#christian bale fluff

[remuslovebot]

Wildest Dreams | BW

pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything

a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

☽☽☽

Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.

You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.

You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.

Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.

Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.

You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.

One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.

“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.

You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.

Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.

“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”

As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.

You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.

You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.

“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.

“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.

Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.

“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.

He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.

You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.

You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.

Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.

You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.

It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.

Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.

From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.

“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Good,” you smiled contently.

[eternalslover]

GUYS.

I am POSITIVE I have read EVERY Bale!Batman thing on this app...

THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE

PLEASE SOMEONE, WRITE FOR CHRISTIAN BALE BATMAN

I NEED IT

PLEASE, HEADCANONS, BLURBS, DRABBLES, ONE-SHOTS, IMAGINES, FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT, ANYTHING PLEASE I NEED ANYTHING

IM SO SICK OF JUST SEEING ROBERT PATTISON BATMAN STUFF 😭😭😭😭

[indeediagree]

I love pinterest

[batemansluvrr]

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺

A/N: Here’s the one-shot, as I said before I’m really sorry for my absence. I didn’t have time to proofread this so, if there are grammar mistakes you know. Enjoy your reading.

Warnings: PLEASE READ! Alcohol addicted reader, cigarettes addicted reader, very demotivated reader, swearing.

Contains: Dark themes at first (Alcohol and Nicotine addiction), but then turns into fluff, Patrick comforts reader and reassures her, smut part at the end but the bare minimum.

Synopsis: When you found out that Patrick has spent the rest of the night with Courtney right after finishing arguing with you, you couldn’t do nothing but soffocate your pain in alcohol and cigarettes.

Word count: 1.5k+

The warmth of the water covered you and you felt.. safe. The warm water hugged your body and it brought back some of the joy you felt when you were with Patrick. Your sadness was still there, deep inside of you, but you weren’t overwhelmed by it. The water was comforting, warm, and peaceful. You closed your eyes and you let your mind drift, you let the past drift away. You let yourself think about Patrick, and all of the fun and happy moments you had together. You missed him, but that was okay.. because.. the water was peaceful.

Or maybe it simply wasn’t the water, but the bottle of whiskey you drank in one sip. The feeling was almost instantaneous, the feeling of joy and relief washed over you. The whiskey was strong, but it was almost a good kind of strong. That was how it feels to be in heaven, and you took all of it you could before the feelings started to fade away. But for the moment it was blissful, your mind was filled with peace and your body.. well, it felt alive. It was perfect and you wanted to keep it. To just hold on to it forever. You drank more, more, more, until you began to feel numb. You couldn’t feel anything. You felt nothing. You felt numb, and the feeling was glorious. Alcohol was always there for you, it didn’t judge you and it wouldn’t never run away. Alcohol was your companion, your friend, your lover, your escape. You drank and you drank and you drank, you couldn’t stop, you wouldn’t have stopped yourself. That was better than feeling anything right? And besides.. When you were with the booze you didn’t feel so alone.

Did you?

The numerous knocks on the door woke you up to reality, opening your eyes. You still didn’t want to see anyone though, that was one of the few moments you had to feel relaxed and you wouldn’t let no one interrupt it.

But you didn’t know that the one at the door was the one you never wanted to see again. Patrick stood at the door, his face filled with rage. He was angry, you didn’t answer his texts and didn’t even call him, he was gone completely crazy and he was trying to make it clear how angry he was. The anger was apparent in his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he stood. He was not happy, not happy at all. He was mad and he wanted your attention, but he didn’t want to force himself inside of your apartment. Instead, he banged on the door and screamed your name. Once you realised it was him, you pretended to not hear him and also pretended to listen to the random music that was playing on tv. Patrick was frustrated and angry, and he wanted a response. He kept standing there, waiting and waiting, he knew that you were in there but he didn’t want to be in that awkward position. "Why weren’t you answering the door? Was it something he said, did he do something to make you angry?" He kept asking himself, but he didn’t know, and he was standing there with an annoyed expression as he waited.

Patrick pounded on the door again, he didn’t care if the neighbors heard him, or if the people in other apartments noticed. He wanted a response, and he was going to keep demanding it. He was standing there with a scowl on his face, clearly frustrated by the whole situation, but he didn’t want to do anything violent. Not for the first five minutes. When you kept drinking, ignoring him completely, Patrick got fed up and he kicked the door in, his eyes filled with rage. He was standing there and with one swift kick, the door flied open and he stood there in the doorway.

"ANSWER ME!" He shouted, the walls rattling under the force of his scream. He looked for you in every single room of your apartment and once he found you in the bathtub, he became even more mad at you. Patrick watched as you ignored his screams and his cries. He didn’t want to yell anymore, but his hands shook with frustration and he was filled with rage, there was fire boiling in his eyes. Patrick just wanted to grab you, to scream at you, to make you understand how angry he was. He wanted to make you understand how much pain you caused him. He wanted to teach you a lesson, and he stomped over to the bathroom and tried to rip the bottle out from your hands. But then, he realised everything. You were hurting yourself, your own soul, that he always used to call "innocent". It was not innocent anymore. The bathtub was full alcoholics and cigarette packs, and the thing that horrified him even more, was that the most of the bottles and packs were already empty or consumed. "You are hurting yourself." Patrick shouted, his voice filled with pain and anger. He couldn’t stand to watch this, to watch you do this to yourself. "You can't keep hurting yourself like this, it has to stop." His eyes wet with pain and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Patrick, go away." After saying the last word you finally decided to met his glance, but the sparkle in your eyes that Patrick always adored wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t capable of feeling a single emotion, or maybe, you refused to feel them. "You're hurting yourself, y/n." Patrick repeated, a little more irritated than before. He looked at you and saw how much pain you were in. How much suffering. He kept watching you, his eyes filled with anger and pain. He wanted you to stop, he needed you to just stop, he couldn’t see you like this. "If you don't stop now, we're done, do you hear me?" He said sternly, Patrick was furious. "You deserve fucking better than this."

Patrick watched as you were smoking a cigarette before taking a long sip of another alcoholic bottle. He knew that he should have done something, and yet he stood there frozen in place. Patrick also knew these thoughts were irrational, but his mind was plagued by them. When he saw you falling into the bath tub, it snaps him out of it. He rushed over and made you stood up in front of his tall figure. The anger and frustration were still pulsing in his veins but he knew that his furious tone wasn’t going to solve anything, he knew that yelling wouldn’t help. Instead he washes you gently, he was caressing your delicate frame with a sponge looking at you as if was trying to decode your reaction. You tried to not look at him as he was washing every single part of your body, even your most intimate zones, but it was different, he wasn’t excited or something, he seemed to care about you, and in fact, he did. He wrapped a towel around your body and then he helped you get out of the tub and walk over towards the bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him as he was exactly in front of you, lowering to your height. "Just tell me why did you do this." Patrick demanded staring at you. Your mouth realised a sigh and your eyes were captured by the floor as you began to speak.

"I saw you with Courtney, that night, after we argued." He immediately stood up right after you admitted that. His eyes widened. "You didn’t think that we had sex, right?" Patrick asked you, hoping that your answer would have been a no. He passed a hand through his hair when you stayed in silence, he was trying to remain calm because he clearly couldn’t believe that.

"Christ y/n, Courtney was drunk. She didn’t want Luis to see her in that state so I told her she could stay at my apartment, even though I was really pissed off." You were still a little shocked but deep inside, a part of you was full of joy and fully reassured by his words. "You two didn’t have sex?" You asked, just to be sure.

"No doll, of course not. I would never." Patrick was smirking, tickling your soft skin of your legs with his long fingers. "Can't believe you really thought I cheated on you.." With the other hand he started touching your hair, you wanted that moment to last forever. He kept that clever smile on his face that intrigued you more, but then, his glance moved to your seductive lips and Patrick realised he couldn’t resist anymore. After almost a second your lips were connected, his tongue exploring your mouth while your hands were constantly searching something to grab for support. He pulled away slightly, and leaved a trail of wet kisses on your neck. Patrick whispered in your ear, the words came out in a breathy way that was full of love and excitement at the same time. "I can make you forget everything, I’ll make sure you forget everything." He kissed you again.

"..I'll make you a happy woman."

[prettyyoungandbored]

I know your requests are closed but for when you have them open up can you please write a part two to this? I loved it and only just found it!

https://www.tumblr.com/prettyyoungandbored/693080581256462336/can-you-please-write-some-more-christian

Here’s to you, to everyone who gave the one shot some love, and to the movie’s 15th anniversary.

