runs alongside hers – let alone struggles to maintain even her average pace.

When he looked back over to you, pulling from the cyclone behind his glassy brown eyes, he then caught the stare that was quickly moving on, throwing itself to the window in a surprised flash of [y/e/c].

Was she staring at me? His mouth twitched from behind a curled hand, still doing his best to appear disinterested.

Why?

Maybe you could understand why there was such heavy drug use outside these walls now. Standing in a secluded break area, away from the council of airheads and with your cup of coffee, you recalled you had a flask in your office. Would anyone notice the spiked coffee? You thought with a smirk, but then seeing a glance of yourself in the crystal clear pot you were setting back in its place on the maker, you stomped the moment’s happiness back down with a following thought.

They’d notice if it was you.

“Oh, Miss [L/N]? Are you busy?” You almost didn’t recognize the voice of Jean, one of the secretaries for the VPs. You didn’t know if she was Constance or Bateman’s girl, but she cleared that up rather quickly with an introduction, stepping into the room with a downturned smile that did nothing to hide the intimidation she was feeling. “Jean, Mr. Bateman’s secretary. Have we spoken before?” You outstretched your hand and replied quietly, “Don’t believe so. Knew you helped one of the Vices here, though.”

She nodded hurriedly and mentioned, “Mr. Bateman told me that you were great at the meeting today. He…” She faltered, and you turned away from the counter fully, mug in hand and eyebrows furrowing. It was something you once again saw coming from a mile away, but still left the poor secretary to spit it out. “He wanted me to find you so that he could ask if you’d stop in his office at around two today. Go over your plans for the upcoming…uh-“

“Transfer?” You finished for her and smiled along when she beamed and nodded to you, “Yes, that. The transfer.”

You nodded, only thinking for a moment before answering, “Tell him I’ll be there, but I have another quick meeting at four. It’s a tight fit but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Seeing that smile on her face again as she nodded for the third time in five minutes, you then admitted to her, “I’ll be honest, it felt like he was the only one taking me serious during the stand-up this morning.” Jean hummed in agreement, and mentioned, “He takes the girls here very…coldly, I think. I-It’s better than being laughed at, I suppose.” She paused, and then pleaded, “Oh, don’t tell him I said that.”

You winked at her, “Of course not. It’s between us.”

At two, you went down the hall with your portfolio (just as infamous as you were at this point). Jean gave you a meek smile to see you enter the small office that came before Bateman’s quarters, and before she had even got on the phone to tell him the door opened.

“[L/N],” He greeted, and you caught that he was overtly warm as he gestured inside. You wondered if this was going to be anything of substance, but still walked in with the same level of mock joy. “Bateman, glad to meet with you.”

The door closed behind you, and there was an almost serene silence as he walked over to his desk. A careful finger dragged on the page of his open planner, checking something while you merely stood there.

“You know, I think Turner had a point.” Your eyes grew cold, staring at him as he stood from his desk, eyes still on his planner as he closed it. He then stated in a plain voice, “You’re far too incompetent to be leading this transfer.” You scoffed and were about to mention something about tenure when he suddenly froze up and looked at you. It wasn’t a friendly workplace stare or the stifled contempt you had seen from coworkers before. It was irritating, downright callous as he seemed to already be looking past you. You couldn’t help but stand a little straighter as he then approached, still in a leisurely stroll.

He got uncomfortably close, and you almost pressed into his office door as he murmured, “I think that you take disrespect far too often to ever be taken seriously, [Y/N]. It’s embarrassing.”

For once, you received this sort of comment from a sharp voice that was a little more than a complicated strain of hot air. He meant that, something he wasn’t just regurgitating from his peers. It was honest, and it was making your face catch fire as you muttered, “I’ve earned my place here just as well as half the trust-fund children who bought their way here, Bateman.”

Part of you was downright terrified of losing your pristine mask, frowning as you gave his well-fit suit a glance up and down. He was doing the same, and the two of you met eyes at the same time. He then sighed, “Well, I don’t think it’s going to get you anywhere. Especially not here."

