#christian bale x you

[mysadcorner]

Could you write stealing clothing from (Bale) Bruce wayne headcanons please??

Stealing Bruce Wayne's (Bale) Clothes Headcanons

-Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

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• Bruce would be speechless if he ever caught you wearing his clothes without telling him beforehand. It would certainly be in a good way, though. It entices him and he approves of it fully, especially if his clothes end up being massively oversized on you due to how large he is and much he works out.

• He would be more than happy for it to happen often, and wouldn’t do anything to stop you. He loves the fact that you’re comfortable enough to wear his clothes, especially as he hasn’t had many people want to be close with him like that in a genuine way. The more you wear his clothes the better.

• Having others see you wearing his clothes wouldn’t bother him in slightest, as long as you aren’t uncomfortable by it. Someone simply being around his home while you wear one of his shirts makes him feel closer to you, and warms him inside knowing that you’re willing to be public about your affection toward him, even if it is just a small simple gesture.

• If Bruce ever felt like he was going through too many of his clothes, or you were simply taking his favourite pieces all the time, he would then buy more to make sure he always had enough around for the both of you. He doesn’t want you to wear his clothes less and if that means having duplicates of his favourite clothes just so you can both wear them then he’s more than fine with that. And it’s not as though he can’t afford to do so.

• Seeing you wear his shirts to bed make things even more intimate, and you probably find them more comfortable than wearing normal nightwear. You can always be sure that his clothes are well made and breathable meaning you won’t feel restricted in them, and due to the size of his shirts they’ll cover you well. Despite him sleeping shirtless most nights, he finds you sleeping in his clothes quite endearing.

• Bruce finds the sight of you wearing his clothes incredibly attractive, and it’ll probably be the cause of him initiating intimacy more often when he has the time to. You’re adorable and sexy at the same time, so depending on whether you want an intimate or relaxing time with him he’ll be more than willing for either.

• He will always encourage you to wear his clothes more often and will even start to consult you about the clothes he buys before he decides on them to see what you think about them and weather you would like to wear them too. He may even go out of his way to wear his clothes for a short period of time before handing them over to you if you prefer to wear them with the smell of him on them, or will let you use his cologne to make the shirts smell more like him when he’s away for a while.

• When you have decided on your favourite pieces of clothes to wear of his, then he’ll start to form emotional attachments to those specific pieces. He becomes associated with you through the clothes you’ve chosen and is reminded of you every time he picks out his clothes for the day by seeing each of those clothing items. If you’re ever separated for a while he’ll take some of these with him as a reminder of you and may even hope to see you wearing them again once he gets back.

[makeyoumine69]

Love ur writing it always makes me so happy when you post

For the celebration can you do breeding, belly bulge, and loss of innocence/virginity please 🥵🥵

Obsession

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: When your father told you that you were going to marry the son of his biggest business partner, named Patrick Bateman, you didn't believe him at first, but eventually you had to face reality and accept your destiny.

◥ WARNINGS: Smut, hurt /comfort, forced marriage, forced pregnancy (kinda), loss of virginity, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, nipple play/tit sucking, teasing, vaginal sex, creampie, belly bulge, Breeding kink, Praise kink, Innocent kink, Size kink, sweet dirty talk, multiple orgasms, humiliation, manipulation, pet names, horny hubby!Patrick Bateman himself.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 4.1k

◥ SONG REC: Mariah Carey - Obsessed🖤

◥ A/N: Finally, I managed to finish this prompt. I really enjoyed writing it, thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it!

◥ LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [BWC MASTERLIST].

You were so scared and lost that you couldn't really believe it was happening - you wished that marrying Patrick Bateman was just a dream... but it wasn't. It all felt so real when after the super luxurious wedding, you rode in his limo to the Plaza Hotel for your first night together. Because the whole situation between the two of you was so rushed, you didn't even have time to get to know each other better, your father was too impatient and he wanted this marriage to happen as soon as possible. However, you remembered Patrick since you were children and all the girls around were always so charmed by him, even when he was just a little cheeky boy.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Patrick suddenly asked, placing his large palm on your knee. 

With a sharp gasp, you shrugged from his unexpected touch and turned to face him, holding for a moment to admire his beautiful, brown eyes. 

“Nothing.” You replied, breaking eye contact with him once you noticed you were staring at him for too long. 

You heard him letting out a tired sigh, and then Bateman tried to cuddle with you a bit, wrapping his arm around your slightly shaking shoulders. “I know that everything seems to be a bit messy but…”

"It doesn't seem like it, but it really is," you looked at him again, his face so close to yours that you had to hold your breath. "Literally…everything."

"Baby, please. Don't interrupt me, okay?" Patrick tried his best to be patient and polite, but you could feel his hand tightening on your back with each passing moment. "Things are really messed up, but I want to assure you – if you can be a good wife, I'll be a great husband to you. That sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?"

Shivering from being so close to him, you almost writhed in your seat when you felt his searing lips brushing behind your ear as he murmured something soft, something soothing, but you couldn't concentrate as the meaning of his words slipped away from you like a leaf in the wind.

“Pat-Patrick, actually … there’s one thing I didn’t tell you yet,” you mused nearly audible. “You know, I’ve never been close with anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

As soon as you opened your mouth to respond, the limo stopped and you both looked into the window to see the beautiful illumination of the Plaza. 

“Oh thank God, we’re finally here … I really hate NY in this time of the day, because of these fucking traffic jams.” 

Bateman’s rants still resound behind your back even when you got outside. Gently, he held your waist for support as you moved to the entrance to the grand hotel, your hand kept fixing the hem of your massive dress. 

It was not surprising that Patrick chose a luxury presidential suite for you, with large rooms and high ceiling above. You couldn't hide your fascination and that made him smirk loftily whilst he was helping you to remove your half-coat. Little by little, you moved to what was supposed to be a living room and took a seat on the huge black leather couch, suppressing growing anxiety inside your chest. 

“Do you like this place?” Patrick looked at you before letting out a short whistle, removing his jacket. 

“Yes, it’s really nice.” Smiling timidly, you clutched at the skirt of your dress once you saw him coming closer. 

