#christian bale oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anitalenia · 2 months

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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𝒄𝒘: sexual content ahead, husband!bale!batman, fem!reader on top, riding, some dirty talk, soft sex, not my best writing but fr fr don’t come for me im just trying to post things okay? ahhhhhhh 😔🤚🏻 maybe some typos 😚 i oughta be ashamed of myself fr fr 😔😔🤚🏻🤚🏻 ₊˚⊹♡

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆; eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy.

Labels. These were all just labels Bruce never particularly cared for nor paid attention to, monickers used to try and simplify who he really was so he could be easier understood. Labels used to better classify him because rich men like him supposedly didn’t have depth or purpose beyond what the media claimed him to have.

They were just labels, words that barely scratched the surface of who he really was.

Bruce had been called many things in his life, too many awful and offensive things he had quickly learned not to pay attention to. Caring gave them meaning, he was told so early on, caring gave them significance. Now, he really couldn’t care less.

Throughout the course of his life, throughout all the tragedy and grief, Bruce had learned to ignore it all; the names, the judgments, the looks, the labels. His indifference had become second nature, an innate response to anybody trying to provoke him.

He didn’t really have a choice anyway. There were too many people praying on his downfall since his birth, too many people biting at the fruits of his labor to see if they were ripe enough for the taking. Selfish, greedy, money hungry men desperate for his demise.

Sharks lurking in untamed depths ready to snatch him up if he swam too far, hiding in the black shores with their sharp teeth bared and beady eyes hungry.

Despite what many people believed, Bruce didn’t have it so easy in the sense of work and spirit. When you were rich like he was, famous like he was, as powerful as he was, everyone believed you couldn’t possibly be burdened by anything.

That he was too spoiled by the grandness of life that it had gradually bled into a lack of work ethic, that it was his last name that gave him any status at all, that it was his reputation that gave him everything he had without him having to ask for it.

He had the money to fix any problem, the influence to hide any scandal, the face to get him out of any situation he needed to get out of.

He was CEO of Wayne Enterprises for gods sake, son to Thomas Wayne, a man that was great and beloved all in his own right. Yes, people had doubted Bruce’s ability to lead, to run a business after so long of being away from it, but then he came back and proved them all wrong as he usually did.

Being someone so honorably renowned in Gotham City, someone that carried the Wayne name at that, it came with its own barrel of familial obligation and responsibility outside of his own personal commitments. He couldn’t disappoint anyone, could never fathom disappointing his late father.

Working by day a normal man with a bullet on his back, a price on his head to any hungry buisness man willing to do whatever it took to get to the top. Then working by night as Batman with the bruises and scars to show for it. Someone every criminal and lowlife in Gotham City wanted dead.

Batman, not so much a label as he was a separate being entirely. It was Bruce, but he couldn’t find any similarities between the polite buisness man wearing a suit by day and the other man wearing a blood stained mask by night. One was forced to coerce with society in the manner of business and passive aggressive smiles, another undertaking the grueling task of removing the grime from it.

Bruce Wayne was all expensive cologne and hand shake deals, money hungry tabloids and self absorbed white collars. It was a life always on display, always the center of attention, always everyone else’s focus.

Batman was purely mystery and intrigue. Hidden from sight yet found in every shadow, heard in the trembled whisper of every breath. No one knew who he was yet he had somehow gotten all of their attention. Everyone eager to know who was behind the mask but no one ready to answer for why he existed in the first place.

The only similarities they shared were the cause for conspiracy. Whether it was Bruce or Batman they stole every headline — always someone trying to figure them out, bring their true identity to light and spread more moral quandary about whether they were right or wrong for every choice they made.

Pure opposite lives he juggled in the same two hands.

No, he did not have it easy. Always more enemies than friends and more snakes than family. Every hour, every minute, every second he spent left exposed there was always someone right behind him ready to push him if he faltered.

He had to be careful; always be passive and nice, diplomatic and respectful to those he knew wanted him gone, to the people who wanted his seat at the head of the table and the money in his bank. Bruce had to be the CEO his father wanted him to be, the one he was destined to be, the one etched into his history before he was even born.

He had a reputation to uphold, a legacy to live, a job to do.

But no, it was not always easy.

Being rich and handsome like he was did have its downsides, as meager as they may seem to less fortunate individuals. Many people hated Bruce Wayne just for those simple, superficial things alone. His looks, his status, his job he was so rightfully given. Apparently this made him an asshole, arrogant, narcissist.

It was looks of hatred and envy from men he’d never even met, women he’d abandoned after a steamy two hour hookup (not that he did those anymore but women loved to hold a grudge), businessmen who cursed him to hell and back for his amount of wealth and fame he had no control over.

He didn’t care about these people anyway. These rambunctious, single minded people who preyed on the weak and ate the hopeless. They were all self centered, arrogant, narcissistic. Self absorbed scum unwilling to put in the hard work necessary to be as successful as he was.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Bruce was often regarded as someone lonely, someone lost, someone desolate and pitiful. He was a coward, hiding in his soulless black mansion under thick piles of money ever since the fatal death of his parents. So sad, an orphan, just depressing.

That was hushed whispers behind his back and somber stares, awkward, harrowing smiles from coworkers and the front pages of newspapers. Bruce Wayne back from hiding after all this time… living on his father’s name… will he fail or carry on the legacy of the great Wayne fortune… yada yada yada.

Just more words. Pointless and purposeless, written to appease the swill of Gotham with no real substance behind them. Gossip, false news, attention grabbing headlines that were purely speculation.

However, as much as he hated labels — more so his — whatever names he got called behind his back, Bruce couldn’t find it in sensible reason to argue that they weren’t pieces of who he really was. Fabrics of his character torn out thread by thread and poked and needled at by societies curious hands.

They were just pieces, stretched and torn so far from the truth but yet the original strings were still there, hanging on in remembrance of what he truly was chaotically intertwined in the lies and deception of what people thought him to be. Too shredded to be properly understood but still thriving in the undercurrents of whatever he was now being labeled as and people were now foolishly believing him to be.

Yes, they were just labels. But labels that were not so far from factual truths.

However again, none of those words mattered to him as much as this did, as much as the one label that he truly cared about.

Husband.

Your husband.

The only title he held in the same esteem as Batman and Wayne Enterprises CEO, perhaps even higher. It was one of the only labels that carried a semblance of true meaning, one he didn’t shy from.

Husband. It was the only honorific that mattered to him, one of the only sentiments that made him feel actual pride in who he was. Husband was something real, concrete, not some anonymous opinion in a paper or a cruel murmur in a hallway.

It was the label that pierced him through and through especially in moments like this, moments when your hips were rolling deeply on top of his and he was buried balls deep inside your warmth.

He couldn’t think about anything in this moment. Nothing and everything at the same time as your finger nails, freshly manicured and glittering, gripped into his shoulder blades as you rolled your hips once again.

Bruce winced pleasantly, jaw clenching as his head leaned back into the softness of his black silken pillows. Brown hair frazzled and stringy, his smooth skin alight with a soft, lovesick glow.

You rolled your hips once more in a soft soothing motion, nothing too rough and nothing too fast; the evening had called for something more sensual in the delicacy of Bruce’s touch and the softness of his words just an hour prior.

“Oh Bruce…” You sighed dreamily, hands pressing into his bulky arms as he sighed out a trembled breath from his nose.

Your thighs tightened around his waist, his heavy hands squeezing your hips but not as to pressure you, only to keep you connected to him at the hilt so he was never too far out of you.

“That’s good, sweetheart, get it just like that… mmhmm.” Bruce swallowed heavily, voice low and raw as his eyebrows furrowed over darkened hazel eyes. Fingers thrumming on your skin as you pulsed around him, wetness seeping out of your full entrance and gliding down his length until it could leave a memorable darkened patch on the sheets.

You whined quietly, voice high pitched and greedy as the length of him filled you up and pressed into every soft wall surrounding him. He was always thick, always perfect, always felt so fucking good it made your muscles tense and spasm.

You rolled your body in that delectable way he liked once more, barely moving yet every part of him felt the sparks of pleasure thrum through his skin and make his thighs lock up.

Bruce groaned hotly at the action, eyes flickering down to the wet mess of where your pussy was sucking him in. It was messy, glistening, shared arousal in white strings of mutual attraction. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass from where it sat perched on his strong thighs.

“Mm, fuck, honey.” Bruce breathed out gruffly more to himself than you when the sight of your wetness smeared all over him made his heart spike.

You didn’t respond, chin down to your chest and eyes closed as you focused on the pleasure in your own lower regions, the fullness and heaviness that filled you up and refused to part.

“Ohhh, feels so good-“ You gasped as a heavy spurt of pure pleasure sparked up your tummy, hole clenching around him tightly as an obscene gush of wetness leaked down his cock and onto his thighs.

Bruce licked his dry lips, eyes staring up at you heatedly; at the tightness of your shut eyes, the sweet moans gasping out of parted lips — lips, lips that were glossy and plush from all the needy kisses you shared with him just a mere moments ago.

He was enraptured by you, by your naked physique all soft and sweaty on top of him but he didn’t care. You were just so beautiful, pussy so perfect wrapped around him, squeezing his cock so good it made his mind fog up with indescribable pleasure.

“Yes, sweetheart, god, yesss…” Bruce agreed huskily, his head resting back on his pillow once more as you bucked your hips. His thighs tensed, toes curled, a grunt sounding in his throat as his hips rose to further dig himself inside you.

He couldn’t help it; like a soul to a light he sought you out, your warmth and tightness so snug and comforting around him he didn’t ever want to be apart from you.

You whimpered at the intrusion, nails digging into his skin in a painful sting that Bruce was too fucked out to really notice.

He swallowed hazily below you, eyes closing then opening to look down at the way your pussy molded into one with his hard cock as you rocked gently against him. Deep inside you where he was meant to be, stomach and pelvis and thick thighs soaked with your gushing arousal.

Fire shooting down his legs and tummy with every soft bounce back down on him, illicit wet noises sounding in the room with every desperate grind.

He loved that sound, your wetness mashing with his thick base. But not nearly as much as your melodic sounds gasping out every so often because his cock made you feel that good.

His mouth was terribly dry from his own grunts and moans, handsome face and muscular chest flushed pink, the air so so hot he could feel his own dark hair sticking to the dew on his fevered head.

His hands, big and clammy, dug into the soft fat of your hips to help you dig into him in that way you both liked, the one that had you both gasping hotly into each others mouths as you leaned down to give him another sloppy kiss.

You couldn’t quite get it right though, too distracted by the feel of him so deep inside you that your lips stuttered on his. Moving messily against him as you whined into his mouth once more, the tip of his cock so high up inside you it almost hurt.

He was always so big, so round and tall that the stretch alone always seemed to ache pleasurably with every short thrust he made inside you.

“That’s good, sweetheart… that’s it… just how you know I like it…”

Bruce breathed heavily against your lips from where you were leaned on top of him, naked breasts mashed to his chiseled chest and hands gripping onto the headboard now.

You needed something sturdy, something unbreakable to tether you back to him when you felt the pleasure making you float too far.

His breath was hot against your sore lips, mingled with your low moans and spoken just above the subtle creaks of the bed; sounding every time you moved above him in a sensually quickened pace that had your toes curling and thighs tensing.

“So beautiful, sweetheart, so good…”

Bruce couldn’t help but compliment you even in the most nasty of times, voice clenched yet breathy, spoken through hot breaths and pressed teeth as your wetness dripped down his length once more.

You moaned sweetly at his doting words, his voice cracked and low in that gravelly salacious tone you loved so much.

You clenched around him in response, his fingers tightening on you as he let out a handsome groan from the feeling. You watched as his head sunk into the pillow beneath him, eyes clenched shut and a heavy grunt leaving his chest.

The sight was attractive, seeing him so wrecked from just a few simple back and forth motions you were carefully orchestrating.

You felt a wave of stinging pleasure spike up your thighs and down your legs, up your tummy and into your head until your whole body was tingling. Your eyes brimming with unshed tears as sweat prickled at your skin and your legs burned from sitting for so long.

You didn’t care about the pain, too drunk on the sensations of his thickness rubbing inside the most intimate part of you, your hips rolling in desperate circular motions so he was never completely apart from you. You liked keeping him inside as much as possible, to feel that fullness and that dull burn to remind you of just how big he was.

Bruce loved it too, resting inside your warmth, comfortable, letting you take him however you wanted in whatever way you needed. He was always a giver, always a good husband when you needed him to be.