Pregnant [Bale!Bruce Wayne]: Part 2

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warnings: Takes place after the events of “The Dark Knight” so major spoilers.

Sequel to this story

NOT MY GIF

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/N opened her eyes, welcomed by the soft touch of moonlight peering through the bedroom window.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty and still untouched, indicating he had yet to come to bed.

She wasn’t surprised nor concerned, having spent years dealing with his Batman patrol. Even after Bruce gave up being the masked crusader and the two settled into Wayne Manor, there were some nights he spent wide awake.

Realizing she wouldn’t get some sleep for a bite, she threw off the covers and padded quietly down the hall into her baby’s nursery.

Damian Wayne was born in August and quickly became the apple of his parent’s eyes. He was the perfect blend of Bruce and Y/N and the happiest baby in the world.

The glow of the nightlight from inside the nursery peered into the hallway, indicating the door was open and that Bruce was more than likely in there. Sure enough, that’s where she found him. He sat in the rocking chair, cradling their sleeping baby boy in his arms.

“Look at my favorite guys,” Y/N cooed quietly. “Was he crying earlier?”

Bruce nodded, giving her a small smile. “I was up anyway. Figured I’d let you rest.”

She took a seat on the foot stool facing the chair, admiring the view in front of her. “I love seeing you with him. It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

“I could say the same about you,” Bruce remarked. “I love watching you walk around the manor holding him.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his. Even after all this time, his gaze made her melt into a puddle.

“Remember when I told you I was pregnant?” she brought up. “How terrified I was?”

Bruce’s chuckled. “It was the greatest thing you’d ever said to me. Besides, of course, ‘I do.’”

The memory played out in her head. “I spent the whole night fighting the urge to put my hand on my stomach. I didn’t want anyone to know.” She paused. “By the time I was about to tell Rachel, you threw me into a closet.”

He let out a small laugh. “I threw you into a closet to save your life.”

“Yes you did. Saved both of our lives.”

Bruce’s smile faded softly as he shifted their focus to their son.

Y/N avoided bringing up his Batman days, knowing that the end of it nearly killed him. It took him a long time to come back from it, and even then he still wasn’t fully back.

“You…” her voice trailed off

His eyes met hers. “What?”

“You’re still my hero. Despite everything, you are and always will be. Bruce Wayne was my hero before I knew about Batman.” She paused. “And as far as Damian is concerned, you’ll always be his.”

The soft gaze on his face nearly broke her. It was as if he’d waited a lifetime for someone to say that to him. His attention shifted to Damian.

“When you told me you were pregnant, I knew right then and there it all had to end,” he said. “My father spent more time fighting for the city and while he was present for me and my mother, it still was his biggest concern. I wasn’t gonna let that happen. Not with what happened to them.”

His eyes met hers. “I will always regret the way it ended. Always. It will haunt me for as long as I live. But walking away will never be something I regret. If it keeps my family safe, that’s all that matters.”

Y/N pulled back her lips, fighting the tears that pooled in her eyes. She knew he didn’t want to end it the way he did. Not when it cost two lives.

“Has it really been a year?” Y/N spoke up, a slight tremble in her voice.

Rachel’s death plagued the couple enough that by the time the one year anniversary had come, they were all cried out. Still, it hung over them throughout the day. The couple made a silent agreement to avoid acknowledging it.

That was until now.

“It has,” Bruce answered. “Still feels like yesterday.”

Y/N exhaled. “I think about her every single day.”

He reached his hand over, giving hers a squeeze as if to say he did too. He still couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he found other ways to express it that Y/N understood.

“Thank you,” he said. “Without you, I don’t think I would’ve survived.”

She squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have survived without you either.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Simply Not There - Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

Title: Simply Not There

Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Paul (Mentioned) and Reader's friend (Mentioned)

WC: 3,088

Warnings: Suggestive themes (it's mentioned briefly), gore mentioned, murder mentioned, cursing, blood mentioned, American Psycho canon violence mentioned, The Shining storyline mentioned, slight angst, and fluff

You stood, leaned against the wall of Patrick's apartment, looking through the many movies he had above his TV. Raking your fingers against the thick cases of the VHS tapes, the tip of your finger paused on one movie, 'Body Double'. It was Patrick's favorite movie, one he spoke of a lot with you, or anyone who'd listen for that matter. It was an alright movie, you've watched it a couple of times whenever Patrick was watching it after a long day at work, or on the weekends. It was about a man who got fired and dumped by his girlfriend, and while house-sitting, he witnesses a murder from the house across from him; which then leads him to try and solve the case. You were pretty bored, Patrick being at work and all, so you wanted to do something. You could go out, maybe see a movie in theaters, but you didn't really feel like going out and being among people. Deciding not to watch the movie, you continued looking through Patrick's movies until you gave up on finding anything to watch in his collection; filled with suggestive thrillers, gory horror, and crime. 

Pushing off the wall, you walked to Patrick's bedroom, your socked feet slightly slipping on the floor as you practically dragged yourself into the room. Going over to the large bed, covered in crisp white sheets, you went to your side; where you usually stayed the night, and got down on your knees. Reaching under the bed, you pulled out a small bin. Since you lived in your own apartment, you didn't really need to keep much of anything at Patrick's apartment. Just a few spare clothes, your mug for your morning coffee, and other necessities, but not a lot. The one thing you made sure to bring after hanging out and spending time with Patrick, were your own movies. Not that you weren't alright with watching some of his movies from time to time, you enjoyed some of them, if not most; 'Scarface,' 'Blue City'... But you liked to watch your movies too. Flipping through the VHS boxes in the bin, you passed through such movies as 'The Dark Crystal,' 'Batman,' 'The Breakfast Club,' and 'The Princess Bride,' until you came across a movie that piqued your interest. 'The Shining.'

You didn't understand why Patrick didn't have this movie in his collection. It was dark, gory at times, a bit suggestive, with large dashes of psychological horror. You thought it'd be right up his alley, but it didn't really seem to be the case. After all, he didn't have it in his collection and always kept everything pristine and in order. Pushing the bin back under the bed, you stood up with the VHS case in your hand. Walking across the floor, you paused at the door. Looking back at the bed, you worried on your bottom lip, staring at Patrick's pillow. Your mind battled itself as you thought about the pros and cons of just stealing his pillow. You knew Patrick hated when you moved or really touched his things without asking him or letting him know. You understood that, you felt the same with some of your things. You knew he had some sort of OCD, aside from that he was a perfectionist; needed everything to be perfect all the time. So, stealing his pillow, from its rightful spot on his neatly made bed... Would probably irritate the hell out of him when he got home. But, the pros of this, stealing his pillow... Would be that you could cuddle with it, hold it while you sat on the couch watching your movie, and pretend he was with you as the smell of his expensive cologne engulfed you.

You were going to take that risk, whatever the risk was. Speeding over, you grabbed the pillow before heading back into the living room. Clutching the pillow under one arm, you could already smell Patrick's cologne as you took your movie out of the case and slid the VHS tape into the VHS player. Grabbing the remote, you fell onto the couch, wiggling around to get comfortable as you tucked your legs under yourself. You fast-forwarded the trailers for other movies and commercials before you began your movie; snuggling your back against the plush of the couch, pressed flush against it. Wrapping both arms around Patrick's pillow, you dug your face into it briefly, inhaling deeply. Letting out a content sigh, you closed your eyes, relaxing further into the couch, savoring the feeling before paying attention to your movie as the opening credits began. 

You didn't hear the sound of rattling keys or the door knob turning as Patrick entered his apartment. Immediately he paused, hearing the sound of his TV playing in the living room. Shutting the door, he slowly made his way into said room, quickly spotting you huddled on his couch, eyes glued to the TV in front of you. Patrick turned to the television, observing it briefly before turning his cold gaze back to you. You didn't hear him come in, he speculated, before making himself known.

"I didn't know you were coming over." He spoke up, monotonously, making you jolt from surprise. 

You turned to see Patrick, eyes wide with your hand over your heart; beating heavily against your ribcage as you let out a deep exhale. "Patty, you scared me." Patrick didn't say a thing, instead walking over to the side of the couch and peering over at you, his eyes quickly finding you clutching tightly onto his pillow. You noticed his gaze, looking down at the pillow and back up at the man. "I missed you." You gave him an explanation, your voice soft, as you watched him nervously. Not that you were scared of what he might do, but because you didn't want him to push you away. He tried once, but that didn't really work out for him. 