“Uh, you always loved fancy things, darling,” he sat next to you, throwing his leg over another and placing his hand on the back of the couch, almost touching your shaky shoulders. “Well, nothing's too good for my wifey.”

His kiss on your lips was so sudden that it sent a million chills down your spine, causing your lungs to cramp from the lack of oxygen. At first, you clawed frantically at his solid biceps as you felt his hot tongue slide against your mouth in a demanding manner. You jolted once you gave him what he wanted, because this kiss was nothing compared to the one you shared at the wedding - it was much more passionate, but still you couldn't relax.

“Pat-Patrick, please … wait,” you whispered as your voice shook, searching for his brown eyes which now were dark as a midnight sky. “You must know one very important thing.”

“What is it, my dear?” 

"I'm..." you stuttered from the way he was staring at you, his hungry gaze literally eating you alive. "I'm a virgin, Patrick."

He frowned for a moment, then laughed uproariously before pulling up the hem of your dress, messing with its countless layers. "You can't be serious."

His reaction really embarrassed you, so you just pushed his big palm away and got up, leaving him on the couch with a disappointed grimace on his face.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He asked annoyingly, his golden Rolex wiggling on his wrist as he raised his hands in confusion.

"I want to get off this dress and change into something else," you complained, trying to reach the ties at the back of your dress to undo them. "I hate it!"

It was as if he hadn't even noticed your ranting when he rejoined you: "And what about that guy from college who was hovering around you like a fucking shark? Poor guy missed his chance to get a bite of a delicious pie like you?"

Gritting your teeth, you shrugged at the unpleasant sensation and shouted: "Don't you dare talk about him like that!"

He chuckled again, in his natural haughty way. "He was always a loser, and I always knew you would be mine."

You were almost done with the ties, but as soon as you heard his last words, you froze, feeling something snap in your mind. "What did you just say?"

Bateman's grin grew even wider as you turned to face him, with an unhidden dread in your eyes. "I said I always get what I want..." He stood up and walked over to the large coffee table near the couch, taking a glass and pouring some red liquid into it. "Wine?"

When you didn't answer, he took a sip of alcohol before continuing his malicious confession: "As you probably remember, my dear (Y/N), my father wanted me to marry," with every word he said, Patrick was slowly closing the distance between the two of you. "And he also wanted me to have an heir. The American dream family, that really works best for a good social reputation".

He paused, standing almost face to face with you, you could feel his expensive perfume enveloping you like a mist. “And?” 

Your curiosity made him sneer with delight, so he cupped your cheek and looked down at you, murmuring softly as if trying to lull you into a fake sense of comfort. "And then there was a business meeting with your father where I remembered you as the ideal candidate to be my wife," he smiled almost lovingly, stroking your cheekbone and placing a tender kiss on your temple. "Too bad you couldn't see the look on your father's face when we talked about it, he was as happy as if he'd won a fucking billion dollars."

Stifling the immense pain in your heart, you closed your eyes and almost fell into his embrace from the feeling of being so miserable in this selfish world. His words only proved your thoughts about being just a figure in another chase game of your dad, and according to what Bateman just told you - your father won a jackpot by forcing you to marry the son of his biggest business partner.

“But to be fair, I didn’t expect to be that lucky …” he murmured before pulling you closer, his hands traveling around your lower back. “… to get such an innocent flower.”

When Patrick kissed you on lips again, you didn’t even struggle as the dark void inside your soul was consuming all of your thoughts and feelings, leaving you completely empty. With no rush, Bateman was undoing the rest of the ties on your dress as if he was unwrapping his most desirable gift. Your throat shivered in a choked gasp, as your body was traitorously responding to each touch he made, especially when his large palms ran across your boobs to give them a slight squash. 

"Baby, you don't have to be afraid of me." His suddenly charming voice sounded like honey, so sweet and stringy. 

"I'm not afraid," you stared up at him, catching his hands that were now caressing your thighs. "I'm so... so fucking disappointed."

"It's understandable."

"But not for you," you scowled a bit, biting your lip to keep the salty tears from welling up in your eyes. "I'm just a toy for you... just like for my beloved father."

Suddenly Patrick's eyebrows knitted, making him look a little frustrated. "No, you're not."

"Enough lies," you wanted to push him away, but he only held you tightly, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. "This is all so fake!"

"Maybe everything around us is fake, but we are not..." he gently traced a finger along your cheek, moving down to outline your trembling lips. "We're real, and when I said I'd take care of you, it wasn't a lie."

The way he looked at you was literally captivating, it caught you off guard and you couldn't help but breathe out sharply as his plump lips nestled against the sensitive spot on your neck. 

"Pat... Patrick," your hands clung to his shoulders as you desperately searched for protection, and your inner nature told you that he could do it - his strong arms were like a shield between you and the whole world. "I really want to make it work, but..."

Bateman didn't allow you to finish, pressing his thumb against your mouth and then lifting you up as if you weighed nothing as he walked into the big, fashionable bedroom. Shaking slightly, you closed your eyes from the sense of unreality that clouded your mind like the strongest alcohol.

Did he just say he was going to take care of you? 

The man you had always known as a total egoist, who loved no one but himself, now covered your small frame from above as he laid you on the king-size bed, planting little kisses on your cheek before settling on his knees, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his white shirt.

"You look gorgeous, (Y/N)," he mused, taking your leg to peck at your ankle, causing your back to arch at his unexpected tenderness. "As you always do."

Cautiously, Patrick slid down your luxury wedding dress, exposing your bare skin that was not hidden under your beautiful white lingerie - just a glimpse of it made him swallow hard, and when you gave him your most innocent look, he licked his lips briefly as his nostrils began to turn red.

Panting barely audibly, Bateman stood on the floor to remove his clothes, not wasting a moment to admire your embarrassed face, the more naked he became, the more noticeably you began to fidget.

"Come here, darling." He purred like a cat and beckoned you over to sit on the edge of the bed.

There was something sweet about him, as all the girls always said when they saw him, which was probably the reason why you couldn't resist him as you obeyed and knelt beside him, waiting for his next move.