“F-fuck, Bruce, you feel so good.” You gasped wantonly, voice quiet yet fragmented, needy and breathless as your nails dug into his skin.

“Yeah, honey? It feels good?” Bruce replied just as quietly, being sure to thrust up into you just a little bit harder so you’d gasp some more for him.

It was lewd, lovely, his dirty words spoken onto your quivering lips and his meaty hands gripping your thighs to help aid in your eager movements.

It felt so good, so right, being there with him in the darkness of his room with only the sound of your shared panting and moans filling the silence.

It was hot and perfect; his hands on your thighs gripping hard enough to show you he doesn’t want you to stop, your mouths ever so often pecking together in a sweet kiss you couldn’t continue, fond gazes in darkened irises.

“Feels so good, Bruce, I can’t—“ You whimpered out all cutely, sliding up from his chest until you were sitting straight up once more. You could feel him shift inside of you, hardness still prominent and throbbing. He pressed against your walls, invading every nerve point as your clit rubbed against his naval in the new position.

Bruce gripped the flesh of your ass between his hands, helping your soft rocking motions against him as he spoke, “Yes you can, pretty girl, you always do for me. You’re doing so good, sweetheart, you have no idea…”

The praise made you smile brokenly. Your skin so hot it felt burning yet every grind against your husbands hard cock made your legs go numb. You whined and bucked above him as a tightness started to stretch in your tummy.

“Always for you, baby…” You managed to mumble shakily, lovingly, hands sliding over the abs on his stomach as you sat back on his lap so not a single inch of him wasn’t inside you.

Bruce clenched his jaw at that, hands digging into your hips as he thrust his own up to meet your soft grinds. Sparks, electricity, all of the cliche metaphors for how good he was feeling shooting down his cock and into his legs as his knees tensed up.

He felt lightheaded yet completely grounded, here to his mattress. Floating in the skies yet simultaneously stuck on earth with you, his gorgeous wife who always made him feel sane and normal.

Your hair was tangled around your shoulders and falling over your flushed cheeks as you stared down at him with a fond glimmer in your eyes, bright and burning under the lust so boldly wanting.

The stretch of him inside you was so good, his gravelly moans so good, the way he was making you feel so so good.

You exhaled as you settled your weight down on his pelvis, pussy sore yet eager as you squeezed around him once more. Love struck eyes looking down at him passionately as the moon cascaded a light gray glow behind you.

Bruce felt the air escape his lungs, lips parted as he stared up at you in utter devotion; you were so beautiful, so sweet, felt so fucking good around him he couldn’t even think straight. Brain numb and thoughtless, only you and your perfect pussy, you, you, you.

You took a moment to stare back at him. Unspoken love was whispered in the shadows of your eyes bright and glittering as your movements picked up into polite, subtle bounces that had Bruce digging his hands into you, breathy sounds escaping his lips.

“Ah, Bruce…” You mumbled weakly, voice soft and needy as you tossed your head back and moved your hips up and down so his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you he usually loved to tease.

“Such a good job, sweetheart, so beautiful like this…” Bruce spoke huskily, staring at your heaving breasts as they jiggled and beckoned him forth, beautiful and pure as you rode him to high heaven in your most organic form.

You hummed into a delicate moan, a smile quirked on your lips at his praise as you felt his hands slowly start crawling up the exposed expanse of your waist.

Warm and big and tender as they moved up, up, gentle fingers tracing over your ribcage as your flesh prickled at the touch. He was delicate, always intent on your pleasure over his as he admired your form above him, the feel of your skin under his textured hands that had hurt so many.

You trusted him, your husband, enough to see you like this. Trusted him enough to have you like this, to allow his bloodstained hands to wash over you like he himself was something pure and untainted, bestowing him your presence like a merciful deity to their promised worshipper.

You bit your lip as his palms enveloped the fat of your breasts into them, molded perfectly into his larger hands as he squeezed and admired them in a fashion so familiar for him; he always loved your breasts, enamored with the softness and weight of them in his greedy hands.

You stared down at him with a heated tenderness, the look of a wife irrevocably in love with their husband as he stared up at you with the same fervor.

When he was here, with you, there were no labels, no obligations and no judgments. With you he was just yours, another body made of flesh and blood and bone melded to yours in the conjunction of where his body ended and yours began.

He was no one but he was your everything, hands on skin and lips on collarbones, sweat amongst sweat and heady moans breathed in the gasps of kisses shared between two lovesick spouses.

In this space, in this moment, with you on top of him and his hands all over you any remnants of shame and Wayne inspired obligation was vacant. All he needed to do was sit and let you take him, sit there and be of use when you wanted to use him.

He was a good husband, the best husband to you, his perfect and lovely wife who never addressed him as anything more than yours. He wasn’t this, he wasn’t that, he was just everything and more in the confines of silken sheets under the safety of his mansion.

No cameras, no gossip, no press and no watchful eyes. Serene, tranquil, just you and him and the great love you shared that transcended any label or common sense humanity could fathom.

Yes, he was Bruce Wayne. Eccentric billionaire, former eligible bachelor, orphan boy, son, rich playboy. But those things did not define him, did not set his reality in stone so easily as your love did. He was all those things but he was so much more.

You never judged him, looked at him as anything more than the most important thing. You regarded him with love no matter his past, his present, and hopefully and most likely your shared future.

You didn’t care for labels or surface value lies like everyone else did. You ripped him at his seams, tore him apart to see what was inside and he was ever so grateful for it, for that loving animosity that bared his soul to yours. You were straightforward, heart to heart or nothing at all because then what was the point?

There was no purpose without pain, without pleasure, without love. You suffered, you loved, and you were most definitely bringing him pleasure. All blunt and raw emotions too passionate and loud to ever try and hide or make lies about. No secrets, no deception, no labels.

This night, every night just like this one — nights spent in your arms deep inside where he needed to be most, were nights where his mind was bare and he was just yours. Nights when he didn’t have to put up a face or make up a lie or tell a tall tale.

He was Bruce, he was yours, he was just this. And most importantly, he was just your husband. The only label that really mattered and the only one he ever really cared about. ₊˚⊹♡

tagging , @little-miss-chaoss , @ghostslillady , @boobaeri , @prayingal

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starletdawn · 8 months

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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!!

#patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman #american psycho #fluff #christian bale #slashers #oneshot #patrick bateman x you #patrickbatemanxgen

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luvriablack · 1 year

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Restaurant night

Pov: Patrick takes u to a restaurant to meet his friends but it seems that a jacuzzi there is more important than them. Will Patrick join u as well?

Warning ⚠️ : None .just enjoy 😆

It's ’s been now 2 months since I and Patrick became a couple and I now live in Patrick's apartment. He is a bit strict, jealous yet sweet. We are currently in a fancy restaurant with him and his friends. His friends are just so annoying, talking about chicks they met and everything. " How many chicks u saw in Paris?" One of his friends and Patrick and I look at him to see his answer

"Only one" Patrick replies and he looks at his friends with a smug look on his face. His friends are shocked by his honesty.

"Did you find her cute?" Another friend asks and Patrick just shrugs his shoulders. "She was okay I guess." He replies with the perfect mixture of arrogance and coldness in his tone.

"No way, you didn't have success in Paris? But you're so hot dude" One of his friends asks with a big smile on his face "All the girls would drop their panties for you bro."

I glare at Patrick and roll my eyes. I was wearing a beautiful black dress that he bought it for me

Patrick looks at you, he smiles. But then he starts thinking to himself. *Do I not want people to be jealous that I have the most beautiful girl in town? Do I not want them to respect me?*

He looks at you again. "Stop glaring at me." He says in a calm but firm tone.

He looks at his friends and gives them a smug smile. "Oh she hates when I look at other girls, she's mine, you couldn't have her even if you wanted."

I sigh and eat a potato from my plate

Patrick continues to look at you with a smug face. His friends look at you too and one of them raises his cup to toast.

"To Patrick's girlfriend!" His friend says and they toast and then another friend of his says "I wish I had a girlfriend like her, but I have to settle for a girl with big tits, at least I got to touch them."

They laugh and Patrick smiles, in some way, he's enjoying this.

" oh u are just jealous of Patrick because I have what u want but only he gets to touch " I reply and eat my food

"Oh shut up love." Patrick replies.

One of his friends chuckles and he says "Well, it's not just your looks but your personality...you're just so...sweet, we want more details on you."

Everyone smiles at you and Patrick smiles with them. In a way he likes it when his friends talk about you, he feels like you're the trophy he conquered, the perfect woman he owns.

I sigh " the food is the only delicious thing here" I say

Your comment is not appreciated by Patrick. "Stop being so rude to my friends." He hisses in your ear.

That's one thing you're learning about Patrick, if he wants to, he can switch very quickly from that sweet and lovey-dovey guy to that cold-minded and controlling one.

He smiles at you again and he kisses your neck. He tries to smooth things out but you can see the anger in his eyes.

I whisper " I want to go home "

"Stop that, be sweet like you're used to." Patrick replies and he tightens his grip around your waist.

As he does that, he caresses your waist and gently bites your neck. He takes your chin and makes you look at him, "I bought you this beautiful dress, I treated you all the time, I am doing so much for you, and in return, you give me back this behavior? Stop embarrassing me in front of my friends." He whispers in your ear.

I glare at him" then I want another meal. I want to eat a salad " I say

He smiles at you and he kisses you on the forehead. "Of course princess." He replies and he calls over the waiter.

After a while, the dishes arrive: a salad, a steak and a glass of wine.

Patrick makes sure you have everything. One of the reasons he likes to take you to these places is that he wants to show his friends that he can pay for his girl's dinner and that he can treat her nicely.

I kiss Patrick's cheek" thanks " I say and eat my salad

It's not like Patrick is eating a lot of food, he's mainly sipping on his glass of wine, but he's watching you, he loves how you chew your salad and the way you eat.

The others continue talking but Patrick can't take his eyes off of you. In the past, he didn't see women this way, he looked at them and he thought that those little b\*tches could suck his c\*ck. But now, it's different. With you it's different.

" babe...what are thinking?" I ask him when I see him zoned out

"What? Sorry, I was in my thoughts" Patrick replies and he smiles at you, maybe a little bit too sweetly.

"You know I get to zone out like this a lot? Whenever I'm thinking of you, I get like this. " He says and he kisses you on the forehead.

"And don't ever call me babe in front of my friends. You can call me Patrick, but only you and I get to call each other that." He whispers to you, he looks at your neck for half a second, like he's going to bite you.

" I am sorry Patrick " I whisper " want to taste this salad? It's amazing " I say

"Yes, I want to try your salad." Patrick replies in a sweet and flirtatious manner.

He takes a bite and he looks at you. "Wow love, you're right this salad is delicious." He says with a smile.

"Is it more delicious than me?" He asks and his friends chuckle.

I get red" stop Patrick " I say and eat my salad

Patrick laughs with his friends and he takes your chin in his hands.

"Aww love, don't be so uptight, I only made a joke." He caresses your hair and he kisses your cheek.

"Look how beautiful you are when you blush." He whispers in your ear.

You're surprised but you know that he's being honest in that moment.

I look away " patty..stop" I say with a smile as I look at my salad

Patrick continues to caress your hair and he leans on you. "Why should I stop? I want to touch your hair, I love seeing that little blush on your sexy face. It makes you look even cuter." He replies with a smile.

"It's hard for me not to be sweet with you, especially when you look at me like that." He says while looking at your lips.

I smile and in the restaurant I see a small jacuzzi . I smile" Um..I wanna have a bath" I say and get up from my chair and head through the public jacuzzi. I take off all my clothes and I get in happy. I smile at Patrick

Patrick is speechless when he sees you get up and head towards the Jacuzzi. He smiles when you do, because he knows that you are his.

He also starts getting out of the table to head towards you. "Baby-" He says but then he stops talking when he sees one of his friends looking at you (and your body!) with so much lust in his eyes.

He goes silent when he realizes that if that other guy knew that you're together, he would probably be so jealous.

I was still on the jacuzzi " I wanna stay here for a while " I tell him and put my head in the water giggling

He smiles but then he hears his friends talking amongst themselves. "God, is that Patrick's girl? She's so hot, I would love to do things to her." "Oh yeah dude, I definitely agree with you on that one." "But she's his girl, she's not available..." says another one of his friends.

After he hears this, Patrick tries to not seem so irritated, instead he smiles at you and says "enjoy your soak love."

A waiter approaches Patrick " Sir your little friend there is in the jacuzzi and she doesn't have a swimsuit " he says and then he adds" And the jacuzzi is for decoration " he tells Patrick.