Wordlessly, Patrick walked over, staring down at you with his dark, almost soulless eyes, snatching the pillow out of your arms. You watched, your own self silent, as he walked off to supposedly his bedroom, before returning. You watched him as he then sat down beside you, his left arm wrapping onto the back of the couch behind you. You glanced up at him once more as he simply ignored you, his eyes finding themselves on the TV just as the elevator began to open and spill out gallons upon gallons of blood. You turned back to your movie, becoming more and more at ease as the movie continued, realizing that Patrick wasn't going to scold you and let you know that if you were anyone else, he would've killed you.

He did that sometimes. You knew he couldn't help it, the thoughts and the feelings he got after talking to someone. How he craved blood and hated when people made him feel inferior. Well, he didn't tell you that, but your extensive knowledge of psychology helped you figure that one out. He told you about the time at that bar with the bartender and that Paul guy from his work at Pierce & Pierce. He stopped talking about Paul a couple of months ago, and you had an eerie feeling that Patrick had done something. Something that, thankfully, hadn't been happening as frequently as it used to anymore. To your knowledge.

But you loved Patrick. Deeply. Under that mask he wore, yes, he was a bit shallow and maybe a bit greedy, but he could be charming when he wanted to be. You admired how calm he could be, how collected he could become. Aside from how attractive he was, and how stylish he was, you found him incredibly intelligent and determined. The more you spent time with him, the more you fell for him. The more your attraction turned into one of love. And there was nothing he could say or do could change that. Nothing others could say or do could change that either. 

Yes, many people in your life had tried to warn you about Patrick, before and even when you began dating. It started with your best friend, who said that they had a terrible feeling about the guy after you introduced them to Patrick. They said his eyes were dull, his polite inflection in his voice was dry, and his laugh was humorless, almost unnerving. They called him a sociopath. Unable to feel anything, or understand the feelings of others. From just one lunch date, you had no idea where they came up with that so fast, but you had figured that out about Patrick after the first week of dating. 

In the beginning, Patrick was pretty cold-hearted, not really caring much about you, and only himself. During dates at fancy restaurants, he'd talk about himself, and complain about the waitress or the wine. He even ordered for you a couple of times. And when the waitress asked if you and Patrick would like to hear about the specials, he replied, 'Not if you want to keep your spleen.' Though, when you thought that the date with Patrick was fruitless, minus his good looks and intelligence that had pulled you to him in the first place, he made a joke. 

He leaned back against the back of his seat, glancing around the room with a wide grin. He was talking about something, but you weren't fully paying attention, thinking about how vain and selfish he was before his next words gained your attention, "Even people who are good for nothing have the capacity to bring a smile to your face, like when you push them down the stairs." He said so simply, so easily as if he was saying something completely normal. As if that joke of his wasn't dark, grim. But that didn't stop you from cracking a smile, even letting out a small laugh. Patrick stared at you. His fake smile slipped into a confused frown as he wondered why you were laughing. Were you laughing at him? 

"That's pretty funny," You had said, now ignoring his vain and selfish nature and falling deep into his dark sense of humor. It intrigued you.

"What is so funny?" He had then asked, his voice a bit deeper as his mind raced with different scenarios in which to kill you. You had to have been laughing at him, right?

You could only shake your head slightly, swirling the wine glass in your hand, "That joke. I've always been a fan of those kinds of jokes. Dark jokes can be offensive to some, but to me, I find them rather... Refreshing." You took a sip of your red wine, your eyes staring right into his.

That's when Patrick knew that you were different. 

And different you were. A psychology major, a senior at Harvard. Your mind was as sharp as your tongue, constantly analyzing anything and everything. You weren't some air-head that he dealt with at his work, or even someone he felt he needed to kill for making him feel inferior, as said before. It was quite the opposite. For the first time in a very long time, Patrick liked someone. Slowly, very slowly, he began to enjoy your presence. You were smart, and Patrick felt as if he could actually have conversations with you. And only two months into your relationship did Patrick confess to you that he had these dark desires for spilling blood and coitus. And that didn't stop you from going on another date, and another, and another... Patrick was over the shock of how calm you were, how nonjudgmental you were. Like him, deep down, you were like him.

Life with Patrick almost became second nature to you. Every so often, you'd come over to his apartment, whether that meant to watch a movie, go out to eat, or spend the night in his bed; you enjoyed your time with him, and you could only hope he felt the same. You hoped he cared about you. Loved you as you loved him. The more you got to know Patrick, pushing through the mask he wore, the more and more you thought that maybe Patrick's interest in you wasn't love and more of an obsession. An obsession with you. The more Patrick grew interested in you, the more he wanted you. Though, you began to suspect the opposite the longer your relationship with the man continued. 

Sometimes you found Patrick staring at you when you were reading, cooking in his kitchen, or even sometimes when you woke up. But as fast as you catch him, he looks away as if he was never even looking at you in the first place; getting ready for the day with his routine or leaving the room. There was even a time when before you knew that he hated when you stole his clothes, that he gifted you a bottle of his cologne. Besides the clothes and the occasional simi-sentimental gifts, that cologne was your favorite thing Patrick had ever given you. You practically sprayed it on everything you owned.

Sometimes, even if you were both on the couch watching TV, his hand would end up in your hair. It would start off slow, his fingers just brushing the tips of your hair before gradually digging deeper into your locks, the tips of his fingers gently scratching your scalp. Though the soothing touch would leave once Patrick caught himself doing it. It was rare for it to happen, only happening when Patrick was too enthralled in whatever movie, so you cherished it whenever it did. You even called him 'Pattycakes' once. If he didn't care, he would've killed you for sure, but instead, he just told you not to call him that. So there were certain events that made you believe that Patrick really did care for you. It became clear that it was an obsession… With love sprinkled here and there.

Just like right now, sitting on his couch in front of the TV, watching 'The Shining.' Deep into the movie, you snapped out of your trance, feeling Patrick's hand land on your shoulder. You didn't even notice that he even scooted closer to you on the couch, his thigh brushing up against yours. You tried to pay attention to the movie once more, but you become hyper aware of his hand, his touch in general. You wanted so badly just to cuddle into his side. You looked up at him again, seeing him still staring at the screen, watching intently as Jack chased his wife around the hotel with an axe. He kept moving his hand, every now and then, rubbing circles on your upper shoulder. He didn't look at you. You couldn't tell if he knew what he was doing or not. 

Taking a chance, much like you did with his pillow, you leaned your head on his shoulder. You couldn't help but smile, feeling as he tensed before slowly relaxing. Nearing the end of the movie, the hand on your shoulder moved up to your neck and began massaging your skin softly, pulling you close to him. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, enjoying how comfortable the couch was, and how nice he smelled, that scent that seemed to linger on you no matter how many times you showered, as you closed your eyes. Within minutes, you were asleep. 

Patrick watched the screen as it panned to Jack frozen to death in the hedge maze, the movie slowly ending afterward. Grabbing the remote from the glass coffee table in front of him, his arm tight around your shoulders as he shut off the TV. Looking down at you, Patrick stared at your sleeping form, the light from the lamp casting shadows across your face. His gaze drifted from your peaceful features, tracing the outline of your face with his eyes. His eyes flicked to the freckles that sprinkled your cheeks, the way your lashes fluttered and danced against your zygomatic bone, and then down to your lips. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he maneuvered you in his arms, placing one arm around your back and the other under your legs. Carrying you to his room, he laid you on the bed, untucking the covers from underneath you to properly tuck you in. 

Letting out a deep exhale from his nose, he stared down at you, a tad annoyed. He hadn't planned for you to stay over. As he gazed down at you, his thoughts began, ‘She irritates me to no end and yet I have succumbed to her every move, every glance, every breath. I haven't a clue of how, I am still unsure of this feeling, what it may be. Obsession or some infatuation, but if this is what they call love, then what does it feel like? She drives me insane and yet I don't want to be anywhere else but by her side. And yet she makes me so angry because I cannot stand her presence. It's like my insides are burning, melting, and fusing, making my body melt until I'm nothing but an empty shell. I should hate her. Yet, I do not. And this craving, this hunger for the flesh has dwindled, though not completely gone. This desire for her, her touch, her presence, her, still gnaws at me like an animal. She can see through the facade I've put up for years, and yet, she doesn't seem bothered by it. I cannot understand it. Maybe she, similar to myself, is simply not there.'