“Babydoll,” he stroked your cheekbone, and you closed your eyes again from the blissful sensation of his warm palm. “Tonight, I’m gonna guide you into the world of pure pleasure … ”

You shuddered at his promise as your insides tightened like a spring - that strange sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"You'll never be the same after this, sweetheart." Bateman crooned, wrapping his hand around your neck, not to hurt you, but to make you feel his unspoken dominance.

“A-ahh,” your low moan caressed his ears and that was one of the most delighted things he ever heard. “What do you want me to do?”

Your hasty question impelled him to humm in absolute adoration, as Patrick drew near your mouth to kiss you hungirly, never in your life someone was kissing you like that, sucking on your lips one by one and biting them a bit, making you literally melt in his strong arms.

"Be yourself, (Y/N)," he whispered into your ear, hugging your shoulders before pushing on them determinedly, and now you were sprawled on the bed beneath him. "You're incredible just the way you are."

Trembling, you wanted to scream as his words worshiped your broken soul, even if he was only doing it to befuddle you and get what he wanted - in that moment, you didn't care as the strange, burning desire grew from the inside, corrupting your innocent mind by the second.

Delicately, Bateman darted his soft fingers against your belly, sliding them up to your heavy breasts, teasing your nipples with light strokes, you gasped from that contact, creasing the blanket and spreading your legs that allowed him to rest himself more comfortably. 

“Good girl,” he praised you and pulled down the straps of your lingerie to expose your extremely hard peaks. “Mmm … my sweet, little girl.” He gave one of them a few licks, before he took it into his hot mouth, sucking it with pure delight. 

“A-aww, Gosh … ” You wailed and enfolded your arms around his head, not even realizing you were pressing him closer. 

Patrick exhaled a muffled groan and switched to your other nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it so deliciously that the tight knot in your lower abdomen was begging to be released.

“Patrick! P-Patrick please!”

“Mmm, honey, you have amazing tits,” he huffed and trapped your swollen tip between his sharp, white teeth, forcing you to freeze in silent moan of pleasure. Seizing the moment, he sneaked his long fingers between your legs to grope your taut lower lips. “Fuck, you’re soaking wet and we have only just started.”

Breathing heavily, you look up at him from under your lashes with your dazed eyes, feeling his soft finger pads slide up and down your feverish pussy. Bateman stared back at you, smirking in his arrogant way, especially when you jerked beneath him as he slipped a thumb inside your panties and pressed it against your sensitive nub.

"No one's ever touched you like this before?" Patrick asked, rubbing your clit steadily, forcing you to bend your legs into knees to give him more space to play with. 

You tossed the pillows around to cover your face and just nodded, feeling his ministrations becoming more and more insistent, you didn't know how long you could stand it. 

"Mmm, does that feel good, baby?" He watched you from above, admiring the view of your trembling body as his fingers slid over your cunt like clockwork, making obscene, sleek noises.

"A-arrh, yes ... mmm ... so good."

To be fair, Bateaman knew what you were going to say before you answered, because he was absolutely confident in his sex skills, and you would remember this night for a long time.

First, he left a light kiss on your side, passing your rib bones as he descended to your mound, leaving a wet trail of hickeys. Fondly, Patrick opened your hips wide apart, and he had to hold them securely as he pushed your underwear aside. You winced because you knew what he was going to do, and when he finally latched his plump lips against your blushing clit, you didn't know whether to stop him or explode right here - his skilled tongue left you with no choice. 

"Mm-mmhm, ohhh God, I can't... I can't, Patrick! It's too much," you writhed on the bed, the tension in your womb too intense for you to bear. "P-Please ... ah, please ..."

Uncertain of what you were pleading for, you let him strap your legs over his broad shoulders as he lapped at your cunt without stopping, sucking your burning flesh and consuming your sweet juices like his favourite dessert. You were so fucking close to combustion when a sudden sharp pain ripped through your body, causing you to shriek in agony.

"Shh, it's all right ... I need to prep you, (Y/N)," he smooched the inside of your hip, slowly pushing his thin fingers into your spasming cleft. "Hang in there, baby. Will you do it for me?"

His voice was so soothing, so convincing. As you wiped away your tears, you saw him offer you a hand and you took it, letting your fingers intertwine. Patrick interpreted this gesture as a 'yes' and the next moment his lips found their way back to your clit, flicking it with his warm tongue and sparingly pumping your pussy with his expert fingers.

As much as he attempted to be gentle, it was still painful as he plunged deeper with each passing second.  "Mmm, I..." you stammered as you felt him add another finger. "I'm scared, Patrick."

"Don't be," Bateman mused after tugging on your little tip with a squelch, slowly twisting his digits and looking at you from between your legs. "As long as you're a good girl for me, you've got nothing to worry about."

Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes from the stinging sensation of your shimmering tears. You knew there was no going back, you belonged to this man now and he could do whatever he wanted with you. Still, you tried to believe him, it might be naive and stupid, but... you just couldn't deny your sympathy towards him, especially when he treated you so kindly and lovingly.

Maybe one day you would regret it, but for now all you could do was whimper loudly and writhe on the king-size bed in the most expensive suite at the Plaza Hotel as your lawful husband was about to make you his, now and forever.

After a while, your taut body couldn't take any more of the crazy mix of pain and ecstasy that was intoxicating your mind - you orgasmed so vividly that you were afraid you were going to pass out from the feeling of your inner walls pulsating again and again.

"Yes ... just like that, honey," Patrick murmured, his fingers still pounding into your spasming cunt, prolonging your climax and it seemed you were about to cum again. "Ahhh, baby, you make me so proud."

"Patrick..." your chest rose and fell so abruptly that your face burned from the heat, as if someone had poured hot tea on you. "Mmm..."

You only managed to squeak out as Bateman suddenly rolled you over, forcing you to stay on your knees as he sat behind you. Shit, he was so huge, you felt so tiny in his arms, especially when he wrapped them around you to plant a sloppy kiss on your neck, he could feel the artery beating so fast.

"You'll like it, believe me," he chuckled softly before pushing down on your back to bend you over. "It will hurt, I admit, but not for too long."