Patrick takes out some money from his bag and he gives it to the waiter, he smiles and says "this is for you, but also...the restaurant belongs to me now. I'm changing the rules about the jacuzzi. You're done here, go find a different job."

Patrick looks at the waiter with so much arrogance that he has no choice but to leave.

Patrick then returns his attention to you, and he smiles. "Don't worry baby, just enjoy your bath." He says with a smug face.

I smile at Patrick " join me !" I yell for him and giggled

Patrick grins and he goes over to the Jacuzzi. He climbs into it and then he looks straight at you. "Are you sure honey? I don't think this place is made for two people." He says as the water goes up his body.

He starts to touch your back gently. "Or did you just want me here to...do something else?" He says with a grin...

To be continued( only if it gets likes🤭)

#patrick bateman #american psycho #christian bale #patrick bateman x reader #batman #patrick bateman x female reader #oneshot #no warning #batman spoilers #patrick bateman x you #foryou #christian bale x reader

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gigglinggoddess · 2 years

Text

“When can I see you again?”

HeathLedger! Joker x f!reader

Just a short story, I want to start writing. If this gains some traction then awesome, if not then I'll probably still write tbh.

“Well let me think.” Bruce tapped his chin as he looked at his sister, “How about no?” He grinned, snapping his fingers then pointed at her. The woman rolled her eyes, groaning. “Why the hell not?!” She protested, currently, the woman was trying to convince Bruce to let her tag along to the gala that will be held in Dent’s honor.

“Because I don't need you there.” Bruce shrugged as he leaned on his office desk, “Look, Y/N... This is for Dent. I'm afraid you're gonna... Well...” He looked at her with a hinting expression, yet she still didn't understand. Y/N crossed her arms, squinting her eyes. “Go on.” She waved her hand, “Explain, Wayne. Why I can't go.” “Well, Y/N, my dear sister. You did date, Harvey in Highschool.” Bruce explained, Y/N groaned and laughed, “Oh my god! Like four years ago!” She raised her hand in the air and quickly dropped then. “For like a month!” She exclaimed, Bruce, tilted his head. “Actually three months, but whatever. The point is it'll be awkward.” Bruce smoothly explained, and Y/N rolled her eyes. “You won’t let me go because Rahcel is going.” Y/N could sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. “Whatever.” Y/N quickly added before Bruce could speak, “Didn’t even want to go!” She defended as she walked out of the office. Bruce sighed, she definitely wanted to go.

Hours passed and most guests filled the Gala hall, it had gone without a hit. Well, towards the start at least. Y/N wasn't going to take ‘no’ for an answer, hell she wouldn't have even taken a maybe. Y/N gracefully stepped out of the car, her dress was tailored to her liking. Her hair was done just in the right way that framed her face beautifully, and her jewels were ready to bring out her eyes! She looked straight from a model agency. Y/N smiled, walking and flaring her hips side to side, there was something about going to a party you weren't meant to that gave a girl some confidence. She stepped into the elevator, and an old man and his wife were in there. She stepped behind them to not disturb any conversation, and the doors shut slowly. A purple-gloved hand was shoved in between the doors, “Woah... Uh, hold the Uhm, elevator!” He laughed manically before Y/N could get a good look at the man, a gun was pointed at the group. The elderly woman let out a shriek and safe to say, Y/N wanted to. She hadn't seen a gun this closely before. The clown got in casually as ever, seeing the button he wanted already pressed, he leaned his side against the wall. The shotgun he held was being used as a pole on the ground, and Y/N kept silent. She knew exactly who this was, the clown prince of Gotham. Y/N did her best to zone out of the situation, knowing the scene that would unfold. “Y/N Wayne?” Her name made her look at the clown, “Well, didn't know I would uh.” He licked the corner of his mouth, “Be in the midst of a celebrity of such beauty.” He smirked and spun around facing his body toward her. Joker grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly, and placing a gentle kiss on her hand. Although his movements were jerky and fast, it seemed in this second he calmed down. Yet, he became jittery once again.

The elevator's door opened, and Joker turned to her once more. “So, Wayne. When can uh?.. See you again?” He asked with a grin, Y/N was shocked. Is this time right now? His smile was toxic, making her smile. “Uh uhm... Huh?” She shook her head. Joker pushed the elderly couple out, he stuck his hand back in the elevator, pressing the first-floor button. “I'll just uhm...find you, gorgeous.” He winked at her as the door shut, she heard a shot ring out as the elevator slowly went back down.

I'm so sorry if I misspelled anything, or if my grammar is bad. I use Grammarly but it's buggin'. I'm slowly improving on my writing so I'm sorry if this sucks!!

A short and sweet story of Joker. He's baby girl fr

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Those Eyes | Bruce Wayne x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: hope ur ready king

im doing this jotnote form to make it easier for u LMAO

- bruce wayne x m!reader

- takes place at a masquerade ball

- bruce can only see reader's eyes, but falls for him really hard after a night of dancing together

- cinderella-esque hijinks

- the english lyrics of this song and this song may help w inspiration - i would literally die for u

summary: a chance encounter between two strangers, a mask left outside, a desperate attempt to find those beautiful eyes he’s seen before.

tws: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoknig

word count: 1114

You would kick his fucking ass when you got home, you don’t know why you ever let Bane talk you into this fucking bullshit, but you were hating every second of it so far; the rich cunts that littered the room, filling it with the stench of their nonsense, the suit you were wearing felt fucking stifling, the mask on your face was at least somewhat comfortable but that was only because Bane had made it for you so it fit properly and wouldn’t give you away throughout the night. You fucking hated him for talking you into this shit, and as you escaped out to the luscious gardens, you pulled out your phone; you called him, and it only rang twice before he picked up.

“You’re a fucking cunt, mate,” you hissed. “You’re a fucking vile cunt - you realise this is fucking torture, right? This is fucking disgusting, Bane. You’re a cunt for this. Why me? You couldn’t have asked someone else?”

“Believe it or not,” Bane grumbled. “But you are the smartest man I know, and I trust you to get this done. All you have to do is tell me who was there, and what they were doing - it’s not hard, but you’re smart and I trust you, (y/n).”

“Fine, fine,” you grumbled lowly. “But you fucking owe me, you fucking cunt. This is fucking rancid, y’know.”

“You’ll be fine,” he promised, although his voice was becoming more muffled and even filled with static. He was walking somewhere, you could hear the echoes of his heavy footsteps. “But do not call me again, unless it’s an emergency.”

“This is an emergency, you fucking cunt,” you growled. “I love you, you know that, but you are a right fuckinng cunt for this shit.”

“I love you, too,” Bane told you. “Be careful and-”

But your attention was drawn to something else, a tall stranger in an all black suit, wearing a mask similar to a bat’s face as he slowly approached you, a glass of champagne in his hand and the other in his pocket. He waited for you to say your goodbyes and to put the phone down before he dared to clear his throat and offer you his hand. “Sorry, I saw you across the gardens and, uh, I was just wondering if I could have the next dance, if that was possible?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded. “Sure, why not?”

He offered you the hand that was once in his pocket, and although he could not see most of your face, it was your eyes that drew him in; so beautiful as they glittered with the golden coloured lights that littered the gardens that it looked as if champagne stars had been caught within them. The colour of them was not lost on him, though, how they looked as if they were made from the finest of jewels and stones and how he could not look away from them; so beautiful in colour and so dazzling, they made him wish that he could get lost in them as he guided you to the dance floor and allowed you to take the lead.

But a night of dancing was only one thing, as you had to leave when the clock struck eleven, and although you didn’t want to say goodbye to your dashing dance partner, you had to rush away; he tried to chase after you, to try and capture you and to look into your eyes for just one last time before you disappeared into the night, but you were gone. Leaving behind just your mask, discarded on one of the stone tables in the gardens where he had first met you that night.

As luck would have it, your dashing dance partner was none other than Bruce Wayne, and when he picked up the mask, he was careful not to let anything else touch it until he got it back to the labs; he spent days agonising over whether or not he should have tested it for DNA to find you again, just to look into your eyes once more, but eventually he did it, and he was quick to head to your place of work. He didn’t expect to see anyone, but he knew it was you when he saw those eyes, and he smiled as he casually approached you.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, licking his lips as he gestured to the section of empty bench beside you. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, letting him sit down as you took a drag from your cigarette and raised a brow at him. “Say… aren’t you Bruce Wayne - that rich cunt who owns Wayne Enterprises or whatever?”

Bruce nodded, doing his best not to smile as he felt a certain giddiness in his chest; his hazel eyes, in the light of the afternoon sun, looked so similar to a brown field scattered with fireflies. “Yeah, I am… I was just passing by and uhm, I couldn’t help but to notice how handsome you are.”

He wasn’t lying, even if he had a hard time looking away from your eyes, he couldn’t help but to steal a few gazes at your face and your body, biting at the inside of his lip; your looks rivalled any mythological hero, you were far more handsome than the chiselled and falsely muscular men in television and film. You were so fucking handsome, and he thought his breath would leave him.

You raised your brow at him. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Mister Wayne?”

“Admittedly, yes,” he dared to laugh softly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Well, I might’ve, if you weren’t really cute,” you couldn’t help but to smile at him, but something about those eyes seemed so fucking familiar. Like they had captured your breath and your attention before, but you couldn’t quite place where. You checked the time on your phone, and upon seeing your break would be over soon, you passed it to him. “Put your number in, I’ll call you later.”

“I don’t know your name,” Bruce pointed out. “How will I know it’s you calling?”

“It’s (y/n),” you told him, and as Bruce put his number into your contacts, you couldn’t help but to notice the way that his fingers shook a little. “Be quick, though, I gotta go back inside.”

“Can I meet you after work?” Bruce asked as he handed you your phone back.

“I guess,” you sighed, still not quite sure where you had seen those eyes before. They were beautiful, a soft hazel, but you had definitely seen them somewhere before. “I finish at eight o’clock.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

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christianbalesblueaddidas · 5 days

Text

christian bale masterlist

| / — drabble | // — oneshot | /// — series |

| 🍓 — fluff | 🥀 — angst | 🍒 — smut |

characters in alphabetical order

augustus landor (the pale blue eye)

coming soon

bruce wayne / batman (the dark knight trilogy)

I'm Sorry, Sweetheart // 🥀🍒

dan evans (3:10 to yuma)

coming soon

john miller (the flowers of war)

Let's Go Home I /// 🥀

theodore "laurie" laurence (little women)

coming soon

mandras (captain corelli's mandolin)

coming soon

patrick bateman (american psycho)

coming soon

#christian bale #christian bale masterlist #bale!bruce wayne x reader #augustus landor #dan evans #patrick bateman x reader #captain corelli's mandolin #laurie laurence x reader #jim davis #john miller x reader

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random-imagines-blog · 2 years

Text

Celebrity Masterlist (A-K)

In an attempt to organize the blog and keep everything in order, masterlists are being made to join together into a masterlist of masterlists to make it easier for those on mobile. Thanks for being patient!

smut is indicated with a ⭐

Adrien Brody

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being married to Adrien Brody, and both of you being petty after an argument.

Imagine getting your boyfriend, Adrien Brody, into board games.

Alton Brown

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Alton Brown giving you tastes of his desserts.

Andrew Garfield

Oneshots

Where is the Line?

Sideways

Adore ⭐

Imagines

Imaging falling for Andrew Garfield after filming together.

Imagine surprising Andrew Garfield with a new tattoo.

Imagine a late afternoon tea with Andrew Garfield.

Imagine getting caught with Andrew Garfield in the rain, and him surrendering his umbrella to you.

Imagine making out with Andrew Garfield and your parents come home.

Imagine bringing Andrew Garfield to your house for the first time.

Imagine Andrew Garfield listening to you talk but thinking instead of the things he wants to do to you.

Andrew Scott

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Andrew Scott catching you baby-talking with the family pet.

Imagine Andrew Scott making sure you get home okay.

Imagine being a morning person while your husband, Andrew Scott, is not.

Imagine Andrew Scott describing you in an interview.

Imagine making a bet with Andrew that he would win an award.

Andy Serkis

Oneshots

Fiction

Imagines

Ben Barnes

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine surprising Ben Barnes with breakfast, but him being upset that you left bed.

Imagine Ben Barnes working on a love letter for you.

Imagine playing a character in a movie starring Ben Barnes, and his expression when he sees you in your costume for the first time.

Imagine Ben Barnes seeing you dance with another man.

Imagine your family telling you and Ben Barnes they don’t want you to be together.