Pushing past that, he sat down on the bed beside you. He watched as your chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the way your lips parted slightly, and it made Patrick feel warm inside. It upset him. How could you, how could you do this to him? He hated how vulnerable you made him feel, though he'd deny it vehemently later on. His lips pressed together, and he shook his head before leaning forward. Brushing your hair out of the way with his slender fingers, Patrick pressed his lips against your neck, his nose nudging into your ear lobe. The contact was gentle, almost too gentle for a man like Patrick Bateman as the overwhelming realization that you were irreplaceable fell upon him. In quick, swift movements, Patrick stood from the bed, leaving to begin his night-time routine as he reminded himself to return some videotapes in the morning. 

[starletdawn]

friends with benefits

You and Patrick are friends with benefits but what happens when he starts wanting you as his own.

You and Patrick have been friends for quite a few years now and there’s no doubt you two felt attraction to each other. For a long time you two only categorizes this feeling as just lust. Both of you guys had agreed to hookup without being in a committed relationship. Most recently Patrick started seeing you differently. You were only available to meet up with him on Saturday nights. Patrick being the horny man he is would hooks up with different women throughout the entire week. Yet for the last couple of weeks he has only been seeing you. He feels as if he’s being disloyal to you he has never felt like that for someone before. It was like any Sunday morning waking up on Patrick’s bed. You stare at him as he’s still asleep. His a toned body,the way his messy hair fell on his face, his sharp jawline (A: he mews at least 2 hours per day). You were mesmerized by his beauty you wanted him all to yourself. He slowly starts opening his eyes and turns to you. “Good morning” he says yawning softly staring into your eyes. “Good morning” you say back This was usually your cue that you had to leave already. You slowly get up from bed when his hand wraps around your waist.

“You wouldn’t mind staying longer here?” He suggests “I can’t do anymore rounds, my body is exhausted Patrick” you respond. He was very rough in bed your legs were still sore from last night.

“No, not like that” he chuckles “I simply want your company” “Sure” you say still shocked of Patrick’s new behavior. He pulls you back into his bed softly his hand still on your waist. He slowly moves you closer until you were both cuddling each other.You couldn’t be happier to be in Patrick’s arms. He didn’t really do aftercare so it came to a surprise when he was checking up on you.

“You said your body was exhausted, did I go on for to long last night?” He questions.

“Well yes but honestly It was very pleasurable and I loved every moment of it.”`You chuckle “Great that’s all I want” he says he gently tilts your chin to make you look at him “I don’t ever want to hurt you okay?” You could hear the genuine care in his voice. you couldn’t believe Patrick Bateman out of all people was showing concern for you. He slowly opens his drawer taking out a small white box. “I got you a gift”He grins “Really?” You question thinking you must misheard something. He nods you can’t help but smile. “Close your eyes.” He whispers into your ear with a husky voice his hot breath on your neck. “Also sit up for darling.” You do so you feel his hands on your neck After a few minutes you hear him say “Now open them.” You open your eyes seeing a precious Vivienne Westwood white pearl necklace hanging on your neck. “thank you” you say softly “but I can’t take this” You knew Patrick was insanely wealthy and this was nothing to him but you still felt guilty taking something so luxurious and glamorous. “No,take it I bought with you in mind it” he says “you’re worth every cent in my pocket and so much more. If you ever need help in anything at all financial issues, you need errands done, or just need company count on me okay?” He says his dark brown eyes staring into your eyes he looked at you so tenderly and lovingly. You swore his pupils were turning into hearts you felt something so different so warm,so alive, so loved. He slowly leans in to your lips pressing in a kiss. There was no lust or hunger behind that kiss. It was a rather gentle loving kiss.He slowly pulls away with a smile admiring your beautiful face. He caress your cheek. “Would you like to spend the day with me?” He says softly “we can go get breakfast and go shopping,It honestly doesn’t matter I just to be around you.” “i would love to” you grin he gets up from the bed and slowly picks you up carrying you like a bride. You can’t help but giggle. He softly kisses your forehead “I love you” he whispers “I Love you too dear” you say

Hey guys not to sound like Wikipedia or desperate YouTuber i would really appreciate a follow!! I’m trying to grow my account. Thank you for all the likes!!

[deadricslover]

little admirer

here's my masterlist!

a/n: I've been stuck for ideas I'm sorry I've been gone :/ but hopefully I will get back into the routine of posting! this is also shorter than usual but I didn't want to drag it out lol

summary: you always hated getting bombarded by 'fans' of Bruce and the paparazzi. You didn't think this encounter would be any different but you were wrong. It was actually one of the most wholesome ones and definitely your favourite.

warnings: this really isn't about Bruce but he's the boyfriend ok? so...ya. and scars I guess NOT PROOFREAD

pairings: bale!Bruce Wayne x gn!musician!eader

-------------------------------------------------

When you looked out the window and saw the crowds of people outside, your fear reached its pinnacle. The only thing you wanted was to spend your anniversary with Bruce alone, free from intrusions other than kisses, of course. Yet that was all wishful thinking. It was obvious that it would not occur. Given your animosity for the paparazzi, Bruce had made an effort to ease your fears, but in reality, you both knew you would just have to get through it. You might have thought you would get used to it since you were also a fairly well-known musician, but not as much as Bruce, the prince of Gotham. However, Bruce took your hand and urged you to break the habit of chewing your nails while staring at the crowd.

"how do they even know you're here?" to ask turning to him

he huffs and shakes his head in thought. "I don't know. maybe someone saw us walking in"

"can we not go to dinner in peace? I mean.." you were at a loss for words, you didn't know how people could be so invasive and inconsiderate.

"I know. I know" he soothes gently kissing your hand and stroking your opposite shoulder whilst his arm is around your back.

"do you want to just get it done?" he inquires and you knew it was the smart thing to do even though you didnt want to. at all.

"yeah sure" you reply turning away and grabbing some last minute things off the bed. On the way out of the elevator, Bruce gently yet firmly places his hand on your waist in order to keep you close. Cameras flash, questions are thrown as you try to make your way through the flood of people. Bruce usually liked to put away a minute or two for some real fans who just wanted a high five off of Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't so sure about right now. You encouraged him to do it, not to break tradition and said you would wait elsewhere. Usually people would recognise you, but Bruce Wayne was right there so of course nobody would pay attention to you...not that you were complaining. A couple people did ak for a photo and you kindly obliged as long as they were sincere about it. As you stood watching Bruce interact with kids and their parents, not paying any mind to reporters, you feel a little tap on your arm. You look around and notice a little girl standing next to you with loving eyes. You crouch down to the little girl thinking maybe she was lost.

"hi sweetie. Are you ok?" you ask the child glancing around to see if her parents were anywhere to be found.

"I'm very good." she replies cheerfully

"awh that's good. where are your parents?" you ask

"getting a photo with Bruce Wayne."

"ooohh. everyone wants to don't they? he's really famous" you emphasize trying to make conversation with the girl

"not as famous as you, though"

she knew who you were? that's so sweet "no no. Bruce is way way more famous than me. but thank you! what's your name?"

"Camilla. You're my favourite person, ever!" she jumps lightly squealing.

oh my- of your heart wasn't throbbing before. it sure is now. the smile on your face couldn't be bigger.

"awh that's so sweet! you're my favourite person too, Camilla!"

"can I tell you a secret" she whispers after a couple moments of silence

"of course you can" you tell her pretending to zip your lips and lock them. She rolls up her t-shirt a little to show you a scar on her tummy. Whatever caused that scar, you felt horrible, especially because she said it was a secret. your eyebrows draw together as a reaction to your reaction.

"I used to hate it and cry all the time because I thought it was weird. but then I found out that you had one too, and now I love it, because my favourite person in the whole wide world has the same thing as me!" she tells. you honestly could cry. A little girl hating something about her body ay such a young age is bad enough but also the fact that she grew to love it because you had one too?! your heart throbbed.

"I do have one. it's on my arm. But yours is so much more beautiful"

"I got mine from an operation when I was a baby" she informs you butchering the word operation as any child would.

"ooh interesting. see all those people asking Bruce for a photo? with all the cameras? well I got mine from them. one time I finished a show and was going home and they hurt me" you recall in simple terms

"my mommy and daddy hurt you?" she asks shocked

"no! not your parents. some others that don't work there anymore."