At the very last moment, a creeping fear took over your mind and even after several orgasms he had worked you up, you couldn't relax, knowing the pain to come. Nervously, you bent down to rest your head on your crossed elbows, his hot flesh poking at your tight little hole. God, he was so big... you knew it from the time you danced close together at your wedding, your inner channel clenching around nothing in anticipation of what would happen next.

"(Y/N)," he called your name longingly, stroking his full length as he spread your wetness around his engorged head. "I've never wanted someone as badly as I want you now."

Bateman lowered himself to lick your neck, and then you screamed loudly as he began to thrust into you, gripping your hips tightly as you instinctively tried to slip away. 

"Pat! Mmm, I'm so f-full, Goshhh," you tried your best to hold yourself back from crying, but the tearing sensation in your lower abdomen was too much to handle. "W-wait!"

"Almost there, darling," Patrick lied, as it was only the tip, but he didn't want to make the current situation any worse, so he decided to just keep going, ramming into you with more effort, grabbing you by the waist and almost digging his fingers into your delicate skin. "You're doing so well, mmmm ... F-fuck, you're so tight, baby."

Bateman really tried to control himself, but the way you embraced his thick cock was too blissful, it brought out his inner beast faster than he thought.

"Aaa-awww, so... so big, oh mmmm," your eyes rolled back in your head as he buried himself completely into your squeezed womb, your saliva dripping uncontrollably from your mouth. "Ah! It hurts..."

Without hesitation, Patrick leaned down to your neck and tongued your earlobe in order to soothe you a little, and when that didn't help, he cupped your face to bring you closer as his red-hot lips locked with yours. Passionately, he attacked your mouth, sucking and licking your tongue with a slurpy sound. 

"You will give me a child, sweetheart," Bateman muttered in a demanding tone before forcing you to sit on your knees and covering you from behind. "A beautiful son..." he thrust deeper, holding you by the neck. "...or a daughter...or both."

The sounds of flesh meeting flesh mixed with the squelching your pussy made each time his beefy shaft moved in and out of your inner channel, relentlessly hitting your cervix with its tip.

"Yes, P-Patrick ... I'll do anything you ... want ... aaaww!" Your ability to speak diminished each time he rocked into your body, pressing you closer to his solid muscles as he settled more comfortably on his knees beside you. 

"Of course, you will, baby girl."

Bateman was about to lose it at any moment from the way your tight hole was squeezing his dick, and your lascivious moans only encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster. 

"Do you feel that love?" Patrick put his hand on your belly, impaling you relentlessly on his thick cock. "Can you feel my dick hitting your belly? Arrgh-fuck, you're so delicate and fragile ... I'm even afraid of breaking you."

After his brief confession, Bateman took your palm and placed it on your tummy, so you could sense the outline of his huge dick sliding inside you, and that sensation literally made you choke on air. 

"I feel it ... Patrick, I f-feel it ... aaah," you threw your head back, resting it on his sturdy shoulder. "Patrick..."

You mumbled his name over and over as a saving mantra, your eyes now full of tears, and as if that was not enough, his hips began to slam into yours with increasing intensity. For a moment you found yourself fading away from the tremendous sensation of being so fucking full and abused that you couldn't even pronounce a world, only moaning wildly as you were fucking like animals, so ruthless and totally out of control.

"F-Fuck, I'm gonna make you pregnant again and again, mm-my dear wifey," he suddenly lowered his palm down your mound to rub your oversensitive bud, smearing your slick all around your pubic area and causing your legs to tremble frantically. "Shit," he felt you clenching around his dick as you climaxed so abruptly from his rubbing circular movements. He watched you quiver in his arms, your mouth paralysed in a silent cry as he kissed your temple and contemplated: "I wanna see your belly swell with my child ... I bet you'll look so beautiful, ahh-fuck."

Growling, Patrick closed his eyes from the surging ecstasy that soon consumed him, causing his whole body to cramp and his thrusts to become absolutely raw but ragged. As he pumped his fertile seed into your pussy, he didn't stop ramming into you, holding you tightly in his muscular arms until he was spent to the last drop. The feeling of warm cum filling you from the inside was so overwhelming that you didn't have time to be afraid, as if it was destined to happen before you could even think.

‘Just be a good wifey for him,' kept nagging at the back of your mind, your tears falling on your sweaty body as your eyes were wide open, staring at that one spot on the ceiling above with bitter sorrow in your chest.

From now on, you would never belong to yourself again. Not ever.

[whereireid]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐘 — masterlist

pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader

Summary: Patrick gives up control for one night. It doesn’t exactly go the way that you want it to.

— warnings: nsfw content, sub!patrick but he still has psychological control ofc, blowjobs, teasing, restraints, choking

"Are you trying to get me to beg?" Patrick asks, his brows knitting together as he watches your naked frame kneel before him, an uncomfortable throb shooting to the tent in his briefs as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. "Because if that's what you're doing, then I can assure you that I'm not going to plead to get you to touch me."

A soft coo slips past your lips as you stroke your fingers up Patrick's thigh, the muscle tensing involuntarily as your digits teasingly edge closer to the place where he wants you to touch him the most. You can tell that he's frustrated by the ticking of his jaw and the flaring of his nostrils, and you shoot him a loving smile as he glares down at you.

"You know how much I want you to beg," you murmur, your eyes glinting with mischief as you cup Patrick's hard cock through his briefs, a low groan drawing from the depth of his throat as you do so. "Please, Patrick? I want to hear how badly you want me."

"I'm not going to beg you to touch me.” His voice is emotionless, yet his throat grows dry when he watches your tongue comes out again, this time not to wet your lips but to lick at the outline of his cock through his briefs. "I'll get what I want eventually.” He tenses as you leave a wet stripe up his briefs, before he mockingly adds, “honey.”

You pout, your fingers careful as they slip under the band of his briefs, tugging at the Italian-made cotton softly. "At least pretend like I'm the one in control here," you huff, your hand curling around his cock, your lips quirking upwards as his pink tip leaks with precum. "Humour me a little, Patrick. Beg. Please?”