Benedict Cumberbatch

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine spending a cloudy day on the beach with Benedict Cumberbatch.

Imagine having a romantic candlelight dinner with Benedict Cumberbatch.

Imagine yourself and Benedict taking your child to their first day of school.

Bill Skarsgard

Oneshots

Losing Touch

Imagines

Bruce Langley

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine teasing Bruce Langley about his fluffy hair.

Cara Delevingne

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine taking a trip with Cara Delevinge.

Imagine coming home on yours and Cara Delevingne‘s anniversary.

Channing Tatum

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine house hunting with Channing Tatum.

Imagine being in class with Channing Tatum and him trying to make you laugh.

Charlie Hunnam

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine your boyfriend Charlie Hunnam being proud of you when you win a Grammy.

Chase Crawford

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine thinking you’re alone in a room and singing to yourself, and turning around to see Chase Crawford watching you.

Imagine Chase is feeling down, so you rake up the most perfect pile of leaves to jump in.

Chris Evans

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine buying Chris Evans an array of hats for Christmas since you understand his anxiety.

Imagine taking your child to visit their daddy, Chris Evans, on set.

Imagine being on your first date with Chris Evans.

Chris Hemsworth

Oneshots

Classic Scrapes

Imagines

Imagine winning a contest to meet Chris Hemsworth.

Imagine coming out to Chris Hemsworth.

Imagine Chris Hemsworth giving you a footrub.

Chris Pine

Oneshots

Pregnancy is Agony

Imagines

Imagine your daughter wanting you and Chris Pine to be together.

Imagine Chris Pine surprising you by showing up at your charity event with a very large donation.

Imagine Chris Pine picking you up for your first date.

Chris Pratt

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine a cottage retreat with Chris Pratt.

Imagine shopping for your new house with Chris Pratt.

Christian Bale

Oneshots

Perfect

Video Kid

Imagines

Imagine being nervous to attend Christian Bale’s movie premiere.

Imagine Christian Bale taking you to a special place.

Imagine Christian Bale falling in love with you.

Imagine practicing your acting on Christian Bale.

Imagine Christian Bale catching you, his assistant, tipsy at a bar.

Imagine Christian Bale trying to make things good again after an argument.

Imagine telling Christian Bale that you’re pregnant with his baby.

Imagine doing tiktok pranks on your husband, Christian Bale.

Imagine coming home to find your daughter braiding your husband’s hair.

Imagine surprising Christian Bale on set with your daughter.

Cillian Murphy

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Cillian Murphy admitting his love to you for the first time.

Imagine meeting Cillian Murphy at a bar, and him buying you a drink.

Cole Sprouse

Oneshots

Empty Handed

Imagines

Daniel Radcliffe

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Daniel Radcliffe coming to your play debut.

Imagine Daniel Radcliffe dressing up to take you on a romantic walk.

Imagine Daniel Radcliffe trying out pick-up lines on you.

Imagine Daniel Radcliffe saying Hello to you right before commercial on a talk show.

Dave Franco

Oneshots

Evening Wear

Imagines

Imagine being Dave Franco’s childhood best friend.

Imagine Dave Franco getting angry because you’re wearing too much clothing.

Imagine surprise tickling Dave Franco.

Imagine being the youngest Franco and having Dave and James finding out that you have a tattoo.

Imagine Dave Franco distracting you while you’re attempting an audition tape.

Imagine going over to Dave’s house for some Netflix and Chill.

David Tennant

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine David Tennant finding out that you’re pregnant.

Imagine having a movie night with David Tennant.

Imagine waking up in the hospital to find David Tennant worried about you.

Dev Patel

Oneshots

Give and Take

He Will Love You

Reunions

Imagines

Imagine Dev Patel surprising you at work.

Imagine getting into a huge fight with Dev Patel.

Imagine Dev Patel being struck with awe when he sees you for the first time.

Imagine Dev Patel taking you out for an early breakfast.

Dita Von Teese

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine surprising Dita with roses after her show.

Imagine meeting Dita Von Teese at a party.

Dwayne The Rock Johnson

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine accidentally blurting out to Dwayne Johnson that you’re attracted to his black wrestling gear look.

Imagine rewarding Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson during his workout routine.

Elijah Wood

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine telling Elijah Wood you’re pregnant.

Imagine trying to take care of Elijah Wood when he’s been overworking.

Imagine catching Elijah Wood taking photos of you.

Imagine adopting a puppy with Elijah Wood.

Imagine arguing with Elijah Wood and him asking for forgiveness afterwards.

Elizabeth Olsen

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine watching Wandavision with Elizabeth Olsen.

Imagine being a DC actor and getting married to Elizabeth Olsen.

Imagine preparing for your second child with Elizabeth, and thinking about the work load.

Elliot Page

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine moving in with Elliot Page

Imagine Elliot Page surprising you at school.

Emma Stone

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine working with Emma Stone, and realizing you have feelings for her.

Evan Peters

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine making Build-A-Bears with Evan Peters.

Freddie Highmore

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Freddie Highmore talking about your son in interviews.

Imagine being a young director, and bringing Freddie Highmore to your premiere.

Imagine filming a scene in Bates Motel with Freddie Highmore.

Imagine going to a meet and greet for Freddie Highmore, and him being enamored with you.

Imagine your ex bugging you while on a walk with Freddie.

Imagine meeting Freddie Highmore at a coffee shop.

Gaspard Ulliel

Oneshots

Dark Light

Imagines

Imagine Gaspard Ulliel saving you from a drink-spiker.

Imagine being pregnant with Gaspard’s baby.

Imagine bringing Gaspard Ulliel to your first awards show, and him being extremely proud of you.

Imagine Gaspard Ulliel wanting to spoil you.

Imagine Gaspard Ulliel attending your book reading.

Imagine Gaspard Ulliel bringing you flowers.

Imagine being seated with Gaspard Ulliel on a train.

Heath Ledger

Oneshots

Saying Goodbye is Never Easy

Tears on the Red Carpet

Imagines

Imagine yours and Heath’s first day at home as a new parent.

Imagine being married to Heath Ledger

Imagine going camping with Heath Ledger, and taking in the beautiful sights of nature, but all he does is smile at you.

Imagine being pregnant with Heath’s baby, and him seeing you eat your strange pregnancy cravings.

Henry Cavill

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Henry Cavill building you something special.

Imagine going on a camping trip with Henry Cavill and forgetting your sleeping bag so you have to share with him.

Imagine being told you would meet your soulmate by a fortune teller, then running into Henry Cavill.

Imagine a rather disheveled Henry Cavill leaving your hotel room in the morning.

Imagine flirting with Henry Cavill while doing an interview with him.

Imagine looking at fanart of your character, Doctor Doom, and Superman, with your best friend Henry.

Iwan Rheon

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Iwan Rheon taking a chance and asking you out on a date.

Imagine Iwan Rheon seeing you getting assaulted.

Imagine Iwan Rheon getting ready to propose.

Imagine Iwan Rheon surprising you with his musical side.

Imagine Iwan Rheon waiting for you with flowers.

Imagine spending a weekend in a summer cottage with Iwan Rheon.

Imagine Iwan Rheon stealing your glasses during an interview.

Imagine Iwan Rheon being constantly teased on set for having an obvious crush on you.

Jaden Smith

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine cozying up with Jaden Smith after a long day.

Imagine Jaden Smith being utterly smitten with you.

Imagine Jaden Smith thinking that you two are alone in the house.

Imagine Jaden Smith giving you a night to remember in a hotel.

Imagine Jaden taking you to one of his favorite spots to eat.

Imagine attending an awards show with your sisters Kylie and Kendall, and Jaden Smith makes an announcement to you.

Jaeden Martell

Oneshots

Play Dead

Imagines

Jake Gyllenhaal

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine phone sex with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Imagine making out with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Imagine trying to have a baby with Jake Gyllenhaal but it continuously failing.

Imagine being a small town girl and Jake Gyllenhaal falling for you.

Imagine spending your birthday with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Imagine Jake seeing you out with someone else and growing jealous.

Imagine being an actress and going on your first date with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Imagine Jake Gyllenhaal spending his time off with you.

Imagine trying for a baby with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Imagine Jake Gyllenhaal realizing how lucky he is to have you.

Imagine Jake Gyllenhaal sneaking into your house to surprise you.

Imagine Jake Gyllenhaal bringing Winter to LA for you.

Imagine Jake Gyllenhaal erupting after a fight with you.

Imagining winning your tenth Oscar, and celebrating with your husband Jake Gyllenhall at the after party.

James Franco

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being the youngest Franco and having Dave and James finding out that you have a tattoo.

Imagine tickling James Franco.

Imagine James Franco letting you stay overnight.

James McAvoy

Oneshots

Killing Loneliness

Every Me and Every You

Noir

All This and Heaven Too

Itsy Bitsy Spider

Imagines

Imagine James McAvoy being your Valentine.

Imagine a cold evening walk with James McAvoy.

Imagine being in an interview with your husband, and being asked when you knew he was the one.

Imagine celebrating Halloween with James McAvoy.

Imagine James McAvoy seeing you self-harm.

James Ransone

Oneshots

Moment

On It

Imagines

Jamie Bell

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Jamie Bell stopping a mugger.

Imagine going to the beach with Jamie Bell and your child.

Jeremy Renner

Oneshots

Bang! Bang!

Imagines

Imagine sticking with Jeremy Renner, even when there’s speculations about him as a person.

Imagine defending Jeremy Renner against slander.

Imagine Jeremy Renner helping you out of the rain.

Imagine walking in on Jeremy Renner practicing his wedding proposal speech.

Jesse Williams

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine flirting with Jesse Williams using puns and pick-up lines.

Imagine Jesse Williams finally shooting his shot with you.

Jimmi Simpson

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Jimmi Simpson running lines with you.

Imagine filming a rough, emotional scene with Jimmi Simpson.

Imagine being in an interview with Jimmi Simpson, and the interviewer teasing you two about the tension.

Joseph Gordon Levitt

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Joseph Gordon Levitt trying to convince you to stay home with him rather than go to work.

Imagine Joseph Gordon-Levitt being possessive over you.

Karl Urban

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Karl Urban showing you around New Zealand.

Imagine Karl Urban surprising you with a picnic.

Kiernan Shipka

Oneshots

In Between Days

Imagines

Imagine a glamorous trip to France with Kiernan Shipka.

#celebrity masterlist

103 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Jealousy Baby

Requested by anon: Hngggg I LOVE YOUR PATRICK BATEMAN FIC. And i was wondering if I could request another one, where the reader murders the hookers Patrick had sex with out of jealously. And he finds out and finds it kinda hot and confesses to the reader that he likes them too.

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, murder, sexual references and mentions

Note: Thank you @darling-i-read-it for helping me with proof-reading and seeing if the fic was accurate! I was kinda worried, stressing over whether or not it would be good, but Maya really helped calm my nerves! Big thank you! (I really recommend her Patrick fics by the way!)

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace

Masterlist

Careful eyes watched, trained specifically on the woman leaving the apartment. Y/n never thought she’d find herself stalking Patrick’s home, gaze following each hooker after the other, yet here she was. A couple times, she could’ve sworn she saw a girl or two get gifted a violent and bloody end to her stay, but that seemed to be slowing to a halt now.

Was Patrick giving up his killing ways? Was the pleasure overcoming his blood-lust? Or did he have someone specific in mind for his subtle killing spree?

Each time a girl walked out, unharmed, completely casual, Y/n cursed to herself. She thought of ways she could solve the problem, rid herself of the jealousy, but also confess to Patrick before anyone else could.

There was a rather large chance he’d kill her if she did, but she didn’t care. She’d rather die by his hands than any other way, at least she’d be able to tell him the truth.

Feelings aside, she set out to do the bidding of her jealous haze. A knife positioned in her sleeve so perfectly it didn’t touch her skin but still remained invisible to the eye. “Excuse me?”

The blonde turned around, less than modestly dressed, and smirked at Y/n. “Oh hey there! Is there something wrong?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but the woman fueled her anger with an interruption, “Could you make it quick, by the way? I’ve got an appointment with a friend of mine, if you know what I mean.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, confused by the girl’s words.

“Nevermind. Just- get to your point?” Her friendly exterior seemed to vanish at the greeting of Y/n’s obliviousness to her inappropriate reference. Another thing that bothered Y/n. Why couldn’t Patrick pick nicer chicks?

“You and Bateman?”

“Who?” She paused, thinking, before the realization visibly hit her like a dead weight. “Ooooh, Patrick Bateman. Yeah, he’s got a nice bod. Better dick too.”