"that's sad" she replies

she looks off into the crowd for a second and waves to her parents before telling you she has to go now-- not before asking for a hugh though. you kindly oblige without a second thought and embrace the girl smiling. her parents walk over and thank you for being kind to her and watching her. you tell them it was no problem as they leave and you wave to the little girl. Right on queue the famous Bruce wayne walks over without you noticing

"she seemed to love you"

"tell me about it. I'm her favourite person ever in the whole wide world" you recall

"she's not the only one" he adds to taking your hand in his and starts walking

you smile lightly and nudge Bruce slightly "she showed me something too. she had this scar on her stomach from a surgery when she born and she used to always be insecure about it" you start

"that's horrible, she's only young" he butts in genuinely sorry for the girl

"yeah, but the nice part that she found out that I also had a scar the same shape as hers and because of that she grew to love it...all because I had one too!" you exclaim still in disbelief

"you're such an influence. that's so sweet" he responds continuing to walk. "it is isn't it?" you reply placing your head on his shoulder while strolling to the restaurant. Usually you hate the paparazzi, but this time was different, it was sincere and sweet. definitely your favourite so far.

[luvriablack]

I can't resist you

(I can't resist u)

Pov: U and Patrick have an argument but it seems that u both love each other no matter what u two say...

Warnings: cursing? Mentions of killing. Enjoy 😉

It was a day that I and Patrick were arguing. It was morning and we were in the kitchen. " U are a psycho nothing else! U don't even care about me. I am trying to be nice to you and all u do is humiliate me !" I say

Patrick looks at you with a cold expression.

"You dare to insult me?" He says, raising his voice. "Who is talking? The pathetic girl that does nothing except cook and clean for me?" He asks.

"You know what you are to me? Nothing more than a plaything, and the fact that you keep trying to be friends with me disgusts me. Stop trying so hard. I'm going to work." He says and he starts to walk out of the kitchen.

His words hurt me a lot " fuck u" I simply say and go to our room to pack my things

Patrick hears you and he stops. He has a hard time processing your words.

Did you really say that to him? He looks surprised. He then smiles "Oh, come on, my love. You said a bad word, but we can't just break up over that." He says.

"Look, I'm sorry for anything I said. I didn't mean it. It's just that...it's hard for me to be with one person for a long time." He says and he approaches you and takes you by the shoulders.

I freaked out. Was he cheating on me or something? Why would he say that? Maybe he was just angry at that moment I think "WHAT DO U MEAN BY THAT? IF U DONT WANT TO BE WITH ME JUST SAY IT" I yell at him

Patrick looks at you again, he's not smiling this time.

"Oh right, I guess I have to tell you." He says and he sighs. He takes your hands in his.

"Yeah, you're right. I can't be with one person forever. But what if I told you that I'm trying to change? I want to be a better man for you. I want to be someone you deserve." He says.

I glare at him" I saw a notebook of yours. U wrote " I wanna have sex with her and maybe I could just kill her with me inside her" " I say and continue glaring" Are u trying to kill me?"

He was disgusting. I can't believe I was in love with a killer

Patrick stares at you in a surprised way.

The notebook was never supposed to be found, it was supposed to be a hidden part of his deepest thoughts.

"No, my love. I'm not trying to kill you." He says.

"Oh, who am I kidding." He says and he shakes his head. "I don't know what to say, okay? Yes, I wrote it. Yes, those words are my deepest thoughts." He says and he puts his hand on his head. I glare at him" Thoughts or plans???" I ask

Patrick is silent for a few seconds and then he sighs.

"No, they aren't just thoughts." He says. "These thoughts are just a part of me."

He looks away for a moment and then he glances at you again.

"I...I can't help it...but sometimes I have fantasies...fantasies of killing the people I love." He says.

Patrick pauses, he strangely stares at you, he's smiling but there's something else in his eyes. "Do you understand, my love?" He asks." I am your girlfriend!!" I slap his face

Patrick doesn't respond to your slap, he just grabs you by the arm, he gently puts his hand on your face and he caresses your cheek.

"Yes, you're my girlfriend. And I would never want to hurt your precious face. I've been trying to push those thoughts of mine away for months, my love. But they're always there."

"I've always wanted to be the person you deserve...I've tried, my dear. But I just can't change." Patrick says, in a solemn way.

" U want to kill me!" I gasp while saying it

Patrick sighs. "In all honesty, I had thoughts about it. But they're just thoughts. Why would I want to kill the girl I love? You're everything to me, my dear."

He looks you in the eyes in a tender way.

"My love, I promise you that you're completely safe with me. I only had thoughts, like everyone does. I swear, my love. I'll never, ever hurt you. I can't hurt you. You're my world." He says, in a loving way.

Timeskip: You ended up calming down but at night u wouldn't want to sleep with him

"Let's stop talking about killing. I love you and I know you love me, my dear." He says and he caresses your face again. "Can we just forget this for tonight or the conversation we'll just end up fighting?" He asks.

Patrick says as he cames back from the bathroom that he was in before

" fine but...I won't sleep with u. I will be on the couch sleeping. So I can know that u won't hurt me" I say

Patrick chuckles.

"I love how innocent you are, my dear. Come on, my love. Don't you trust me enough to sleep in the same bed?" He asks.

"What if I promise to not hurt you? What if I promise to not even make a move on you tonight? Will you come to bed with me?" He asks, in a sweet way.

I can't resist him so I eventually agree

Patrick smiles.

"You're such a good girl, my love. Thank you for your trust." He takes your hand and he starts to walk towards his room.

"I'll make you breakfast tomorrow, okay?" He says, in a loving voice.

I sigh" okay but...don't touch me!" I take my hand away from his

Patrick's face shows a disappointed expression.

He takes a deep breath and he walks towards his bedroom. He opens the door and he walks inside.

You follow and you enter what seems to be a luxurious bedroom. A huge bed with silk covers, a huge dresser with suits, ties and cologne. A giant mirror in the back and two lamps on the tables. There are two windows that show a nice view of the city.

Patrick waits at the side of the bed. "Are you coming to bed, my love?" He asks.

Patrick takes off his suit and puts it in the huge dresser.

His body is completely muscular, there isn't an ounce of fat on his body. He's tall, and his six pack is perfectly sculpted due to his consistent exercise routine. He is the epitome of perfection.

He walks towards you, his feet making no sounds as he is only wearing his underwear.

He lays next to you in the bed. "Are you comfortable, my love?" He asks you.

I nod and turn my back on him as I close my eyes

Patrick stares at you for a few seconds.

From your back you look so delicate. He wants to touch you.

But, you told him not to. So he respects your wishes. However, he can't just stay there. So Patrick grabs your waist and he moves you a little towards him.His body is touching yours, and there's nothing you can do to prevent that.

I don't take his hand away. He is warm. I hold his hand and go closer to him

Patrick smiles and he caresses your hair.

"Don't worry, my love. I won't bite." He says, in a playful way.

He starts to kiss your neck. At first, it's sweet and tender, yet, he keeps going until he reaches your ear and he bites it with his teeth. He then lets go of your waist and with your hair in his hand, he kisses you softly. It's an entirely different feeling than before, this kiss felt real. It felt like Patrick loves you.

I close my eyes. Everything is going according to plan I say to myself and sleep

Do u want a part 2?

[julebirdie]

cinema

ft. dk batman/bruce wayne

reader is gn

not requested

disc. reader wears beaded bracelets (not rlly a disc), bruce is a total flirt, fourth wall is broken like two times, use of (y/n), reader likes horror movies

in all honesty, bruce had no idea why he was there, in front if that glass door. the sign above it read ‘g central films.’ it was a hole-in-the-wall store in the heart of gotham, most people passed by it without a second thought. so why didn’t he? what drew him here?

looking around for paparazzi—even though he disguised himself well enough— bruce pushed the door open and heard a bell ding above him. the store was very cluttered, film posters decorated the walls as semi-organized shelves held a wide array of movies, magazines, books, and merchandise.

“hi, sorry, i’ll be with you in a second!” a voice called out from a storage closet, and bruce took off the hood he was wearing, and took to strolling the shelves. he ran his fingers along the spines of the many medias present, feeling new and old items against his fingertips.

the sound of beaded bracelets clinking against each other was the largest indicator of someone’s presence, and an employee—who bruce could assume was also the owner— stood at the opening of the shelf-made hallway.

“holy shit-“ you gasped. when you came into work today, you expected many things. maybe scarecrow would break out of arkham and fear gas the city, or you’d be robbed by some goon, but having billionaire bruce wayne standing in your store was not on that list.

“i’m sorry- excuse my language- what can i help you with mr. wayne?” you asked.

“please, call me bruce.” he said, walking up to where you stood and stuck his hand out, inviting you to shake it—which you did.

“right, bruce, looking for anything in particular?” you inquired, letting your hand fall to your side as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“to be completely honest with you, i didn’t come here with anything in mind,” bruce said, winking, “unless a cute store owner wants to recommend me something.”

your heart started to beat ridiculously fast, it wouldn’t have surprised you if bruce could hear it.