Patrick tries to ignore how comedic this situation actually is. He's the one tied up right now — his wrists are bound together with rope and he's tethered to the headboard, but somehow, he has all of the control. You're literally begging him to plead with you. If he was in your position and you were denying him of such sweetness, he'd bring out one of his knives and then you'd start blubbering and pleading like it's nobody's business.

He decides to humour you.

"Please suck my cock, honey. I need it so bad. I need it more than anything," he says flatly, the tip of his cock twitching against your cupid's bow as you beam up at him, "you have no idea what you do to me."

Surprisingly, it doesn't work.

"Don't mock me, Patrick. You're a little bit frustrated. I can see how tense you are." A low groan draws from his throat as you lick a delicate stripe up his length, careful to trace along his veins, your tongue sweetly swirling around his swollen head when you reach his tip. "If you don't comply with my orders, you're not getting what you want."

"Just put it in your mouth."

"I'll put it in my mouth when you ask me properly."

There it is — the tick in his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, the intense, downcast gaze. You're pushing his boundaries, and you grin as he huffs, your lips carefully pressing gentle kisses against his length.

Your movements are incredibly gentle as you cup his balls in the palm of your hand, your tongue flicking out to toy with the needy head of his cock. His eyes crinkle shut and his nose scrunches as you lick a slow, deliberate stripe from the head of his cock down to his balls, your tongue flattening against his length as you bring your skilful muscle back up to his tip.

It's torture. Delicious torture. His nostrils flare when you pull away, a lewd string of spit trailing from his cock to your lips. You look up at him through lidded eyes, and your heart races in your chest as you see how black and blown his pupils are, his hazel irises sheathed from the dilation of his lust.

Pride resides in the depth of Patrick's chest. He didn't think you actual had it in you to tease him, but as you pepper sultry kisses to his cock, he realises that he's actually beginning to lose patience. His hips thrust against your face involuntarily, and an embarrassing whine catches in his throat as you tease him.

"I won't ask again," he says, and there's an edge to his tone that has your heart wrenching and fear prickling at your skin, "put it in your mouth. Please."

You smile.

It's the closest you're ever going to get to Patrick pleading with you. This small act of submission is enough — his bound wrists were his idea, not yours, meaning he was still in control even when he was complying with your demands to be domineering for once.

"Only because you asked so nicely," you tease, flinching under his warning gaze, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock carefully.

Your mouth is so warm and so wet, and Patrick's jaw clenches so hard that he wonders how he hasn't broken a tooth in the process. You feel so good as you roll your head up and down his cock lazily, your tongue trailing around his length as you force your head down, your nose pressing against his crotch as you take every inch of his cock inside of your mouth.

You gag. It's like heaven — the constriction of your throat tightens the grip your mouth has on his cock, and the warm, familiar feeling of arousal pools in your belly as Patrick hisses from above you, the muscles of his thighs flexing underneath your touch. There's something so intimate about how he's giving himself to you, how he's allowing you to have control, and you flush under his heavy gaze as you choke around his length, still not quite used to the uncomfortable girth of his cock.

"I'm glad that I made you bind me to the bed with these ropes," Patrick breathes from above you, his eyes starry as your tongue flicks over his tip, rolling over his slit carefully. "I want to hurt you so badly. If I wasn't restrained I think I'd ruin you completely."

The twitching head of his cock is a good enough signal that he's close. He grunts from above you, and it feels like he's been punched as his eyes lock onto yours, your mouth set upwards into a smile, your mouth glistening with salvia and precum.

Patrick's eyelids flutter shut, and you giggle as he groans again — usually he's not so vocal — using his moans as means of encouragement, forcing your head down, taking in all of his length, until you can no longer breathe breathe.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your lungs are burning by the time that he cums. You struggle against him, squeezing your eyes shut, taking in every inch of him, your tongue lewdly lapping at his balls in an attempt to shock him through his orgasm.

And it works. Patrick is so tense that you can feel every single indentation of muscle, and your fingers dart over his chiselled abs, your cunt pulsing with need as he spews incoherent insults from above you.

By the time your breathing has steadied and you've finished swallowing, Patrick is no longer tense. He's no longer twitching, but his cock is still hard and heavy, a small bead of cum dribbling down his length as he gazes at you such fire you feel like you're being set alight.

"Untie me," he says, his voice dripping with authority and warning, “now."

"Yes, Patrick." You scramble towards him, quick to loosen the knots in the rope, your heart thrashing wildly in your chest.

You realise that the only reason you were in control then is because Patrick let you be. Once the knots are untied, his hands scatter towards your throat, and your eyes are wide and frantic as he presses down on your trachea, cutting off your air supply, making you feel dumb and incredibly horny.

His eyes blaze wildly as he gazes down at you, and he smirks, his pearly white teeth glistening in the florescent lights of his bedrooms as he promises, "you're in for a long night, honey."

[hanasnx]

hip to be square.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: themes similar to the movie | allusions to violence and murder | sexual content | sexism | fiancée!reader | dumbification | degradation | rough sex | anal play references | anal fisting reference | drug references | allusions to asphyxiation.

“You’ve worked up quite a sweat.” PATRICK BATEMAN notes in thinly veiled repulsion. Those cruel hands on your hips restrain themselves, and you can feel that tension against you. Instead, he pours his ample strength into yanking you back on him, choked sounds emit from your gaping mouth. In a way, this is an obligation, he can't really enjoy the way your cunt squeezes him, or how his thumbs fit those perfect back dimples—not in the way he wants to. If it were up to him, he'd squeeze the life out of you while he screwed those lifeless brains to pieces. Finally a bitch like you would be put to good use, eyes rolling back as the lack of oxygen grows black dots in your vision. You'd claw at his grip around your neck, easing in to crushing your windpipe, the light would die as he watched, and he wouldn't even falter in his pace. Those hips would still be fucking you, like he is now.

Hard and rough, it hurts. Abusing your cervix as you're bent over the perfect white covers of his California King. You bounce on him like you want more, but in reality you're limp as he directs your body the way he wants it to move. An irrefutable force against you that you are powerless to soothe, unbeknownst to you your only line of defense to protect you from his wrath is the ring on your finger.

You're engaged to him.