“How do you know him?”

“I’m a hooker, sweetie. My reference should’ve given it away, if not a tiny bit. I went to Patrick’s place, we hooked up, I left. That’s how it goes... Ya know, maybe he’d let me stay though. I would die for a dick as magical as his.”

“Is that so? Tsk tsk, be careful what you wish for, sweetie.” Venom dripped from the word as she whispered it, mocking the nickname the blonde had dubbed her.

“What?”

Y/n pulled the woman closer to her by her hair, she turned her around and swung her arm around her neck, nudging her arm just enough to get to the knife to slip out. “Enjoy your wish, sweetie.” Blood gushed from the woman’s neck as Y/n’s knife moved in one quick motion across it.

A soft grunt escaped Y/n’s mouth as she felt the warm blood spray on her arm, some of it getting on her face as the body slipped from her grasp. She felt nothing. No regret, no guilt, no sadness. She just murdered someone, and she enjoyed it.

. . .

“Good morning Y/n. How was your night?” One of the employees greeted her, however she was too distracted to notice. Patrick turned his head, confused by the new quietness of his coworker. Normally, he could care less, but, believe it or not, her greetings made his mornings. Most of the time. He elbowed her lightly.

“Oh! It was alright I suppose. Thank you for asking.” She hummed. A sick grin was resting on her face, hidden as she leaned her head down.

Patrick slowly noticed her off behavior throughout the day, but, like mentioned, he didn’t really care. So he brushed it off and packed up. He grabbed his brief case and went home.

There was a girl supposed to arrive in a couple hours, one he’d seen before, this time he was going to give her the ending everyone who slept with Patrick Bateman got.

However.

She didn’t show up.

It was happening often. Or rather, it happened whenever he let a girl go with all her limbs and her heart still beating. They stopped returning.

Bateman walked out of his apartment, looking around for the missing girl. He was just about to head back inside before he heard a muffled scream. Patrick followed the noise, which lead him to quite a sight.

Y/n held her hand over a girl’s mouth, the same girl that was supposed to “visit” Patrick tonight. She was whispering into her ear, holding a knife to her neck with a twisted smile. He waited patiently, watching with amusement and deep curiosity. The same girl he worked with, kind caring and smart, was now preparing to drag a knife across another woman’s throat.

To be honest he didn’t have any hatred towards her or any reasoning to kill her, she was the one person in the office that he could stand. It was entertaining, seeing the most innocent person he knew commit such a violent crime.

“You see, I’m doing a good deed. For you, and me, hun.” She slid the knife against the flesh of the other woman’s throat, watching the blood leave her body, her grin growing wider.

The body dropped to the ground and Y/n shrugged. She picked up the woman, dragging her to the staircase and letting the lifeless body tumble down the stairs, then following after and most likely finding a place to dispose of said body.

Patrick found himself smirking with the side of his mouth, shocked and slightly satisfied. He caught himself, though, and regained his composure, walking back to his apartment and planning what he could do to confront Y/n.

He needed to have a perfect plan. No scaring her off and no accidentally triggering her into killing him.

He laughed at himself.

There was no way she’d be able to kill him. He was bigger than her, faster than her, stronger than her, and obviously had more practice than her.

The blood was still on the carpet, so there was definitely going to be someone getting questioned in the morning. He thought for a moment. Mayhaps, he’d clean up for her this one time, can’t have anyone getting suspicious, could he?

. . .

"Good morning, Y/n.” It wasn’t the first time he’d greeted her, but it was the first that he used her first name. She mumbled a greeting back, but her head shot up when she processed his sentence fully.

“Did I hear you correctly?”

This was a first for him too, the first time he was annoyed by Y/n. Just a bit though. “That question can have many answers, Y/n. It would depend on what you believe I said.”

“I- you did it again!”

“Did what?”

“Used my first name!” she jumped up from her chair.

“Well it is your name, is it not?”

Y/n paused in front of him, “And yours is Patrick. What’re you getting at, Mr. Bateman?” She raised a curious eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Miss L/n, why don’t you tell me? I’m sure the blood near my apartment is a great conversation topic.” He quipped in a whisper. Patrick’s eyes watched Y/n’s face with hidden delight. Her eyes were the size of saucers, but only for a quick second.

“You should go to the authorities, Bateman, would hate to find out some weird murderer is out and about.”

“Yeah, would be a shame if some beautiful murderess caught up to me and put me six feet under, don’t you agree?”

They held eye contact, strong tension filling the air. Finally, they snapped. “Alright Bateman, what did you see?”

“Everything. Poor girl didn’t even get the chance to run before you watched the life drain from her eyes. You made quite a mess,” He walked around her, “luckily, I was there to pick it up for you. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Wait- what? You aren’t gonna kill me, make sure I can’t interfere with your work?”

“No, actually. It’s the opposite, in fact. I’m gonna give you a chance. I already admire you, you’re attractive, you’re not annoying, and now I know you have the killing touch to your life. You’re welcome to join in, as long as you don’t get in the way. Got it?”

She laughed, mostly convinced it was a joke. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Oh dear god, you’re serious.”

“That I am. Now, I hope you’ll take me up on my offer, Y/n.” He walked to the door, stopping before he opened it, “Ah, one last thing.”

“And that is?”

“I’m aware that it’s none of my business, and I wouldn’t like it if you asked such a question of me, but... May I ask what drove you to kill the girls?”

Y/n let the mischievous smirk return to her lips. At work, it was a dangerous thing to show, but this was for Patrick’s eyes and Patrick’s eyes only. “Jealousy, baby.”

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mendesxruel · 2 years

Text

𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒊 𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒊 | 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞

summary: you confess your love for Laurie through a poem

warnings: fluff!! , none (if i missed any pls tell me!)

words: 555 (the title 'means nothing but you and me' <3)

library account: @lolaslibrary | little women masterlist

You entered Laurie's room to find him practising the piano, struggling with a particular part of the song he was playing.

He furrowed his brows at his failing fingers and decided to use them for another kind of art.

You watched as Laurie grabbed his small notebook and a pen, and started writing.

Tugging on a curtain to balance yourself, you accidentally tripped over the carpet. Laurie looked back at you but didn’t manage to see you, as you had rushed away as quickly as you could.

***

You had no idea, but on Christmas night, you would find out what the boy had written on the paper.

Everyone was gathered by the fireplace at the March sisters’ home, giving each other gifts to celebrate this night of being around loved ones.

You had written each person a poem about them. They contained things that reminded you of them, words of admiration and love.

One poem, in particular, stood out from the rest: the one dedicated to Laurie.

“I’m sure these don’t even compare to the collection Y/n must have of poems dedicated to Teddy…”, Jo said, smirking at you.

“I wish,” he frowned.

You handed him the poem, “she’s right…”

The same furrowed expression from earlier covered Laurie’s face, “what do you mean?”

You grabbed your personal notebook from your handbag and gave it to him.

“There. These are all of my poems,” you told him.

He went over all of them and stopped at the last page, which contained a big title handwritten in bold: Theodore.

Laurie read it quickly and couldn’t help but smile at your love confession.

He laughed and reached over to grab something inside his pocket. Taking out the folded paper, he opened it and decided to read it out loud to you.

“Y/n,

You feel like hot tea in a cold morning

You look like autumn at dawn

You talk like the angels in heaven

And you love like the Moon loves the Earth

And I hope I can be the one you love

So I can be the happiest to walk on this planet

Holding hands with my lover.”

He chuckled, “sorry, Y/n, I know this is far from the best but… it was just something I wrote about you once because… I feel like, even with all my failures, all my ups and downs, all the times I needed someone, you were there for me."

He held one of your hands gently, “you never judged me for anything, never condemned me for my mistakes. You held me when I needed someone. You were my shoulder to cry on. You were always there when no one else was. And I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, you forgot about anyone else in the room. Now it was just you and the boy you loved.

You grinned, “all the poems… all of them were about you, Laurie.”

You moved closer to him as he held you and kissed you softly. It all felt much longer than it actually was. When you backed away, you looked around and realised everyone had left you two alone.

Laughing nervously, your first instinct was to hug him the tightest you could, burying your face in his chest.

It was just you and him. You and the boy who loved you.

please please reblog if you liked it !!

📮 laurie taglist.: @mentalthisone @sarahisslytherin @velvetcloxds @maybanksslut @darknoire @ughgclden @itsmentalillness @instabull @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @yer-erster @fumblelace @keziahcore @onlyfreds

#laurie #laurie x y/n #laurie x you #laurie x reader #theodore laurie laurence #theodore laurence x reader #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x you #little women #laurie fluff #laurie little women #little women fanfic #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet laurie #christian bale #christian bale laurie #little women oneshot #little women 1994 #little women 2019

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michaelslover · 2 years

Note

Hey!! So I was wondering if you could right an imagine (or multiple if u want, the more the merrier lmfao) About Bane from the Batman Trilogy?

Maybe one where he finds the reader injured while he’s taking over Gotham and she’s like a well known villain, so he orders his men to take her and she’s like in n out of consciousness, so patches her up and he like vows to protects her or something?

Then later she becomes a sidekick for him and he looks out for her :)

P.S if you are reading this I don’t think he would be all fluffy w the reader (As much as i love it) but I genuinely think he would have a soft spot for her tho haha 😊 Maybe they would have a jokey relationship like a teasing kinda humour

Also yes I have SEVERE daddy issues x

Heyy! Thank you very much for this request!! I feel like Bane is such an underrated character and deserves more recognition. If you’d like another part then feel free to request it, i would love to turn this into a series. I hope you enjoy this!

BANE TAKING CARE OF VILLIAN!READER AFTER THEY GOT INJURED

part 1 / x

pairings: bane x reader

gn!reader | only use of „you“ or „y/n“

warnings: injuries, fainting, blood, villain stuff. english isn’t my first language. not proofread!

——————————————————————————

A new Villain in Gotham meant new and more trouble. He calls himself Bane and he’s a very smart and dangerous man. He wants to take over Gotham and has already created a lot of chaos.

It was on a Saturday when you turned on the TV in your apartment to watch the news. Slumping into the couch and not really expecting anything fun to happen. That’s when you noticed that every News Channel talked about the same thing: „Stadium being completely destroyed“, „Explosion in Gothams well known stadium“, „Bane takes over Gotham“

Oh, he immediately captured your interest. Finally some action in Gotham. This means that Batman would crawl out of his shadow and you have the chance to defeat him.

You packed everything together: weapons and your special knife. You put your suit on and got out of the door, walking straight into the chaos.

The stadium was burning down and the fire grew impossibly stronger. The city was captured in black clouds. You were intoxicated by this view. All you’ve ever wanted and someone else succeed in it: seeing Gotham being taken over and it’s heart (the stadium) burning down. Slowly you made your way over to the stadium, maybe you would be able to get to know this „Bane“.

People were running away from the explosion whilst you were running towards it. Cars were everywhere on the street. Buildings around you were caught in flames. The sound of people screaming and crying filled the city. You were almost there. So near. You recognised a car that you saw on the news today. Does it belong to Bane? You were looking through the car windows: nothing. You kept walking but then realised that some of the cars caught flames and started burning. Suddenly they started to explode. One after the other. The black cloud was now surrounding you.

„Oh, fuck!“, was the last thing you said when the force of an explosion pushed you against a wall and caused you to black out. You were left lying on the ground, injured and in pain.

——————————————————————————

Bane was proud. He was so proud that he finally took over Gotham. His plan worked just perfectly. Everyone was distracted with the explosion and batman is still not in sight.

Bane was heading back to the headquarters when he received a call from a guy in his team. He told Bane that they found you blacked out and injured, left alone on the street. Bane knew exactly who you were, he heard of you in the news. The infamous Y/N. One of the most known villains in Gotham.

He always waited for this moment. To finally meet someone who thinks the exact same way like him. Of course, the men in his team are evil and cruel too but you are something else. He could take over the world with you by his side.

„Take Y/N with you and bring them to the headquarters. Now.“

——————————————————————————

You woke up on a bed, feeling dizzy and sick. You had a heavy headache and could feel all the bruises forming on your skin. You tried to remember what happened and realised that you aren’t in your apartment. You slowly sat up and looked around the room.

A big room. The walls painted in a dark green, a big and soft bed, a small window and a fireplace. You started questioning where you are. If this person would want to harm you, they would’ve handcuffed you in their basement right? But they didn’t. They literally put you in this big bedroom to rest. But who did this?

You slowly remembered what happened but still couldn’t think of the someone who „rescued“ you.