“erm- uh- do you have any genres you like? maybe we could start there?”

“hm, never really paid attention to film genres,” bruce shrugged. he absolutely did pay attention to them, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to spend time with you, the cute movie enthusiast.

“right, um, i really like horror, uh, i have a few favorites if you wanna pick from them,” you mentally punched yourself for the constant nervous stuttering, though bruce found it very charming.

“sounds good to me, lead the way…”

“(y/n).”

“your name suits you.”

this flirting was gonna knock you off your feet.

you walked out from the shelf area and went behind the counter, digging in a box underneath. bruce stood in front, looking at the items in the glass display case that showcased the more expensive merchandise. whether it be an authentic autograph from cillian murphy (bruce wondered how you managed to get that,) a rare vinyl for a very popular band, or— bruce’s face heated up when he saw the batman-themed jewelry.

he was very flattered, can you tell?

“okay, here we are.” bruce snapped up from the items to see a small stack of horror movie cds propped in front of him. movies such as american psycho, scream, candyman, and the blair witch project caught his eye.

“anything catch your eye bruce? i can always find more if this isn’t up to your speed,” you said, tapping your fingers against the glass. bruce stared at the collection before picking up the cd for american psycho.

“i’ll go with this one,” he said.

“american psycho? alright, a lot of people think it’s garbage but i really like it— has anyone ever told you you look like christian bale?” you asked, picking up the rest of the cds before placing them where they were before.

“christian bale, hm. I definitely see a resemblance, is he your celebrity crush?” bruce teased, and you nearly dropped the cd as you were renting it out to him.

“pssh, no—i mean, not that you’re ugly you’re really handsome—uh, i mean—fuck-“ bruce laughed at the way you got when he teased you, it was adorable.

“right-heres your cd bruce,” you said, handing him the box with shaky hands. he took the box and gently lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of it.

“i think i’ll be coming here more often,” bruce said, pulling up his hood and walking out the store, sending a smile your way before he blended in with the bustling crowd of gotham.

you pressed your cold hands to your face, trying to cool down. today was eventful, more than you could’ve ever expected. and, you wouldn’t complain if bruce stopped by again.

[remuslovebot]

“You’re Batman and that’s wonderful. But I love Bruce Wayne more.”

You look into Bruce’s eyes pleadingly, your hands on his chest. You knew Gotham needed Batman but you needed Bruce and he wasn’t here.

Bruce looked down at you intensely. He didn’t want to lose you but he had to protect you. It was bad enough you knew about Batman. If any one of his enemies found out who he actually was, you would be a target. You were Bruce Wayne’s and Batman’s weakness.

He couldn’t stand to loose you.

Bruce whispered your name, “I need to protect Gotham. My city needs me.”

“I need you Bruce,” you said, eyes filling with small tears. “Tell me you need me too.”

Of course he needed you, Bruce thought. But in order to keep you safe and out of harms way he stayed silent.

You played with his tie slightly and looked down at the ground. A teardrop fell to the ground.

“I can’t lie to you. So I’m not going to say anything at all.” He said, his voice just above a whisper.

You looked up at him, “If you don’t say anything I’m going to walk away.” You said.

Bruce didn’t say anything. He was fighting the urge to pull you to him, hold you close and kiss you. But it wasn’t safe to be around him.

You nodded then and let you of your hands on his chest. “Goodbye Bruce.”

You turned around and walked away. Bruce watched you walk away from him and hoped you would find someone who could give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you those things. But Gotham needed him.

[eternalslover]

I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WRITE FOR THIS MAN RIGHT HERE

PLEASE I NEED SOME 1994 LAURIE WRITING PLEASE

AND IDC WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT HIM

ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT, HEADCANONS, BLURBS, DRABBLES, IMAGINES ECT

PLEASE I JUST NEED SOMETHING

I AM FEEDING ON CRUMBS AT THE MOMENT PLEASEEE

ALSO, I JUST NEED PEOPLE TO START WRITING FOR 1994 LITTLE WOMEN IN GENERAL

CAUSE LIKE- WHERE IS ALL THE STUFF FOR 1994 BETH?!?!

[spideybatsy]

A+B | Chapter Seven

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 3.3K

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging (reader becomes unconscious) 

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3 This is a long one but it takes us to our final chapter, so buckle up!

Masterlist

I look myself over in the full-length mirror. This is easily the most expensive outfit I’ve ever worn, and I haven’t quite come to terms with the fact it could pay for several week's rent. However, tonight is a very special evening and Bruce insisted I look and feel amazing.

The devil himself appears behind me, eyeing me up and down as he approaches.

“You look gorgeous,” his hand comes to rest at my waist.

“It’s not too much?” I ask, turning to look at him.

He’s in one of his finest suits, his tie colour coordinating with my outfit.  

“It’s just right.” As if sensing my anxiety, he gently kisses my lips. “You’re all people will be able to talk about.”

“I’m pretty sure that was going to be the case, either way.”

After six months of dating in private, we decided to go public last week. It was a tough decision to make and while I was sure it would change everything about my public image, I knew Bruce would be my side through it all.

Overall, it had gone over well. There had been a few bumps, mainly stares and glares from strangers on the street. The real issue came when I was stopped by a journalist. He wouldn’t leave me alone, even after I entered my work building. Security escorted me upstairs, where I took a moment to calm down before making my next move.

I wanted to call Bruce but I knew he’d overreact. He was powerful enough that he could ensure that journalist never worked again and regardless of how anxious it made me, I’d never want to ruin someone’s livelihood. So, I called the next best person.

“Alfred?”

I explained the situation to him and was shocked to hear how upset he became. I could tell he tried to compose himself for my sake, but the anger still slipped through his words. He’d been taking me to and from work since. I also made sure to let Bruce know about the incident that night when it was too late for him to personally track down the reporter.

I was snapped back to the current time when Bruce placed a small velvet box in my hand.

“I saw this and thought of you,” he smiled, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

Inside the box was a pendant of my favourite animal. I recognised it from the gift shop of the animal sanctuary he took me to on one of our first dates. It couldn’t have cost more than $30.

“I thought billionaire boyfriends were supposed to buy 400-carat diamond-encrusted necklaces?” I said, taking the necklace out of the box.

“Ah, that’s actually the seven-month anniversary gift,” Bruce said as I handed it to him.

I turned around and pulled my hair out of the way. “Guess I shouldn’t break up with you yet, then.”

Bruce laughed, clasping the necklace and hugged me from behind. He gazed at me in the mirror, as I stared at the pendant.

“Do you like it?” He asked, resting his head on my shoulder.

“It’s perfect.” I grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”

I saw him smile through the mirror. Not one of those smiles he shined for the camera. Not even the smile he just showed when he was comfortable. It was a new smile, one he only shared with me. It often included all his teeth and a small dimple on his left cheek. Every time I see it, my heart skips a beat.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” He twists his hand around and intertwines our fingers. “Since your lease ends next month and you already spend most of your time here, it may be easier to move in.”

“Easier for who, Mr Wayne?” I ask slyly.

“You, of course.” He plays along, “You’ll always get to sleep in my bed every night. How did you describe it the other night?”

“Incredibly comfortable.”

He hums, “Exactly. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“It’s only incredibly comfortable when you’re there with me,” I admit. “Otherwise, it’s just comfortable. Since you’re out most nights, I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

The joking look on Bruce’s face slips away as he turns me around to face him.

“It’ll also be easier for me because I’ll have something to look forward to every night.” He pushes my hair behind my ear. “A reason to come home.”

I run my hand up to his cheek, cupping it in my palm. “I’d love to move in with you, B.”

That smile of his pops up again and I feel the blush run up my cheeks. He leans in for another kiss, pulling away faster than I’d like.

“We better leave now, otherwise we’ll be even later.”

--

I’ve been to Gotham Museum many times during my residence in the city. It’s an incredibly large stone building with massive pillars out the front. Usually, it’s full of schoolchildren, retirees, and the occasional tourist. Tonight, it’s filled with the wealthiest Gotham has to offer. The path inside is flooded with interviewers, photographers, and the occasional camera man.

My palms get sweaty as I think about the journalist that followed me. As if clockwork, Bruce reaches over and takes my hand in his. He doesn’t comment on how sweaty my palm is.

“You’ll do great,” Alfred says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. “Just remember that once tonight is done, every other gala will be a cinch.”