You dug your tongue into your cheek, and snapped back, “I don’t need to be anywhere else besides here.” A pause, and you quickly clarified, “In this office, doing these busywork transfers and inventory checks so you men can go on, do coke and fuck whoever you want in your free time.”

He took in a breath, facing you and not shy to start backing you into the door. It should’ve made you leave, but that same hollow reminder that HR wouldn’t do anything kept you glued to the door, trying to stand your ground even while downright petrified. You wondered if Jean had heard the door shift from your shoulders sliding up against it.

It shouldn’t have made you wet, either, but knowing he was speaking his mind – his cruel, lucid mind – was going straight to the part of you that desired that. You desired drugs, you desired distraction, but you desired something real more than any of it.

Suddenly, his hand slid up your thigh, and your mouth fell open to yelp but he silenced you with nearly boxing you against the door, feeling the heat kept between your legs even through the layers of fabric, the guise of professionalism. The shock melted into pleasure as he watched you crumble bit by bit, pressing harder against your sex just for good measure.

“Do you bring this on yourself because you like it?” He then asked, scrunching his nose, “That’s deplorable.”

“Please,” You huffed, “It's only because you've been the only man who means it.” His neck straightened, no longer ogling your body to see you smile at him in a wicked prick of the lips, “I hear it all the time from these goddamn parrots we work with. Turner heard it from Allen, Allen heard it from Constance…But that’s the first time a man has had the brain power to call me deplorable.”

His hand left your crotch, and he almost seemed taken back by the way you smiled. You then asked, “Are you telling human resources about this, or are you going to make a woman do it?”

He scoffed now, and reminded you, “They wouldn’t do anything.”

Grinning, you agreed, “I know.”

He was stunned again, watching you adjust your clothes from where he had haphazardly pushed them aside. “Let me know if you have any more concerns about the transfer, Mr. Bateman.” You plainly stated, turning the knob to his office door before excusing yourself.

You closed the door, and Jean and you both jumped when his fist pounded against the door. You stood with your back to the wood, and when you met the secretary's eyes, you merely smiled.

"That wasn't cold at all."

[dominantslasherking]

Patrick Bateman with Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Backstory: Patrick had always mistaken his jealousy for you to be out of wanting what you want, to be like you, when it was in fact that Patrick was jealous because he couldn't be with you. Patrick wants to show you how much he wants you, by getting on his knees like a good boy. (BTW you're his boss) Warnings: Needy Patrick Bateman. Bratty Patrick Bateman. Submissive Patrick bateman

"Mr. Bateman?"

His assistant's voice was drowned out by his raving thoughts, his still face urked something deeper on the inside. Patrick's breath halted as he watched you enter the meeting room. Patrick''s eyes fixated on you, the object of his all-consuming fixation, You, wearing a designer suit so exquisitely tailored. "The stitching was so fine that it could have been performed by angels, and the black silk tie, perfectly knotted, was a stark contrast to the snowy white dress shirt beneath. His cuffs peeked out just enough, revealing pristine, perfectly aligned links that seemed to shimmer in the ambient light."

Patrick's inner monologue continued to obsess over your suit and how it was tailor-made, and it made Patrick grit his teeth a bit that you one-upped him with your tailor-made, and currently-in-style suit.

Patrick was snapped out of his intense thinking as you greeted him, your large and veiny hand, taking in his own. "Pleasure, once again Mr Bateman." Your humble and husky voice rang. Patrick gave a fake smile. "Of course." You could tell that Patrick held back his greetings of praise was that jealousy written on his face? The business meeting continued on normally, Patrick always sparing you passing glances, a mixture of emotions displayed in his eyes.

<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>> The next scene was at Dorsia, the place Patrick could never get into, but he was oh so shocked to receive an invitation from you of all people.

But Patrick was just happy he could get in, he wore a fake smile, his best suit, and a pretty woman at his side. Patrick's smile instantly fell when he saw you, with a breathtaking woman, more beautiful than the one at his side.