That’s when the door slowly opened up and heavy footsteps approached the room. When the person came to view you were more than just shocked.

„Hello Y/N. How are you feeling?“, he said dryly.

It was Bane. He rescued you. But why? And how did he even know where you were?

„Uh, I’m feeling okay for the circumstances. Why am I here?“

„My team found you blacked out on the street. You are pretty inured and I still have to check on your injuries. I hope you don’t mind.“, he said in a stoic tone.

„I can do that myself.“

„You’re stubborn. In any other given situation I would like that but you are in my headquarters and I make the decisions here.“

„I can do that myse-“, suddenly you were blacked out again.

Bane rushed to your side and put a cold, wet cloth on your forehead to wake you up. He checked your temperature: nothing odd. Must be a concussion.

Slowly you were waking up, reaching for his hand.

„You just proved, that you, in fact, can not do it yourself.“

„I feel miserable. My head is gonna explode and my limbs hurt so. bad.“

„I’m here now. I will protect you from now on. I swear.“, he said as he gently squeezeed your hand.

„You swear? Why do you even care for me?“

„You’re gonna be a part of my team. A very important part. I’ll protect you no matter what happens.“

You suddenly have this fuzzy feeling in your stomach. It’s what they call butterflies, you suppose. You don’t have feelings for Bane now, do you? You realise that you’re holding his hand this whole time and pull your hand away from his.

„Aw, look who gets all soft. I thought you were the man who just blew up gothams stadium with a bunch of people sitting in there. And now you’re here caring for me as if we’re an old couple. Seriously I can take care of myself on my own. I never needed anyone.“ What you said was true, you never needed anyone to help you but sometimes you did want to have a partner to love and take care of. Someone who is as crazy and evil as you. Someone who wants to cause chaos and see the city burn down. And Bane could be that someone but you can’t find the right words.

„Like I said: you are in my team now so I’ll protect you. It’s not because of you. It’s because of me. You could help me with taking over this city. Become my partner in crime.“, he said grabbing bandaids out of a first aid kit.

„Now if you would stop being so fucking stubborn, I could help you with this wounds and let you get some rest.“

You said nothing in response to that. Indicating to him that he can get the work done.

——————————————————————————

After he patched you up, he left the room to let you rest. You were thinking about what he said. Maybe being in his team wasn’t so bad after all..

——————————————————————————

To be continued..

Should I turn this into a series? Tell me what you think in the comments! :)

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anitalenia · 5 months

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. ₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ✧˚ ༘

— 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖘 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 𝘥𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

˚☽˚｡⋆ 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑. The silence was too loud and his room was too cold — his arms and torso were left bare to freeze thanks to you (he was too much of a gentleman to snatch the blanket off you anyway). The heavy rain smacked into his windows pointedly and purposefully; with every loud drop it made his lip twitch in annoyance.

The air was sharp and frosted, it burned his nose when he breathed in too deeply and it made him wonder if Alfred forgot to turn the heat on — better yet if you turned it off, knowing you hated to fall asleep too warm and Alfred was too meticulous and thorough to forget to turn it off at all.

It was dingy and dismal, dark and dreary just as Bruce preferred it to be, so little going on for him to be so awake and agitated but yet… maybe that was just it. The silence, the boredom, the macabre sense of monotony on an unfamiliarly quiet Saturday night — so little going on it was driving him mad.

Bruce stared up at the ceiling with his arms laid out on his shirtless stomach, restless but tired. His limbs were sore and heavy, his body bruised and battered, yet his dark eyes couldn’t help but flicker over to his window ever so often when he thought about what was on the other side of it — the source of his calamity.

He’d stare through the droplets of water at the blurred kaleidoscope of lights as they shone onto his floor, not eagerly per say just habitually; Bruce seldom ever saw a peaceful night in, so unaccustomed with the sweet domesticity of crawling under the covers at 10:30 pm and kissing your lover goodnight — he was usually so busy, for Gotham never slept and crime never seemed to stop.

No, Bruce couldn’t sleep; his thoughts a morbid mess of batman-esque obligation that made it impossible to close his eyes.

You were a different matter entirely as Bruce turned his head to look at you; snuggled up on your side of the large bed with his thick, black comforter surrounding you, breathing gently on the muscle of his shoulder and sleeping soundly, beautifully.

His pretty little wife.

His eyes looked over the sharp shadows of your sleeping beauty. From your wispy eyelashes, to your cute little nose, to your softly parted lips, a soft smile adorning the corner of his mouth as he did — he couldn’t help it.

Your hair was frizzy and tangled messily around your head, your soft breaths ever so often stuttered with an adorable snore but Bruce couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked anyway as he raked his eyes over your face fondly.

As he did he realized how grateful he was that you didn’t need to worry yourself with the things that he did; you were too innocent for the cruelty of Gotham City, too pure and divine; an angel wrapped in wicked tapestry.

Even now, in your pale white pajamas on black silken sheets you looked too fragile for them, like they could wrap their shadowy arms around you and swallow you whole — just as the city could so easily do if he wasn’t there to protect you.

If Batman wasn’t there to save you.

I don’t care, Bruce. I love you anyway.

That’s what you’d always say when Bruce would settle down in bed beside you with a heavy sigh and whisper why do you stay?, on those long nights when he’d come home brutally battered and fatigued. After a night of being heavily reminded to the real dangers waiting just outside his door like a pack of feral dogs and how easily they could ensnare you in their jaws.

I don’t care. I love you.

He loved you too, he really very did.

With that final thought, Bruce was still caught staring at you with a soft look of love on his face when you gently fluttered your eyes open, your body sensing his awareness before your mind could.

He watched patiently as you groggily looked around before eventually meeting his gaze, his eyes getting even softer at the adorable look of confusion on your face.

Your eyes tiredly looked back up at him despite the darkness surrounding you two, able to see his frowned lips and dark eyes clearly, “Bruce? Why are you still awake?”

Your voice was raspy and tired, a small yawn following your statement that made pity tear at his heart for waking you up.

Bruce ran his hazel eyes over your face some more before he responded, unable to stop cherishing you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He simply responded, voice low and intimate, words spoken in the bare space between his lips and yours.

You settled into your silken pillow with a small huff, eyes focused more on Bruce’s face now as the grogginess gradually melted away and your vision became clearer — the silence and rain thrumming calmly around you. It wasn’t a normal night in Gotham City without the rain.

“Well, did you try?” You teased just as quietly as he, smiling a little at the chuckle he gave you in response.

“Yes, of course I tried. It clearly didn’t go as planned.” Bruce mumbled back with a faint snicker, speaking just loud enough so you can hear him over the rain pattering on the windows, a small smile now quirked on his sharp lips.

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes looking between his, knowing Bruce well enough to know when he was lying.

“I don’t really believe you. What’s keeping you awake?” You sighed with furrowed brows, resting your head right next to his bare shoulder to look up at him better — maybe if you pouted in that cute way he liked he’d tell you honestly.

Bruce faltered at that, looking down at you with a heavy heart; he couldn’t possibly tell you that he felt guilty laying in bed with you when he should’ve been out there, out there protecting those who needed him. But the fact of the matter, one he couldn’t argue with, was that you needed him as well.

He couldn’t possibly tell you how conflicted he really was but probably shouldn’t have been; two parts of him sharing the same mind and body but each with entirely different obligations — the irreconcilable duality that was he.

One part of him was Bruce Wayne; millionaire, orphan, husband, you needed that side of him, you deserved to have him for at least one night. But he was also Batman, and Gotham always needed him.

He was haunted with a classic case of Jekyll and Hyde but instead of one side lusting for murderous intent his alter ego longed for rightful justice in the grandest city of injustice. Batman was the only one who could live harmoniously in the dark, the only one capable of doing the things he did. It was an enervative dichotomous life of matrimonial duties and moral obligation.

There were two men sharing the same halves of the same soul and Bruce couldn’t decide which heart to listen to without making the other one feel guilty.

“Just work stuff, honey. It’s nothing you need to worry about, trust me.” Bruce dismissed after a short moment, shaking his head gently with a reassuring smile on his thin lips — like that could convince you of anything.

You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, registering the slight blue bags under his eyes and the crippled fault in his smile, all small clues of his devious, well-intentioned deception.

“Which work stuff?” You prodded carefully, raising a brow at him as suspicions already began to brew in the back of your mind as to what he was really referring.

Bruce chuckled again at that, loving your caring and inquisitive nature any day but wishing you’d just drop it already. He really couldn’t bear weighing any of the pressure he carried on your delicate shoulders, fearing you’d crumble under the weight of it.

“Really, it’s…” Bruce looked back up at the ceiling in indecision, searching for the right words, “it’s nothing I can’t handle, okay?” He looked back down at you with confidence, his voice firmer than before but still softly spoken to get his point across.

You narrowed your eyes at him with that, knowing it was a response you fully expected but were still annoyed to hear.

You were aware that he was lying to you but also aware that he wouldn’t tell you no matter how much you begged him; he never liked to tell you anything about his Batman related problems and it greatly frustrated you for some reason.

As his wife didn’t you deserve to know at least something? You were fully aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to his long awaited proposal. After all, you didn’t just marry Bruce Wayne but you married Batman as well… you could handle the truth even if he didn’t seem to think so.

You sighed anyway, unable to mask your irritation towards him for keeping you in the dark. Your lack of sleep didn’t help the influx of annoyance either.

You took your head off his warm shoulder and went to turn around away from him, your fatigue easily irritating you more than usual.

Bruce licked his lips and sighed, having already disappointed you in an attempt to protect you; a small price to pay if it meant your pretty little head wasn’t clogged with constant, pained disquietude like his was.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” You muttered more to yourself than anything, fussing with the blanket you had wrapped yourself in during your slumber and now seemed to be stuck in.

Before you could fully turn around though Bruce laid a warm, consoling hand on your forearm that made you pause, “Hey, hey, wait.”

You lingered a moment at the feel of it before turning back around to face him, expression a little more sour than before — tired and impatient.

Bruce felt guilt swirl in his stomach at the look on your face, knowing he was disappointing you but also knowing it was for the best.

He kept the hand on your arm, leaning up and wrapping it around your back to bring you into his chest, his other arm going behind your neck and tucking you into his side like you were his most precious doll — you were of course.

You didn’t fight him even if you wanted to, enjoying the warmth he provided and the safety you subconsciously sought out snuck tight in between his arms.

“Bruce.” You grumbled anyway as you settled against him, his arm releasing you for a moment to pick the blanket up and over his waist so there was nothing separating you two from each other.

You felt hard plains of muscle underneath you when he did, a flustered pinkness appearing on your cheeks, then slowly crept in hot embarrassment at the fact that your husband’s carefully structured body that you’ve seen many many times still managed to make you shy.

You melted into his side, albeit a bit stiffly as you were still annoyed with him and wanted to blatantly show it, your arms stubbornly slotted against your chest to separate yourself from laying completely on his.

When Bruce was done adjusting the blanket, the bed moving as he did, he settled still and looked down at you with those kind eyes of his you loved so much, the ones that always flustered you when you stared back into them for too long.

The arm behind your neck pushed you closer to him while he took his right hand and wrapped it around your chin, his palm so warm and big against your jaw that you couldn’t help but sigh in submission.

Bruce gently forced you to look up at him, his eyes staring down at you softly but earnestly.

“Alright, hey, don’t be like that with me. If there was something I thought you really needed to know I’d tell you. Otherwise, it’s best I keep that side of myself as private from you as possible. I hate the thought of you being in danger because of me, because I exposed you to that side of myself you didn’t need to see.” Bruce whispered genuinely, minty breath fanning over your nose as you stared up at him, seemingly calm now and even just a little regretful for being so upset with him in the first place.

“Just give it a rest honey, alright? I promise you, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Do I ever go back on my promises, hmm?” He said sweetly, looking down at you with insistent but loving eyes in the expectation of you responding.

You paused for a moment as you registered his words, still curious to know what he was really thinking about because you just couldn’t help it. You worried for him, wished he’d be more open with you so you could help him in whatever way you could. However, you also didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was either, your mind picturing all the purple bruises littering his beautiful body pitifully.

So, you just shook your head like a scolded child, “No… you don’t.” You’d have to bite your tongue for now, pouting up at him cutely — Bruce was just too sweet to argue with sometimes and he knew it.

Bruce gave you a charming smile, gray shadow washed over the angles of his straight nose and narrow cheeks. His brown hair was more unkempt than usual, wavy tendrils of it fallen around his face. He looked so handsome, more tranquil this way, as he leaned down and gave you a peck on the forehead, a sweet hum sounding in the back of his throat.