I nod, squeezing Bruce’s hand tighter. Alfred pulls the car over in front of the luxurious red carpet. We agreed to do one interview, just a quick introduction to get my name and face out there before we head inside.

“Do you see the interviewer?” I ask, leaning to look out the window.

He grabs my shoulder, calmly leading me back to my seat. “Yes, she’s right there.” He points out a journalist in a red coat, “We’ll get out, say hello, and go inside.”

Bruce squeezes my thigh and opens the door.

People start instantly yelling at us, as the flash of cameras shines in our eyes. Bruce handles it like an expert, smiling at everyone before turning back to me and helping me out of the car. My hand shakes as he takes it, leaving a kiss on the back before intertwining our fingers. I smile shakily at the cameras, certain I must look like garbage compared to Bruce, who is so well put together.

“You look incredible,” he whispers, leading us down the carpet.

I squeeze his hand as we approach the journalist, Bruce squeezes back in reassurance.

“Mr Wayne, it’s lovely to see you again.” She says, shaking his hand. She then turns to me and sticks out her hand. “I’m Brooklyn Chu, it’s lovely to meet you.”

I shake her hand and introduce myself.

“Are you ready to get started?” Brooklyn asks, looking between us. I look over at Bruce, who is already gazing down at me.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” I say, comforted by his presence.

Brooklyn rolls the camera and introduces us to the audience. “So, everyone is dying to know how the prince of Gotham met his partner.”

When I look back at Bruce, he’s gazing at me again. I wonder if he’s just been looking at me the entire time and I suddenly feel bad for the interviewer. He squeezes my hand, the message loud and clear.

“We met a fundraiser for my work. Bruce walked in like he owned the room, with two dancers on his arm. He didn’t even glance my way,” I say. “It wasn’t until I was leaving that he acknowledged me. I ran straight into him and spilt my wine all over his expensive tux. I expected him to yell at me. Instead, he reassured me it was okay. Never thought I’d see him again, but we kept running into each other, even while just doing food shopping. After the sixth time, he finally asked me out to lunch.”

“That makes me sound awful.” Bruce laughed, burying his face in the top of my hair for a moment. “Do you want to hear my version?”

“Of course, I do,” I smiled.

“I went into this fundraiser and instantly saw you across the room,” he started.

“Liar!” I couldn’t help but interrupt.

“You were over at the buffet, dipping a strawberry in the chocolate fountain.” He then went on to describe the exact outfit I was wearing. “I couldn’t stop looking at you, but I had to be careful. If someone caught me, they’d instantly go over and snatch you away.”

I can’t stop the blush that runs up my neck and to my cheeks. “Oh my god.”

Bruce smiles at me, squeezing my hand again. “I don’t want to reveal my secrets, but I can honestly say I had never gone food shopping before or after running into you.”

I must look like a tomato to the camera, as I can feel the heat radiate off me. Now it’s my time to hide, as I wrap my arms around Bruce and shove my face into his chest. I can feel his laugh vibrate through him and he wraps his arms around me and rocks us side to side.

“I must say, you guys are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. When can we expect the wedding invites?” Brooklyn asks, reminding me people are watching.

I go to pull away, but Bruce won’t budge. So, I find myself looking at the interviewer while lying with my head on his chest.

“It may be a bit soon to start talking about marriage,” Bruce admits. “But I know that there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Every day I wake up a better man because of them.”

Brooklyn waits a count before switching off the camera. Bruce reaches out and shakes her hand, thanking her for her work.

“Anytime! You two were a pleasure to talk to, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Bruce finally loosens his arm, allowing me to pull away. His hand automatically reaches down, finds my hand, and entwines our fingers. The cameras keep flashing as he leads me down the carpet through the front door. I hardly notice the guards staring at me as we enter.

While there may not be people yelling for my attention, I feel almost everyone’s eyes land on us. Looking across the crowd, I see all types of reactions. Some people turn up their noses and look away, while others choose to just glare at me. The occasional person smiles, and I’m thankful.

“Are you ready to do the rounds or do you want something to drink first?” Bruce asks, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

“Drink, definitely a drink.”

The second I have a drink in my hand, I take a sip. I’m delighted to find out it's lemonade. Bruce confessed that he never actually drinks at these things, always finding a beverage that could pass as alcohol. I tend not to drink either, so I was happy to join him in this little act of deception.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks, squeezing my hand.

I take a moment to think before answering, “Overwhelmed.”

“It is a lot to take in,” he admits. “Whenever you’re ready to leave, we’ll head off. Just say the word.”

“Thank you.” Before I have the chance to say more, a woman walks over. Although I’ve never seen her in person before, I recognise her from some pictures in the manor.

“Rachel Dawes,” she sticks her hand out. I shake it and introduce myself.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she says. “I never thought someone would be able to tie down this one.”

I gaze over at Bruce, expecting him to look nervous. He’d told me all about his relationship with Rachel, including where it left off. I know she broke his heart but even after all this time, he’s kept those pictures up. Instead, I find him watching me, careful to take in my reaction. I do the only thing I can think of and squeeze his hand.

The corners of his lips turn up as he squeezes back.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” I’m pulled out of the moment when a man walks over and shakes Bruce’s hand. He turns to me, “Harvey Dent.”

“Of course, you’re the district attorney,” I say, quickly introducing myself. We also shake hands, and he steps back to lay a hand on Rachel’s back.

I find myself checking back on Bruce but when he notices, he furrows his eyebrows. Instead of squeezing, he starts rubbing patterns on the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Is this your first gala?’’ Rachel asks.

“I’ve been to a fundraising gala, but it was nowhere near as fancy as this,” I admit.

“It can be really intimidating at first,” Harvey responds. “But everyone is harmless. They’re just jealous that you caught the big fish.”

“Based on what I’ve learnt tonight, I think the big fish caught me.” Everyone laughs.

“Well, we’ll leave you to mingle.” Rachel smiles, “if you have any trouble, let us know.”

The second they leave; Bruce turns to me. We go to speak at the same time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”  

Bruce furrows his eyebrows, “why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I know how much Rachel means to you, seeing her with a different man must hurt.” I take his other hand in mine, also intertwining those fingers.

“Just when I think you can’t get any cuter,” Bruce smiles. “A year ago, I would’ve been upset. Now I have everything I could ever want right in front of me.”

I look up at him through my lashes.

“I love you so much,” He pulls me into a hug. “You’re the only person I care about.”

“I love you too,” I whisper in his ear. “But what about Alfred?”

Bruce laughs, rubbing his hand up and down my back. “Okay, you and Alfred are the only people I care about.”

--

We manage to make it halfway around the room before Bruce is dragged into a business discussion. I stay by his side for a while, pretending to understand what they were talking about when my eyes catch the chocolate fountain in the corner.

“Go have some strawberries,” Bruce whispers into my ear. “I’ll be done soon.”

Unable to resist, I slip away from the group and slink over to the table. Just as I reach for a piece of fruit, another hand brushes mine. We both pull back and I turn to look. The first thing I notice are his eyes, they are the clearest blue orbs I’ve ever seen. His glasses sit on the edge of his nose, somehow enhancing the colour.

“Sorry about that,” his voice catches me off guard. “I can’t resist a chocolate fountain.”

“I can’t blame you,” I chuckle, hoping to clear some of the tension. “They’re irresistible.”

His eyes trail down my body before coming back up to rest on my necklace. “Interesting choice.”

I instinctively fiddle with it. “It was a gift from my partner.”

“Bruce Wayne.” He glances over at the man. “A very interesting man.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I have no idea what else to say.

“Where are my manors,” he stretches his hand out. “I’m Doctor Jonathan Crane.”

I introduce myself while we exchange a quick handshake. “You’re the head psychologist at Arkham Asylum, right?”

He seems taken aback, “the one and only.”

“I did my undergraduate in psychology before falling into social work,” I say.

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you major in?”

We end up talking for a solid 20 minutes before Bruce makes his way over. He instantly weaves his fingers through mine, leaning over to kiss my forehead.

“How are the strawberries?”

“Oh,” I turn to look at the fountain. “I haven’t tried one yet. Dr Crane and I got to talking about Arkham.”

“You’re more than welcome to come and visit,” Jonathan says. “I’d love to help if you end up doing your masters.”

I can’t help but light up at his words. I’d been eager to do my MA in psychology, but I needed to work full-time to survive in Gotham. My BA was completed part-time, but my master’s was only offered full-time. Bruce brought it up a few months ago and reassured me he’d cover me.

There were a few months until applications closed, so I had time to think about it, but talking to Crane made me excited for the future.

“I’ll definitely take you up on that,” I smile.