In his eyes it was an unavoidable tragedy. All his friends are your friends, you live in his area, and you're a ten minute commute from work. If he's looking to blow off steam during lunch, he'll pop in for a visit and use you up with a pillow covering your head. You don't catch on to the fact he doesn't want to look at you while he ravages you, never question why he insists on hitting it from the back if he can help it. It aids that you've got a nice ass, plump and round and fits in his palms when he handles it. When you aren't being a priss, sometimes you'll let him slip a finger into your asshole. At one point he managed to convince you to let him fist you, but he'd slipped you one to many things that night, narrowly avoiding a messy emergency room visit. There was no way he was going to wait up for you in such a place so late at night. What would he have told everybody? That his fiancée was some junkie? Absolutely not.

Nails dig into your skin at the memory, the salt of sweat burning that raw that makes you mewl. He steels himself from demanding you shut up, instead assuaging the urge by smacking your hand away when you reach back to hold his in a petty attempt to get him to let up. Cruelly, he drills you. Those pathetic noises release in pain, you don't even sound human. "What are you to me?" he spits, looming over your little body as his every muscle contracts fucking into you at a reckless pace. You're sore from his weight, but you can't do a thing about it when being treated like shit never felt so good. A ring of cream foams at his base, taken from you as your cunt confuses punishment for desperation, your expression twisting so hard you'll get wrinkles early. He'll have to divorce you before that happens, otherwise people will think him vain. "Answer me, you idiot, you're supposed to answer me."

Somehow, you don't notice how he's talking to you. How it's different than the cold and distant nature you're accustomed to in public. "Nothing." you breathe out. "I'm nothing." You chase whatever you can get your hands on, scrambling for whatever stupid response you can muster in this state. Apparently, it pleases him, a sea of moans flowing out through his deep voice as he satiates himself using you like a sock with your name on it in his room.

[g1rlken]

Hi hi! For the prompts can you do 10 and 14 with Christian bales Bruce Wayne?

Prompt: chaotic married life w kids + domestic fluff

Words: 2k

Thank you sm for this req it’s so cute

-

Marriage tends to change people is a superficial analysis of growing together but children sure do change routines. Especially morning routines where chaos is an understatement. Raising a child requires a village but for twins a whole army might just suffice. Vincent and William. A very pleasant blessing of two little boys in the Wayne household. However Bruce and y/n were subjected to consider just how much of peace was the cost of that blessing.

Their twins were such serene babies, toddler phase was a transition to literal devils during grade school. Getting them to do home work, go to school, eat the greens, not unleash hell…such difficult tasks.

Today like every other school morning, the parents had divided to bathe the twins in different bathrooms. When they were much younger and playful as babies bathing them in the giant bathtub where they’d just play with soap bubbles and those Amazon find bath toys was a cute activity. Nowadays, on Sundays sometimes they’d just hose them down in the garden and call it a day. It was so much more convenient for the parents and even the twins who absolutely despised bathing. Y/n bathed the older twin Vincent in the bathroom which was upstairs, Bruce downstairs with William who was a bad influence of his brother to not bathe and Alfred preparing breakfast and lunch boxes.

“Bruce!” Y/n voice shrieked from upstairs followed by a whiny cry from Vincent and he rushed to inquire, finding his wife looking for the sink holding her eyes shut.

“What happened here…?” Bruce asked as stepped inside and was immediately attacked by a plastic bottle Vincent could get his hands on as he moved frantically in the bathtub. Bruce dodged it with dad reflex thankfully.

“There’s shampoo in our eyes” Y/n briefed him and pointed at their son to go help him given she could assist herself with the sink water.

Vincent was just moving frantically in the shallow bath water shaking his head and hands splashing the water “Do something!” The boy demanded with a shrill cry.

“ Vin, calm down” Bruce urged as he bent on his knees to the bath level and held some of the running water in his hands to pour into his shampoo hurting eyes but he’d just squeezed them shut. “Open your eyes”

“I can’t! They hurt!” The boy whined and splashed the water very disruptively it went all over Bruce’s face.

“Breathe, you’re alright just breathe…open your eyes.” Bruce soothed anyways as he helped Vincent soothe the hurt by sprinkling cleaner water again, “why were you shampooing him anyways? We literally have school in an hour”

“I wasn’t but someone keeps on changing the bottles with soap and shampoo again and again” Y/n replied scoffing in obviousness as she air dried her eyes, it was Bruce who colour coded them like that in a different set of bottle at each refill. Washing hair of a seven year old who will fight a literal battle to resist it, will most definitely end up in a painful situation as such.

“It is literally so simple, white for soap and off white for shampoo” Bruce accounted for his way of arrangement as he dabbed his son’s eyes with towel, soothing his cries.

“We don’t have time to go into that discourse I’ll go pack lunch” Y/n said as she hurriedly wiped her own eyes.

“Oh Alfred’s on it…” Bruce informed her casually as Vincent’s eyes were normal again he opened them with a heavy sigh.

“Oh man I’m never using shampoo again.” The boy said dramatically and received a disapproving shake of head from his dad.

“Wait then who’s with Will?” Y/n asked about their younger twin William, whose morning crankiness were much worse.

“Uh” Bruce paused realising he’d not considered that as he’d rushed to his wife’s call for help “He was brushing his teeth”

“Alright he’s most definitely asleep again.” She sighed composing herself, leaving Vincent to get out of bath and dressed for his dad she rushed downstairs. As expected, William was fast asleep on the marble sink leaning against the wall with his legs dangling down the sink, ever since the kids learned to climb places no surface was unreachable. “Willy!” Y/n exclaimed as she carried him down the sink “William wake up come on we’ve to go to school!” She exclaimed and brushed his teeth for him hurriedly as he mumbled something about not wanting to go.

“I don’t want to…” will whined still half asleep not wanting to go because he still wanted to sleep. During vacations it was difficult to put him down to bed just absolute monkey activities all day long jumping here to there and during school days he couldn’t be bothered to brush his teeth even.