But it wasn't jealousy of the woman you had, it was something more, that Patrick couldn't place just yet.

"Don't worry, the meal is on me." You politely stated, as Patrick's intense gaze lifted up from the menu and onto you for a brief moment, a mutter under his breath, something incoherent, but, you could tell he was mocking you. Slowly you rested your face lightly on your knuckles amused by him, how come you have never noticed such a handsome yet bratty worker? Not only that but when the waiter came over, you saw a sinister grin place itself on Patrick's face as he smiled showing off his pearly teeth. "I think I'll indulge in the 'Golden Elixir of Ostentation,'" Patrick said purposely ordering the most expensive alcoholic beverage on the menu, he was clearly reveling in his choice. It seemed he was expecting you to protest in a sense, but you straightened up your posture a bit and gave a small nod. "Make that two bottles." "The bratty veneer I had carefully cultivated crumbled away. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time - the desire to submit." Patrick had thought. His face fell into one of stillness and unease.

<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>

Patrick opened his mouth, letting your fingers enter. Patrick's tongue rolled around, licking and slurping on your fingers, as he then began to suck, maintaining eye contact with you. On his knees, in your fancy penthouse is where the current setting was. Patrick was already stripped of most of his suit, his suit's jacket laying somewhere, Tie gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned nearly fully, his hair a mess. "[Name].." Patrick's voice was muffled and breathless as he tried to speak with your fingers in his mouth, his eyes were a bit droopy with lust.

"In that instant, the power dynamics shifted, and I found myself navigating a treacherous new territory, craving his attention and approval more than ever before." --- Patrick Bateman.

[kausstar]

KILL ME

patrick bateman x f! assistant! reader￨sfw content￨wc: 2k

patrick hated woman who weren’t slightly slutty, willing to be submissive to him and keep their fucking mouths shut, so he practically hated you. until he found himself questioning his sanity because of you.

you’re shorter than him and attitude filled. talks of blood and murder. you’re referred to as slut and bitchy once. swearing. kissing.

𝓴aus. people writing the reader as submissive/dominant with patrick is not my thing so decided to do my own thing.

after jean quit, patrick was forced to find a new assistant so he went hunting, and found one that he thought would fit him the best. at least he thought you would. in the last month you had worked for him, he’d fired you twice but each time he found himself calling you after not even a week of you not working. you were good at keeping up, never second guessed his change of plans and never asked questions, but you did have an attitude that had him thinking about all the bloody things he’d like to do to you.

he thought about it a lot, actually. when he applied his eye mask in the mornings, worked out, got in the shower, did his skin care, and even while fixing his tie before work. he tried to fill his aching needs by fucking prostitutes and killing some, and it worked… for a while until his ways of killing them got more violent in the sexual aspect, then it stopped working all together.

why was he letting some slut get to his head like this? he thought as he sat on his couch, hand playing mindlessly with the blonde hair of the whore he’d killed the night before. he would kill them for pure fun now. a knock came from his office door making his shade covered eyes look up from the crossword puzzle in his lap. casually, he slips the hair into the pocket of his shirt, before you slip through the door frame without an okay from the man like always.

he closes his eyes behind his shades as he takes a deep breath in—trying not to comment on it, but speak up anyways. “wait before opening the door next time,” he says, eyes now open and looking down at his crossword puzzle. “mhm,” you ignored him, before walking over to his desk to lean your body against it, you made sure not to knock over anything. he didn’t even have to look up to see where you were standing. you’d done it many times before. he hated the way you leaned against his desk- even the way you stood.

the first time you did it, he thought about running a knife down your hip until you asked politely for him to stop or when you were screaming in pain, either way he wanted to see it. “gotta call a couple minutes ago about drinks with spencer at that bar down town,” you say, scheduling book resting on your arm while you read from it. “when?” he questions, writing in a word he had just figured out. it coincidentally being “bones”.