Crane says his goodbyes and makes sure to shake my hand before disappearing back into the party. I was so caught up that I don’t notice that he doesn’t shake Bruce’s hand, just nods.

“Here,” Bruce held out a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Better late than never.”

--

After indulging in too many strawberries, we go to the dance floor. The music is slow, as people gracefully glide across the floor. The two of us settle on swaying side to side, pressed as close as possible.

“Have you had a good night?” The timbre of his voice rattles my chest.

“It’s been…” I search for the word, “interesting.”

“Good interesting or bad interesting?”

“Just interesting.”

I spot a woman behind Bruce. She looks me up and down before turning to her friend, saying something that makes them both laugh. Embarrassed, I lie my head in the crook of Bruce’s neck.

“Is everything okay?” He traces soothing circles on my back.

I consider lying for a moment but think better of it. “Some people are just rude for no reason.”

He hums, “People are so disappointed in their own lives that they need to bring others down to feel better.”

It sounds cliché but I know it’s true. Bruce has been the unobtainable bachelor for years and then he ends up with an everyday Gothamite. It’s sure to turn heads, a lot of them previous pursuers.

“Don’t ever let me turn into that,” the words slip out of my mouth before I can think.

Bruce instantly pulls away, cradling my cheek in his palm.

“Never.” His words feel like a promise, a vow. The guarantee of a long, happy life. “I wouldn’t be with you if I thought you could be like that.”

I lean in and give him a short, sweet kiss. He tries to follow as I pull away, so I place a finger on his lips.

“Mr Wayne, there are people watching us.”

He goes to bite my finger, so I shriek and pull it away. His smile is as cheeky as ever.

“I think it’s time to go home, anyway.” The way he says home warms me. “I’ve been wanting to rip your clothes off from the moment I saw you.”

I feel the tips of my ears turn red. “You have always had impeccable patience.”

“Yes, well it’s wearing thin now.” He kisses my forehead. “If I start saying goodbye now, we’ll be back home in 20.”

“I’ll call Alfred and get our coats,” I pull away. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Bruce grins as I walk to the hall, waving at Rachel and Harvey as I pass. The attendant quickly gets our coats and I put them over my arm as I wait near the door.

Alfred answers after a few rings, greeting me as always.

“How has the gala been?” I can hear him pick up the car keys.

“Good! A few glares here and there but I met,” I start abruptly coughing, having had something sprayed in my face.

I hear Alfred call my name as my phone drops to the ground. My lungs feel like they try to escape my body as I cough to the point of gagging. Black dots start to dance around my vision.

“I am sorry about this, truly.”

I turn to look at the speaker but it’s too late, my vision darkens completely and I collapse to the floor.

[batemansluvrr]

— 𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬

i know this is short, but this is my first time writing fluff. hope y’all don’t mind!! (maybe i’ll do a part two)

enjoy your reading!🤍

song i used as inspo: wicked game - chris isaak

word count: 448

The rays of the sun passing through Patrick’s bedroom window woke you up and you immediately turned to see your boyfriend relaxed face before noticing that he was already awake. He was staring at you in a romantic way, as if he was intrigued by your sleeping figure. He smiled softly and got on top of your delicate body and started caressing your cute cheeks. You giggled and kissed his hand, amazed by his perfect features. Patrick stopped for a moment before leaning down and starting to leave a trail of wet kisses on your exposed neck, tickling it. Your hands made their way to his messy yet perfect hair, stroking them a bit.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said before kissing your forehead. You met his hazel eyes and gave him a soft peck. “Morning.” Your lips couldn’t stop forming a smile at the heavenly sight you were admiring. Patrick jokingly placed his head between your breasts, looking at you from below. He then moved his hand to your belly, caressing your pretty body. “We’re gonna have a beautiful little boy or girl.” He smirked and hugged you tightly without broking the eye contact.

“My pretty little angel.” He had a serious face now, enchanted by your stunning beauty. Your heart was melting at the sound of his sweet words, and that made you cup his cheeks and kiss him a million times again. You couldn’t get enough of him, because you knew you couldn’t resist him. You loved the fact that he could have been lovely and attractive at the same time. Even though you couldn’t escape his wicked games. Every time Patrick acted like that, you knew he had something strange in mind, but still, you didn’t care. You returned to reality when he stood up and reached the bathroom while you finally decided to search your underwear under the blanket. After a minute, you still couldn’t find it and you decided to join him in the bathroom, surprising him. A towel covered his intimacy while he was doing his expensive skin-care. You washed your hands and face noticing how many products Patrick used. He positioned behind of you, hugging your pretty frame, admiring your naked form through the mirror.

“Thank you so much for everything, for this time, for our future together and most importantly for loving me.” He murmured into your ear, playing with your lobe. You smiled brightly and turned to see his encouraging face. “You don’t have to thank me.” Your voice reassured him, while your hands were massaging his shoulder. Patrick caressed your cheek gently with a genuine smirk printed on his lips before kissing you again.

“Let's have breakfast now.”

[prettyyoungandbored]

Can you please write some more Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x reader where they’re married or trying to get pregnant or find out she’s pregnant? Or maybe she’s pregnant and attacked? or she goes into labor?

Pregnant [Bale!Bruce Wayne]

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

NOT MY GIF

Those two lines were the most damning things she’d ever seen.

Billions of thoughts filled her mind as she leaned back against the wall. How was she going to tell him? How would he react?

They had talked about kids before, and both agreed to wait until the timing was right…and yet, here was the positive test and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

The Joker was causing chaos and mayhem in the city and Bruce/Batman was dedicated in putting an end to it.

Maybe I could hold off telling him? She pondered to herself. She quickly shook her head. Bruce would catch on. She couldn’t hide a damn thing from that man.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Bruce inquired from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, I, uhm…” She sighed and put the test in her robe pocket. “Can you come in here?”

The door opened and Bruce entered, smiling. “If you’re planning on bailing out of this party, I hope you plan on bringing me with you.”

She let out a tiny chuckle. “I’m not the one who told Harvey I would throw him a fundraiser.”

He tilted his head. “What’s going on then?”

She exhaled. It was now or never. “I, uhm, realized I was…that I haven’t had my period in a while…and I…I mean, you know I’ve been sick in the mornings and…”

She shook her head and pulled out the test from her robe. “It’s positive. I’m pregnant and I am scared shitless.”

Bruce’s eyes fixated on the test. He took the stick from her hands.

“I still need to confirm with it my doctor so I’ll make an appointment for -.”

“We’re…having a baby?” he asked, his eyes moving up to meet hers.

“I know this is the worst timing and I know this the last thing you need-.”

She stopped when she saw his smile. It was the same smile he gave her when he told her “I love you”, the same one he had on when she said “yes” to his proposal and “I do” at their wedding.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he repeated.

She nodded her head, her own smile playing out on her lips. “Yeah, we are.”

He dropped the test and cupped her face, pulling her in for a kiss. Her arms wrapped behind his neck as his hands moved from her face to her waist.

Pulling back, his hands made their way to her stomach. His forehead rest against hers.

“You’re ok with this?” she whispered.

“How can I not be?”

“Really?” She laughed and looked up at him. “You’re going after a psycho clown that’s running amok in the city and you’re ok with me being pregnant?”

“Its almost over,” he told her. “Once he’s done, I’m done. Harvey will take over and you and I can focus on being parents.”

The dream played out in her head. Her and Bruce marveling are their baby as they sat on a picnic blanket in the backyard of Wayne Manor. It would be the three of them against the world.

The thought of it made her heart flutter.

“Can we just cancel tonight and celebrate?” she pleaded.

“How about we make an appearance, converse a little, then escape?” he suggested. “We can celebrate in private elsewhere and then after tonight, no more parties. No more galas.”

She hummed in delight. “You promise?”

“I haven’t broken one yet and I don’t intend to break this one.”

His adoring smile was enough to convince her. “You always know how to get your way, Mr. Wayne.”

He winked and kissed the top of her head before walking off.

Then it hit her.

“Wait, what do I do if they ask me why I’m not drinking?” She snapped her fingers. “What am I thinking? I’ll tell them I’m doing a cleanse. Those idiots will buy it.”

[sosa2imagines]

Bucky Barnes Imagine

Imagine you and Bucky are in a relationship. Slowly he remembers his time with Natasha in the red room and he starts to spend more time with her. He hangs out less with you and more with Natasha. One day he breaks up with you to be with Nat, leaving you. So hopefully you do move on in future physically and mentally. You do find love again. So who will it be from the DC world.