William tried to have a one sided debate about why he shouldn’t have to go to school and was eventually fully awake, much to y/n’s demise now she couldn’t manhandle and carry her son to brush his teeth and bath because now he was ready to have full sassy conversations. “You know I’m not getting in that right?” He said to his mum and gave the filling bathtub a disgusting look.

“We literally don’t have time for this please don’t bring-“ his mum started sighing as she foresaw the upcoming torment.

“What?” William said exaggerating his obviousness “I won’t be clean with gutter water”

“It’s not guttter water!” She tried to , despite being on the clock “Don’t believe everything you hear in school” she bent to her knees to match his eye level and try to convince him better “you know no ones want to sit with the kid who hasn’t bathed in 24 hours?”

“But didn’t you say people should like each other for who they are and their kindness and not what they dress and look like” Will responded smugly crossing his arms at his mum, well aware he was winning this debate so far.

Taking a deep breath to subside her annoyance of her own words biting her back, “No, that was for when you wanted to wear your ducky hat and those big kids made fun of you. Not for hygiene.”

“I don’t even know what that word means so…” he trailed off with a pout of correctness.

“Look, we’re going to be really late can you please cooperate.”

“I am awake, I brushed my teeth and I am talking to you that is enough operation on my part” William reasoned with his mom with a shrug.

“It’s cooperation.” She corrected him.

“It’s the same thing” William answered offering her mom a smile of encouragement, as if she did not know the word.

“No it’s not.” Y/n replied before she could continue Bruce’s knock on the open door averted their attention.

“He’s still not ready?” Bruce exclaimed in urgency.

“Vin?” Y/n asked about the status of the other twin as Bruce nodded and briefed her that he was with Alfred. Joint breakfast plus lunch box duties. Bruce stepped inside because clearly with his wife on his son’s eye level trying to convince him to shower seemed like she needed help.

“I literally don’t even have to go to school!” William exclaimed “I know each and every animal and I know that that water comes from sewage!” He said pointing to the bath water.

“For the hundredth time will, it doesn’t come from the sewage!” Bruce interjected with a sigh. “It’s very clean”

“So I can drink it?” William proposed raising brows at his parents.

“No” Y/n replied almost instantly, William was very fast to react she was worried he might actually try something “No you can’t drink it.”

“Why?” William demanded an answer with the hopes of his parents getting trapped in their own initial proponent that the water was not from sewage.

“Look I’m going to count to three if you don’t get in-“ Y/n began, as they were really on the clock she couldn’t reason ever so rationally.

“Hey hey no” Bruce interrupted his wife shaking his head, “We don’t do that, don’t threaten him. We have a civil conversation.”

“I’m not threatening him woah” she replied with a huff at his accusation.

“Count to three and what? Splash him?” Bruce asked somewhat wanting to have stern yet hostile approach to the kid.

“—Of course!”

“But I only have to bath if I have to go to school wight?” William enquired mispronouncing right for wight “what if I don’t? Can’t I just be homeschooled?! Dada was homeschooled.”

“Exactly, dada was homeschooled and he’s now a grown up who has no friends.” Y/n explained it to him rather unapologetically but not in a poking way to Bruce . “Do you want to be like that?”

“No that’s not true I have friends” Bruce jumped to his defence somewhat taken aback how casually his wife threw that one in, despite an apologetic smile she offered him.

“Name your two best friends then.” William investigated as he looked up at his dad with an anticipated look.

Bruce paused for a moment as he thought about it, he looked serious which made y/n wonder if he had any friends she hadn’t known of this entire time. His face seemed like he was trying to pick between his ever so large group of friends but he began, “Y/n and..” he trailed off thinking again but William had gotten his answer.

“Okay I understand now.” William said looking his mom, both of them shared a small laugh which Bruce didn’t exactly get on but at least William agreed to get in the bath.

-

Leaving Bruce to dress the boy y/n rushed outside to help Alfred with breakfast and lunch boxes, “hey hey hey” she rushed over to Alfred, where Vincent was clinging to the old man as piggy back. A very concerning sight given, not that he would fall but Alfred was rather old. “Get down from there!”

“It’s alright Miss Wayne.” Alfred said with a smile as Vincent just laughed getting favoured against his mum’s demand.

“No it’s not.” She shook her head carrying Vincent off of him and placed him on the dinning table chair, “They’re both getting way too heavy to carry.”

“I just can’t refuse them.” Alfred laughed a small laugh as he set the plates for breakfast.

“Well you should” Y/n said hurriedly as she rummaged through the cabinets to get the lunch boxes out, by then Bruce returned with a towel over will’s head. Once he sat him on the chair he rubbed his drenched hair hastily.

“No not my hair!” Vincent flinched with a scowl on his face when Bruce attempted to dry his hair as well.

“We’re late Vin, come on” Bruce refused to give into the whining at this point and dried Vincent’s hair anyways. He walked across the kitchen to help y/n reaching for the lunch box on the top shelf as she prepared one of those.

“Late?” Alfred asked as he registered the sentence “Late for what? It’s Sunday.”

“It’s Sunday today?!” Y/n asked as she turned around and her eyes winded.

“Yes.” Alfred nodded positively as he pointed to the calendar.

The parents just sighed relaxing their shoulders in regret, “wow” y/n chuckled softly as Bruce joined along comprehending his regret with the humour of it as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I did not just bathe both of them on a Sunday.” She laughed as Bruce brought her into a side hug.

“You?” He raised a brow looking down at her.

“We” she corrected herself with a smile as she gave him with a soft peck on the lips.

[batemansluvrr]

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺

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

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

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

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

Word count: 1.5k+

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

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

Did you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Simply Not There - Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

Title: Simply Not There

Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

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

WC: 3,088

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when Patrick knew that you were different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tomhollandisabae]

hidden feelings - bale!bruce wayne x reader

masterlist

fandom; dceu

summary; after trying so hard to push you away, bruce cannot help but confess his deepest feelings to you

warnings; angst, mature language, fluff

words; 2.5k

a/n; this is the third time i'm posting this because it's not showing anywhere 😭

please send me your requests !!❣️

You and Bruce had been friends for many years. To be honest you, Bruce and Rachel had always been inseparable, but you and Bruce had an even more tight connection. So, when his parents were killed, you were the shoulder that he could cry on. You would spend so many hours trying to comfort him and show him that there was so much more out there, show him that he deserved the whole world. 