“after twelve,” you say, looking up at him, eyes running over the way his jaw was tightened slightly. “cancel it,” he waved making you roll your eyes with a lightly sigh. after jotting down what you needed, you close the pen within the book and throw your hands up at patrick. “have drinks with the guy. he’s a pain in my ass, patrick,” you groaned, hands resting on either side of you on the desk, supporting yourself. “oh yeah?” he asks, looking over at you, before you could reply he continues. “me too. now cancel it,” he says before looking back down at his puzzle.

you frown at the argument you’re going to have with the guy later. “kill me,” you groan, standing up from your leaning position. patrick wouldn’t mind doing so, it would actually make his life much more enjoyable. you grab your book from the desk and head for the door. “don’t forget i’m gonna be out this afternoon,” you comment, looking over at him. patrick ignores you, not really remembering why you weren’t but doesn’t care enough to remember or even respond.

without much care, you shut the door behind you.

xxx

a date. patrick remembered now why you weren’t going to be at the office. he hadn’t thought about it after you left, of course. he didn’t care, but he remembered because he just spotted you and your date walking into bar he was currently sat at with david and craig. you were sat at the bar with some guy. he looked middle class, nice tux, but not better than patrick’s, and he seemed to have you smiling, something patrick had never seen you do unless you were giving him a headache.

“who am i kidding? there are no chicks with good personalities,” craig waves as he smiles, looking between his two colleagues looking for approval. his sentence pulls patrick’s attention back to him. “exactly,” patrick points, before raising from his seat to give the man a high five. david follows suit and gives the man a high five as well. the three men’s laughs were loud enough to draw attention, and it did, by not only the small characters around them but you.

your date is the first one to look back at them and you follow quickly after, just to find patrick. patrick gives a glance to the two of you, hoping he didn’t miss anything but he only finds your eyes glued to his. your date gives a glance between you and patrick. “isn’t that your boss?” he asks, making you break eye contact and look over at him. “…yeah,” you reply, trying your best not to roll your eyes. you knew you were gonna see him here but your date had insist on going here. 

patrick is still looking though, trying to figure out what you’re saying. “that your bitchy assistant?” david asks, sharing a glance between you and patrick with a foolish grin on his face, blunt lit in between his fingers. “yeah,” patrick says, all of them now eyeing the two of you. “she’s pretty hot. surprised she got brains to keep up with your shit,” craig laughs, but no one laughs with him so he awkwardly dies it down. patrick was surprised too, that’s why he kept running back when he needed a good assistant.

suddenly, they watch the both of you get up from the bar and walk over to them. your date gives all of them a tight smile, with a small nod as you took your place on his arm, giving a glance to the men. “nice to meet you, gentlemen,” he starts, one button buttoned on his coat. his glance falls to the man to his right. “patrick bateman? she talks a lot about you,” he says, hand out to him but patrick doesn’t take it. no good things, he assumed. patrick only gives him a line smile, no teeth. he moves his attention to better things like he’s colleagues who are practically eye fucking you together.

“have a seat,” craig says, mindlessly, only giving your date a quick glance to let him know he was talking to him before gesturing over to the cushioned chair opposite of him. but his eyes are quick to land back on you as you walk around patrick’s chair to get to the seat, that was when craig spots patricks’ hard glare, and he looks down before clears his throat.

they didn’t have a care in the world for the guy, you were just their eye candy. patrick zones out after that, only letting his eyes move over you and your date. he eyes the way you sat on his lap, legs resting over his, his arm slipped around your waist. a stupid fuck like him should’ve realized by now that you’re too good for him. patrick felt your date was just taking up space, time and energy that you could all be wasting on him. his jaw slightly tightened at the thought.

he watched as you whisper something to your date and he nods in response, before you get up and head to the back. “so about her? how’d you get such a great ass?” david asks, giving a glance to you walking away then to your date with a grin. “i met her at some bar. and honestly i’m surprised bateman hasn’t had a hit yet,” he grins as he leans forward to touch patrick’s shoulder. the rest of them nod, agreeing with his statement while patrick’s face goes stern.