“That’s my girl.”

You sighed happily, giving in to him completely now and wrapping an arm around his chest so you could burrow against him; he wrapped his arm around you tighter instinctually, enjoying the feel of you against him as he looked up at the ceiling in content.

Nothing was better than being with you, so much so that Batman himself felt satiated from his lonely perch in the back of Bruce’s mind.

You stared out the large, arched window on his wall for a few quiet moments, watching as the rain quickly fell down the glass one by one as Bruce softly traced his textured fingertips along the spine of your back.

“It always rains, you ever notice that?” You murmured tiredly against his skin, in a daze from the tingling sensation on your skin as he caressed your back in gentle, loving touches.

Bruce looked away from you a moment when you spoke to spare the window a disinterested glance, “What? You don’t like the rain, Mrs. Wayne?” He teased you, his spirits higher than before as he looked back down at you even if you couldn’t see, his nose filled with the sweet smelling shampoo you used — coconut and vanilla.

You smiled a little — you loved when he called you that.

“Well of course you do. You’re Batman, you’re supposed to like depressing things.” You spoke with a smile, only teasing him as your eyes drifted shut from the comfort of his body against yours, muscles melting against the black sheets nestled between his own.

Bruce chucked at that, his hand ceasing its calming motion, “oh, is that right?”

You hummed with an amused smile on your lips, nodding your head, “mmhmm, yes sir.”

Bruce scoffed playfully at that, looking down at you with a fond playfulness in his eyes before gently taking his muscled arm out from underneath your head.

You lifted your head up curiously to look at him, wishing for the moment to not be disturbed, only to be gently rolled over so that Bruce was laid on top of you and you were now sunken into the inky black abyss of cushions beneath him. Your lips parted in a slight gasp, staring up at him with those beautiful eyes he loved so much in surprise.

“Now now, Mrs. Wayne, don’t go calling me that unless you plan on doing something about it, it’s in bad taste.”

You giggled at that, a joyous and twinkling sound that made Bruce tense up, his eyes darting towards your lips and his heart quickening in his chest. You always had such an effect on him even if you didn’t know it.

“How ‘bout you do something about it then?” You whispered up to him sensually, voice low and playful. You could feel the air surrounding the little bubble you two found yourselves in change heavily as you ran your hands softly over his midsection, his light skin cold and soft, muscles hard and firm as you traced your fingers delicately over each individual ab until Bruce was twitching at the feeling.

He glanced down at your hands hotly, already worked up from your minuscule touches alone, his skin tingling from the sensation as a familiar heat started to twirl in his lower tummy.

He looked back down at you, eyes more hooded now but just as eagerly as rain pounded on the windows somewhere in the background — you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of his warm breaths and the gradual throbbing between your own legs.

“Yeah? Would you like if I did something about it, Mrs. Wayne?” Your husband mumbled huskily, a teasing smirk on his lips as he lowered down closer until his face was just above yours, his big arms pressed into the pillow on each side of your head so you were surrounded by him.

He could see the way you inhaled at the name, felt the way your nails dug into his skin for a subtle, fleeting moment. He always knew all the right ways to turn you on, knew all the right words to say to make you melt in his hands like warm syrup — you were certainly just as sweet.

You stared up at your husband with heavy breaths, mouth watering for a taste of him, eyes blown black with love and unabashed want as he sat in the reflection of your irises. Your skin felt hot and your thighs tightened around his waist, arms aimlessly tracing the ridges of muscle that coated Bruce’s front; it was in an innocently naive way now, so unaware of how badly it was affecting Bruce himself as your initial confidence dwindled down to need.

You impatiently waited for him to make a move, give into the desire you both so clearly felt as your eyes ran over his shirtless body and perfect face in the mean time. With every exhale of breath out of his mouth you found yourself inhaling it back in, breathing his air and smelling of Bruce’s aftershave, Bruce’s shampoo, it was all just Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.

He had completely overwhelmed your senses with his smell, his presence, his very existence and it was making it hard to think clearly — only he plagued your thoughts so much it made your fingertips buzz to feel more of him.

It was in moments like these where the sheer size of Bruce was brought to your attention; he was much more muscular than you, all sharp edges and ridges of pure muscle and destruction that could destroy anything he put his hands on.

It was ironic to you, how those same hands that broke bones were the same hands that caressed your skin in the softest of touches, in the softest of ways, irrevocably incapable of breaking you.

Bruce believed he was all carnal ruination — hands made to break and fists made to destroy. He believed he had a dark side in him he couldn’t control, that Batman was the outlet for all the frustration he felt towards the injustices of the city and how easily it corrupted the lightest of souls. He believed he was made to hurt, to cause ruin — a reason why he never took a single human soul no matter how rotten it was.

But you believed he didn’t give himself enough credit, which is exactly why moments like these were so important to remind him.

You swallowed nervously now as you looked back into his eyes, your fingers faltering in their movement as they stilled on the angles of his hips, right outside the tight band of his black sweatpants.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne, that’s exactly what I want.” You whispered back up to him in a velvety soft tone, eyes looking at his pink lips and then flickering back up between his hazel irises lustfully; the look in them was too intense for you to handle but you sufficed, your heart thrumming passionately under your skin at the attention.

Bruce almost melted at the name, just as affected by the title as you were, lowering his face down until his nose was touching yours, his lips hovering right above your own.

“That’s my girl…” Bruce breathed thickly against your lips, his eyes flickering to your mouth as yours did the same to his, your mouth salivating for a taste of him.

A silent beat passed as you both just stayed in that position, locked into each other’s loving gazes and gentle touches, his lips just a whisper away from yours screaming to have you, to taste you. It was intimate and warm, quiet, your body feeling fuzzy and alight with something similar to deep admiration and not so far from a deep, shared love for each other.

There was no playfulness about it now.

It was then, when the tension had sizzled into flame did Bruce finally lean down and kiss you, his lips soft and cold, so contrasting from the warmth he sought in yours as the rain pattered on the windows and your angelic essence drowned him further into the depths of you.

You moaned softly, feeling relief flood through you as your hands gripped his hips for some sort of anchor off the clouds you seemed to be floating on. Bruce kissed you lovingly, a characteristic act of tenderness as he found his own needy noises hum in the back of his throat.

It was sweet and slow, lips careful and gentle against each other between delicate sighs and hums. He tasted of peppermint and the faint drawl of bourbon, his tongue damping your lips and your shared saliva wet on your mouths.

He seperated from you just for a short moment, your lips feeling the loss but not for too long before he was on you once more with a fervor, tongue molding between your lips forcefully and sucking yours into the warmth of his mouth.

You whined at the sudden confidence within him, lips barely moving against his as he took control of your movements and gave you no other option but to take what he gave you — his lips and his tongue tangling with yours messily as sensual rumbles sounded deep from within in his chest.

He brought a hand down from the pillow and intertwined it in your hair, tangling his thick fingers into your roots and pulling hard enough to arouse you further. It made your back arch and lips part in a salacious gasp.

Bruce found himself unable to part from your delectable taste for long, taking that moment to reconnect his damp lips to the skin between your chin and shoulder. He forced your head back as he kissed your neck, the cold air hitting every damp spot in a pleasurable tingling sensation that had your nails digging into his abs.

“Bruce…” You sighed oh so sweetly in a distracted state of mind, just wanting to say his name and have him hear how good he was making you feel with his simple kisses alone — a feat he always accomplished anytime he did.

The praise didn’t fall on deaf ears but he was too preoccupied with the sound of your heavy breaths and whines to really pay attention, too love drunk on the smoothness of your skin falling over his tongue as he licked his way down to your collarbone. He released his grip on your hair and his hands made idle work in caressing their way down your body to the hem of your white pajama top.

His hands were eager, so familiar on the curves of your body as they slid back up to your chest, hands big and desperate as they tightly gripped your bosom for a fleeting moment that had you moaning at the sting — he was handsy, unable to get enough of you and the way your body perfectly slotted between the strength and ridges of his hands.

His cock was already hard in his slacks, poking against your thigh absentmindedly as his hands dug into the center of your top and adamantly ripped it right down the middle. The buttons flew over the bed and your tits spilled out of the ripped material in a gorgeous ripple of flesh that had Bruce groaning at the sight.

“So beautiful, so gorgeous, just fucking perfect…” He mumbled in a lustful daze, more to himself as a factual observation, his hands now gripping your waist, eager mouth leaning down and making quick work to lap at your chest in the way he knew you liked.

You giggled dreamily at that, feeling fluttery and lightheaded at the praise, body warm and melting like a cube of butter on top of his silk bed sheets. He was always capable of making you melt with just a few loving words and caresses, another one of his talents.

Your hands had found their way into his thick hair, massaging at the loose strands when you decided it was impossible to stay still from the buzzing running through your pores.

Your pussy throbbed in your pajama shorts, painfully so, stomach in tight knots at the sparks shooting down to your core from his ministrations.

He found himself enthralled by the feeling of your tit in his mouth, fervently sucking on the skin there as his hands gripped into your waist so tight in a subconsciously possessive hold so you could never leave. Maybe it was the semblance of Batman himself leaking out from under tight fingertips, a degree of fierce protection in the way he held you underneath him, unable to be taken or destroyed by the same evil he fought almost every night.

You were here with him, with him and all of his burdens for the rest of your lives.

“So gorgeous…”

Bruce was lost in the pleasure you helplessly moaned in his ears, feeling his own mutual desire swirling in his tummy and thrumming through his skin that made every touch feel like fire, every kiss an ember from the flame until you and him were intertwined ash lost in the black smoke.

He loved you, his pretty wife, always so supportive and forgiving in the moments he definitely didn’t deserve it.

He picked his head up, panting and lips wet, your chest littered in pink marks and damp with his spit as Bruce licked his lips, hungry for more already.

You looked at him in all his glory, admiringly, just as enamored with him as he was with you as your warm hands slid down to his cheeks. Your own were flushed pink and feverish, breath warm and heavy as you lovingly ran your palm over his sharp cheekbone. His skin was soft, smooth and tepid under your dainty fingertips.

You gently caressed the faint purple of a bruise with your thumb, right in the hollow of his eye.

Bruce leaned into the tender action for a spared moment of comfort, his eyes hooded and twinkling in the dark as he breathed heavily against your lips. He kept finding himself absent in the presence of your beauty, staring at your face and your lips and being so thankful he had you at all.

“So beautiful…” He breathed gingerly, eyes looking over your face like he was seeing you for the first time — no, he was selfish in his blatant admiration of your magnificence, his heart throbbing almost painfully in his love for you as he watched the soft corners of your mouth twist into a shy smile at your devotees idolatrous attention.

He leaned down after a fond moment of your thumb tracing his cheekbone, after he was satisfied with his generous intake of your prettiness. He pecked an affectionate kiss on your smiling lips before dipping his head down and laying several kisses to your neck once more.

You bit your lip at the sensitive feeling, closing your eyes, lost in the feel of him, as he pampered you with doting kisses all the way down to your ribcage, his hands now playing with the hem of your shorts but not too boldly as to take them off quite yet.

“You’re everything, you know that? I could never imagine my life without you… you’re perfect, so perfect.” He rubbed your stomach adoringly, “Your body is perfect, so beautiful, I can’t believe you ever married me…” He mumbled in that rough voice of his, vulnerable in the night, in the moment when you couldn’t see him all the way clearly but he could see all of you just fine.

You could feel another smile playing on your lips — not that it had even left — the heavy sensation of happy tears casting a light sheen over your eyes. He was the perfect one, he was the gorgeous and beautiful counterpart of you that didn’t seem to realize his own value. You only wished you had the poetic spark in yourself that he had, then you’d be able to voice it properly. Still, his praise made your heart swell as he took your left hand and kissed the diamond ring on your finger amorously.

“Oh, Bruce…” You spoke in a hushed manner, voice wobbling from the overwhelming infatuation you had for the man, so thankful and grateful for such a man as wonderful as he. In your eyes the sudden romance had come out of nowhere, but it was still greatly appreciated as it caused your voice to thicken with the downpour of love it had spiked.

He looked into your eyes as he warmly kissed your palm, lips quirked slightly, eliciting another tender hearted smile from you. He then let you settle your hands back on his shoulders as he slotted himself between your hips, the affectionate moment lingering in the air as you pet his wide shoulders.

You were laid on your back, smooth thighs spread to accommodate his size between them, pajama top ripped down the middle in fragmented material hanging off your shoulders, your tits pooled on your chest and wet with his kisses. Your hair was tangled, fanned around your head, lips pink and plushy from all his salacious kisses, your eyes glittering erotically bright.