“and i’m surprised you haven’t taken the fucking hint yet,” patrick glares, swatting his arm off of his shoulders. they’re all confused by his hostility and frown at him. without much thought, patrick stands from his seat and excuses himself to the restroom. in the back, he walks straight into the woman’s bathroom to find you washing your hands. you ignore the door opening so you don’t look up from doing such act.

“who was that?” patrick questioned, standing a good distance behind you. the mans’ voice makes you look up and into the mirror. you’re quick to look around with wide eyes, hoping no one walks in and starts acting out. you quickly dry your hands, and push him into a stall with hurry.

“patrick, what the fuck!? what’s wrong with you?” you whisper, noticing his slightly tightened jaw. his patience was getting thinner by the minute. “who was that?” he asks again and you’re confused, he can see it. maybe you’re not as smart as he thought you were. “who’s who?” you ask, drawing his patience over the line.

“that guy!” he yells then he sees the anger in your face at the sudden raise of tune so he speaks again but softer. “you never told me about a guy,” he groans, more frustration in his tone. “why would i tell you about my dating life? you’re my boss, not my therapist. but since you’re so worried, i met him a couple days ago. we aren’t actually dating, just fucking,” you shrug with a sigh.

patrick wants to gag at the thought of his cheap hands touching you. “come on, you’re prettier than that,” he says, out of somewhat frustration and you’re taken back by the compliment. you don’t let the compliment sit in the air for too long so he doesn’t have the time to take it back. “i know… but he’s the closest thing i could find to you who’s not arrogant and stuck up the ass,” you groan, rolling your eyes.

even with frustration running up his blood pressure and clouding his mind, he understands what you mean. patrick didn’t understand social cues much but he believed this was one and if he’s wrong, he’ll just kill anyone later on tonight to ease his embarrassment. “someone like me, huh?” he questions, stepping closer. you don’t shy away so he continues, he grips your chin in between his fingers and makes you look up at him. “me too,” he says, then leans in and so do you.

your lips meet in a rather rough kiss, but it’s also deep and airy. patrick lets out a light groan only one you can hear— hopefully. with most of the prostitutes he tried to kiss to get over the aching feeling of you, he didn’t feel anything with them, just anger and greed, but things didn’t feel quite right when he kissed you. and it made his stomach turn up and him pull away from the kiss. he looks at you with confusion and a bit of disgust.

he’s confused and overwhelmed so he pulls away from you fully. the feelings he felt were disgusting— not you, he didn’t communicate that though. he only swiped his suit for any dirt and removed himself from the stall before walked out of the bathroom, not caring for any slut who looked confused by it. he wasn’t gonna let another get to his head. patrick lets his hand run through his hair before letting out a deep sigh as he approaches his friends once again.

“everything alright?” craig asks, seeing his sweating and slightly clinched jaw. bateman only nods, still standing before them, not minding their worried faces.

“yeah, i just need to return some videotapes.”

 2023 kausstar.

i did some research on the book version of bateman and mmmaaaannnn is he fucked up… i also might do a part two, happy ending this time??

[pxnkcigar]

hey hello ! just need to get something off of my chest.

closing this blog soon . i honestly don’t have much time and inspiration for writing anymore, but if i’m lucky i can make something and post it on ao3. i’m sorry for those who requested, i wish i would have fulfilled those requests, but school and other things have taken a toll on my writing. i know i barely made any posts on here but with how i see it, people still do like my writing, i might just archive this instead. but please do not expect any more out of me. i might come back in a different set up and different codename…but i will not come back to this blog any longer. thank u sm for understanding, and thank u for taking ur time to read this. i hope u have a good day/night nonetheless. goodbye ! <3

[marishoodie7]

How slashers would react to you getting on top

Includes: Billy Loomis, Charlie Walker, Patrick Bateman

Content Warning: 18+! P in v, overstimulation, riding

(No pronouns mentioned, but reader has female anatomy!)

***

: ̗̀➛ Billy

Your head was hitting the headboard with every thrust, his cock buried deep inside you. You forced your eyes open, “Fuck Billy,” you managed.

He grunted in response. You braced your hands on his shoulder and wrapped your legs around his hips. You rocked to the side and flipped him over. His dick slammed into you, even deeper and you moaned as you made yourself comfortable on him.

The strands of hair that had been flopping around had flattened on his forehead. His demeanor changed and he gave you a sly smile, his eyes darkened and his moved his hands to your hips. You rocked back and forth, slowly bouncing on him before finding a steady pace. You bit your lip as you neared your release, a tight knot that had formed in your stomach was unraveling slowly as you neared release.

Your legs shook and your walls clenched tightly around his dick. Billy bucked his hips up sloppily to meet you halfway before going limp. He let out a deep moan and came. You slowed your movements and gave one last bounce before coming onto him. You laid down on his chest and drifted off to sleep as he praised your performance that night.

:➛ Charlie Walker

“Let me take care of you this time.” You urged.

“Fuck, okay,” Charlie gasped as you stroked his cock, “Jesus.” You smiled at his reaction and gently pushed him onto the bed.

“Lie down.” You commanded. You lowered yourself onto him, his dick stretched out your walls. You didn’t know Charlie was so big. You put your hands on his chest and started to roll your hips. He felt so good inside you. You sped up and Charlie’s eyes rolled up into his head, he whimpered as you clenched around his hardened cock.

He bucked upward and desperately grasped at your hips. Hot tears were streaming down his face, and you could feel his dick twitch inside you. He was close, but you had no plans to stop or slow down.

“Fuck, y/n.” He whimpered as he came. You fucked him right through his orgasm, his face was reddening with overstimulation, his eyes were clenched. His hips stop bucking and he let you do all the work, guiding him towards his next orgasm.

Charlie moaned as he nearing his next release, you were getting closer too, but you didn’t stop, you couldn’t. A hot feeling filled you as you came on him. You rolled your hips a few more times before pulling off before Charlie could come. He lay on the bed, whimpering.

“Poor Charlie,” you tutted, without sympathy, “you were such a good boy but I couldn’t let you come this time.” You tan your fingers through his hair as his breath slowed and lost its raggedness. He turned to you and smiled.

“we’re gonna need to do that again sometime.”

: ➛ Patrick Bateman

Patrick drilled into your ass. He loved to hear the pretty screams of pleasure you let out as he fucked you. You were on all fours on the bed and Patrick was grunting above you. He pulled out suddenly and lay down on the bed, his dick rock solid and standing up, and his arms around his head.

“Why don’t we try something different?” He suggested casually as if he hadn’t been pounding into you a moment earlier.

“So you want me to ride you?” You deadpanned. You wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. You had been dreaming of the day where you would get to take charge.

“Yes.” He grinned. You couldn’t help but smile back as you pushed yourself onto him. He tangled his hand into your hair and braced himself for you to quicken the pace. You dig your fingers into his shoulders and sped up, rocking your hips back and forth. His length was stretching out your walls and you could feel his tip hit your g-spot.

You tried to throw your head back but he pulled your hair and forced your face closer to his.

“There you go, slut, ride me like the whore you are. I know how eager you were to wrap my dick around your pussy.” He growled in your ear. Your legs shook and you felt warmth spread through your body. You came on him, and tried to slow down your pace. He only tugged harder and encouraged you to keep going, no matter how sloppy you got.

“Come baby, just ride me a little longer, you got it.” He praised. His dick twitched and he finally released. Your core warmed when it was met with his thick, hot ropes. You unmounted him and slid next to him in the bed. He wrapped his arms around you.

“I should really let you take control more, huh?” He laughed.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “that wasn’t half bad.”

A/N: this is my first time doing head cannons like this! There may be more in the future who know? I hope you enjoyed!