Despite that, you were not uncomfortable to be so exposed to him, exposed in a way you’d only ever be with him. You knew he would never judge you nor your body, that he loved you and all your freckles and scars and all the blemishes you considered imperfections — he loved them all. The only part of you not seen were covered by the shorts Bruce was already eager to take off.

You were beautiful to him, ethereal even, just as he said you were an angel, something divine and pure, a holy deity completely out of this world that transcended the mortal plane he was bound to, letting his lowly lips and hands cherish your merciful soul and body. Just oh so perfect.

“I love you…” You whispered, pathetically cute, down to him, a whisper wafting into his ears soft and fragile as if you were scared he wouldn’t say it back — he’d say it everyday for a thousand years if he had the blessing of living that long with you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulsing with need, as you smiled down at him sweetly.

“I love you more, Mrs. Wayne… I love you more…” He breathed hotly against your stomach, already leaning down and peppering sugarcoated kisses along your pelvis, so much closer to where you really needed him that the throbbing had become unbearably intense, wetness soaking your inner thighs and cream colored shorts. You felt your body shiver at the title once more.

You swallowed shakily as Bruce moved down, his daft fingers hooking into the band of your shorts and gently shoving them down to your knees as his longing lips reached the band of your lavender laced panties.

Your thighs tightened around his head as cool air hit your wet center, your body sensitive and pulsing heavy notes of desire straight into your pussy that made it hard to keep your head up and eyes open.

You just needed him, needed him and his expert mouth to bring you some sort of relief. Your toes were curled already, pussy clenching around nothing and spewing out clear juices that only damped your underwear further. You tangled your fingers into his hair heatedly, resisting the urge to shove his head down where you really wanted him.

Bruce swallowed hungrily, staring at your panty-clad pussy with dark eyes. He could smell your sweetness on his nose, the rain pattering on the windows still and the room still dark as sin but he could see his heaven clear as day, hypnotized by the patch of wetness in your panties, molded to the shape of your pussy lips and begging to be ripped apart.

His eyes flickered up to you, feeling your grabby fingers tangled in his hair as your thighs tensed back and forth around his neck.

Your head was barely held up, eyes hooded and sparkling with a form of lustful desperation as you stared down at him. Your chest bobbing up and down heavily and your skin radiant and smooth, the city lights from his window blurredly reflected in the fat of your cheeks. You already looked destroyed, like he had just fucked your brains out yet he really hadn’t done a thing.

“Bruce, come on…” You whined in a delicate plea when he made no movement further, hands barely pulling his hair but it was hard enough for his skin to prickle in pleasure, a hiss leaving his lips, just hard enough to get your message across.

He snickered at that, lips shiny and jaw chiseled, his face so sharp yet soft at the same time. His beauty greatly perplexed you for how could a mere mortal be so fucking handsome? He was though, he was strong and big and riddled with scars and imperfections yet the accumulation of all those little faults are what made him flawless.

Bruce himself felt the throbs of impatience nestled in his stomach, burrowed in his heart, buzzing at his fingertips, as he looked down at your pussy once more just inches from his mouth, both wet and watering for the other.

“Be patient, honey. I just wanna look at ‘cha first. You’re so pretty, dripping wet for me…” He had the audacity to murmur in that cocky voice of his, yet simultaneously genuine and stunned at the observation as his hands rubbed your thighs, being sure to heartily press into the tissue in that way he knew you liked.

You couldn’t help but pull his hair some more, bursting at the seams for some sort of pleasure you feared it would boil over and you’d explode. You felt frustration settle through your veins once more like molten lava, your skin tensing and thighs aching from their tight grip around his neck.

“Bruce, no more teasing, please? Just please…” You moaned and whined like a stubborn girl, voice thick with need and painful yearning that made his cock twitch in his pants. You almost sounded broken, voice fragmented with a certain torment only his mouth and fingers could appease.

He licked his lips, feeling desire swell in his lower tummy at the state of you — already so incapable of any thought but the memory of his cock inside you, the feeling of his fingers drilling into your tight hole as he spat and licked on your sensitive clit. It was all you could think about, all you could picture in your mind as your head laid back on the pillows and you scooted down the bed until your pussy was right in his face.

The blanket had long since been forgotten, bunched around his hips and aiding as a nice cushion for his abdomen hunched over the end of the bed.

Bruce felt himself chuckle huskily at your shameless neediness, his big hands stopping on your plush inner thighs as he settled down between your legs on the soft mattress, getting himself comfortable for you.

You breathed heavily, eyes closed as you laid back on the silken pillow with your face crumbled so cutely. He was such a tease even when he was meant to be sweet, even when he was insistent on being a good husband who doted on his wife whenever he could — you guessed growing up rich gave him that arrogant edge.

Your stomach was knotted so tight, your skin hot and shivering for some sort of touch as your fingers dug themselves into the roots of his damp, brown hair. You needed him so bad, but your pussy needed him worse.

You felt your thighs tickle as Bruce lightly traced the pads of his fingers down, down, down until he was at the crook of your inner thigh, his right hand digging into the flesh of your leg like he himself couldn’t hold back from you anymore.

Bruce didn’t bother voicing any teasing quips or dirty statements, knowing you were so out of it you wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Every fiber of your being was hooked on his touches, hyper aware of the spots his fingers trickled across, eager for some degree of pleasure that would make this painful waiting period worth it.

He swallowed down the salvia pooling in his throat, so hungry for a taste of you, starved almost. His index finger hooked into your panties and delicately pushed them out of the way until they were bunched in the crook of your thigh. His eyes were met with your soaking wet slit in all its glory.

White, creamy arousal stuck to your panties and dripped down your pulsing hole into the crack of your ass, sheer white beads of cum dribbled down your needy hole that would escape his tongue before he even got a proper taste of you yet.

The cool air made you whine behind closed lips, your voice high pitched and desperate now, your fingers tighter in his hair as your hips subtly bucked forward. The beautiful noises you were making made Bruce’s jaw clench.

You were glistening, shiny with arousal and the strings of impenitent want, evidence of your desire and love for him as he found himself inhaling the scent of you once more.

You smelt so good. He found himself groaning at the musky sweetness, his finger still hooked around the crotch of your panties as his other hand tightly gripped your thigh — you moaned softly at the pressure, sure that there would be the faint yellow bruises of his adoring fingerprints pressed into your skin tomorrow. A charming reminder of the evening when they blossomed.

You felt your core clench once more, thighs tensing up as wetness shone in his greedy irises.

Bruce was unable to wait any longer, his mouth salivating and his eyes blown black as he pressed his tongue into your wet hole and licked a bold stripe all the way up to your buzzing clit, the taste of your arousal pooled on his tongue and already dripping down the sharp corners of his mouth.

You couldn’t stop the loud moan from echoing in the room, euphoric sounding as sweet sparks went off all over your skin at the long awaited contact. Your fingers tightly anchored themselves in Bruce’s hair as his tongue went up and down your folds, gathering as much of your wetness in his mouth as he could.

His hands swiftly dug themselves into your hips to hold you down once you started writhing in his hold. His tongue forcefully circled your clit in sharp wet strokes, deep rumbled moans escaping his chest that vibrated the sensitivity of it and only made more wetness gush out of you and soak his chin.

You tasted so good, so fucking good; he wanted nothing more than to be drowned in your essence, choking on everything you gave him until his belly was full and even then he wouldn’t be satisfied, he’d never be satisfied. He was like a monster, chasing every little drop of cum that pebbled out of your clenching hole with a forked tongue, greedy and carnivorous like you were the only nectar he ever wanted to taste again.

His tongue lapped your pussy once more as you gasped, back arched and toes clenched as he thrusted his tongue into you over and over, wet and messily as your juices shimmered on his cheeks and lips.

No, he decided, the beast within him would never be tamed.

You bucked away from his mouth in a pathetic attempt to free yourself from the overwhelming pleasure, but Bruce held you down with his strong arms, staring up at you with furrowed brows of concentration as his lips molded over your puffy clit once more, swollen from need and his relentless licking.

He was nothing if not devoted, devoted to your elegance, to your holy figure and endless love as he lapped at you desperately, his tongue swirling your clit as the fabric of your panties tickled his nose. He couldn’t get enough, pushing deeper and harder until your wetness was messily smeared on his mouth and face, eating more and tasting more until his entire being was smothered with your cum inside and out.

“Bruce, o-oh my god!” You squealed wantonly, one hand now gripping the black sheets between tight fingers as your other hand remained in his hair, following the movements of his head as he went up and down, side to side until not an inch of you wasn’t covered in his salvia.

He breathed hotly against you, his eyes closed as he savored the feel of you in his mouth and trickling down his throat. He couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t listen to reason as all he could focus on was you and your cum, tasting you, licking you, having you in every sense of the word. No one could tear him away from you, not now, not when he was so close to having you cum in his mouth and reaching his final purpose.

You were so close, you could feel it in your tummy. Your hole clenching around his tongue as he went back and forth from your clit and your soaked hole, wanting to pleasure you but simultaneously wanting to taste you for his own pleasure.

Your toes curled, stomach tightened, hands gripping the sheets as your mouth flew open in sporadic moans and gasps, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your thighs squeezed around Bruce so tight you’d fear he’d never surface from between your legs again.

He wouldn’t have a problem with that.

Bruce picked his head up only high enough to talk, lips dripping and almost incoherent as he mumbled deeply into the wet folds of your pussy like he couldn’t bear to part, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, Mrs. Wayne, make me proud, cum in my mouth.” As he voiced this his one hand crept down and slyly inserted themselves into the tight confine of your warmth, his index and middle fingers pushing inside you, so long and so big it made you cry out.

It was wet and warm, your juices slapping against his knuckles as he circled his fingers inside you, pushing on the spot he knew he was supposed to as his mouth eagerly returned to your clit. He looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy as he stared at your tits jiggling with every thrash of your hips, every arch of your back and every gasp out of your pretty, dampened lips.

He groaned into you at the sight, feeling his cock achingly hard in his pants as he sucked your clit into the warmth of his mouth and refused to let go, tongue prodding the area skillfully and harshly. He wasn’t going to stop this time, not until you were creaming around his fingers and leaking down his neck.

The air was so thick and stuffy that you couldn’t help but pant fervently, your body prickled with pleasure and overwhelming sensations that made it hard to focus on anything but his fingers inside you, long and lithe, slipping in and out as the sounds of your wetness clouded your ears and muffled your moans.

Bruce himself was lost in you, tongue and lips a glistening mess as they lapped and circled and sucked every part of your pussy exposed to him, it felt so good it stung — he was groaning into you softly, pleasure building in his tummy and rumbling through his mouth to your already so sensitive clit.

It was then, just a few short moments after his fingers wormed their way inside your tight walls, just a few short moments after he sucked your clit into his mouth did you feel your stomach relax, thighs squeeze around his head so hard he felt himself go dizzy.

“Ahh, O-oh my god, Bruce!” You moaned so blissfully, so sweetly, as your juices squirted onto his chin and his fingers squelched inside you.

Bruce moaned at the feeling, fingers gently sliding out of your clenching hole so his tongue could catch all the cum pouring out. You whimpered at the feeling of his mouth still on you, lapping at your hole like a dehydrated villager kneeling at a prosperous fountain, your skin pasty and so so hot.

He lapped at your pussy a few more times, up and down, ensuring he got his fill for the evening as faint tremors wracked your body in the aftershocks of his giving nature. You were flat on the bed now, belly sore from the tightness it held for so long, legs limp and body spent as you panted gently, heart throbbing in your ears.

You managed to lazily caress his sweaty hair though as Bruce surfaced from between your legs, face glistening and lips sore and pink. He looked manic, hair pulled and tangled and messily scattered on his face yet he seemed to be glowing at the same time, like he had never felt so alive and it made you want to giggle.

He sniffled, looking up at you with an impish grin, the taste of you lingering in his mouth and staining his nose. His hands fondly massaged your shaking thighs, noting your wrecked appearance and tired eyes, your sweaty skin flushed and warm.

He couldn’t help it as he glanced down at the mess he made, your slippery wet folds and the large patch of wetness staining his sheets.

“Mrs. Wayne, pardon my brashness of course,” He said almost sarcastically, breathless and rugged, an amused smile quirked on his lips as he leaned forward and embraced your hand with his, “but you taste utterly divine.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @little-miss-chaoss — I hope it’s okay I tagged you, you said you wanted to be tagged in everything 😭🙌🏻

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