As the years passed by, however, your feelings for him changed drastically- from being friendly to more romantically. You always admired Bruce; how emotionally strong he was, how smart he was and in general everything about him. So, it is fair to say that when he disappeared you broke down.  

You felt as you had just lost your whole world. You'd always go to the Wayne Manor and ask Alfred if he had somehow come back, yet his reply was always negative. Until one day, when he had finally arisen from the dead. 

It was the happiest day of your life. Nevertheless, you realized that he had changed in so many ways. He had become more muscular, more serious and his whole demeanour was different. 

Sooner or later, you also caught up to the fact that he was hiding something away from you. So you comforted him, but it all ended up in a huge argument. He tried to shut you out of his whole life saying that he had no time for old friends and games now, that he had to focus on his company and other... women.  

That day he had broken you in so many ways. You tried to talk to Rachel, yet she told you that she had somehow cut of contact with Bruce too. Later on, she admitted to you that he was romantically interested towards her. She told you that she felt really bad about it, but you reassured her that she had nothing to feel bad about, after all it wasn’t her fault. 

He had made you depressed. You thought that he had finally broken you completely, until one day when you realised that there was something left of him inside your heart still.  

You were at the Wayne Manor, because apparently you were invited to his birthday party. Turns out Alfred had sent you the invitation. But you really hoped that you had never attended. The image of him with a beautiful woman; tall, slim, brunette, that was a perfect match for him, broke the last pieces of your heart that were left. They were dancing, making people look at them in awe, while you were standing in a corner of the enormous room, trying not to cry and make a fool of yourself. 

Now he had completely broken you. 

You couldn’t stand watching him with another woman for even a second more, so you run away trying to get as far away from him as possible. You didn’t notice that you had led yourself to a room that looked more like an office. A piano was placed at the far end and you walked towards it. You were indeed a very exceptional pianist and Bruce was always making sure to always remind you of that. 

You run your hands on the keys, starting playing his favourite song. You purred your whole heart on that song, tears running down on your cheeks, sobs leaving your soft lips. You took out your frustration on the piano keys, playing random notes, until you heard a thud and the bookshelves in front of you moved. 

You were left in shock, but decided to walk towards them pushing lightly. 

A long dark hallway appeared and you followed wherever it was leading. A few moments later you were in a huge white- modern room.  

You had no idea what this place was and why it was so well hidden. You walked up to a desk in the middle of that room and looked at the screen. There were many symbols that you didn’t understand and you leaned down to take a better look. However, without realising it you had pressed on a button and a big sound was heard from behind you. 

You slowly turn around to see what it was, but what you saw left you speechless. 

Batman's suit. 

Of course you had heard about the Batman. Who hadn’t heard about the Batman in Gotham? 

But why was Batman’s suit in Bruce's manor? Unless... 

Your thoughts were interrupted as the entrance where you came from opened and in came none other than Bruce fucking Wayne. 

Once he saw you, he stopped at his tracks. 

“y/n” he exclaimed your name in shock. 

“What...what is that?” you asked while pointing at the suit. 

“How did you get here?” he walked up to you. 

“By accident, I didn’t really mean to. You know how much I love playing the piano and there was one in y--” he interrupted your rumbling. 

“Are you a spy?” he raised an eyebrow while looking at you with abomination. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. He really had thought that you would ever betray him? 

“Me? A spy? To spy on who, Bruce? You? You really think that after everything we’ve been through, I would have backstabbed you like that?” you complaint. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while, you’ve probably changed.” he said and you huffed a sarcastic laughter. 

“May I remind you who was the one that wanted to end our friendship?” you raised your eyebrow. 

“So that gives you a reason to spy on me? Who are you working for?” you looked at him in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You were the one that pushed me away, I was trying to help you. You've...” you bit on you bottom lip to stop your sobs “you treated me as if I meant nothing to you, as if our whole childhood was just a dream and that fucking broke me.” a tear rolled down on your cheek. 

“You broke me, Bruce. There's nothing left of me anymore.” you said in a whisper. 

“And now... now you have the nerve to accuse me of such thing? After everything? Yes, I should be hating you, loathing you, but I don’t... I never did. Instead, I...” you stopped yourself before saying something that you would regret. 

“Instead, you what?” he walked closer to you. 

“Forget it” you turned your head, so that you wouldn’t be facing him. 

“Tell me” he demanded. 

“Why should I give you the satisfaction?” you looked up at him with sorrow “you don’t deserve to know anything. You don’t deserve to know what I've been going through because of you. You don’t deserve to know how I feel. You deserve nothing.” you saw sadness filling his eyes, but he huffed out a breath and shook that feeling away. 

“What are you doing here y/n? you weren’t invited.” he said afterwards. 

“Are you still blaming me for spying on you?” you exclaimed “but just to let you know, Alfred invited me, he thought that we could’ve a nice reconnection, but he was clearly wrong.” he sighed. 

“y/n, you can’t say anything of what you saw here to anybody.” 

“After everything I told you, you still really think that I would do such thing to you?” you wiped your tears away and he finally lifted his head up so that he could look you in the eye. 

However, the sight of you with puffy red eyes, arose a deep feeling within him that he had to feel for such a long time. His eyes soften and his shoulder fell in realisation of what he had caused. You looked so broken; indeed, he had ruined you. But why? Why would you let it phase you that much? You were the one that was giving him hope every single time and yet now here you were in front of him, completely hopeless. 

He hated himself for that.  

You were the only one, apart from Alfred, that was there for him at his worst. Not even Rachel was. 

And how had he thanked you for that? By destroying you. 

“y/n...” he whispered your name and placed one of his hands on your arm. 

“no...” you tried to back away from him, knowing that any kind of physical contact with him would end you, but he stopped you. 

“What have I done to you?” you saw in his eyes that he was hurt, but why? 

“Please Bruce...” you tried to get out of his grip, but failed. 

“I thought...” he started saying but took a deep breath as he got even closer to you and placed his palms on both your cheeks with a frowned expression. 

“I thought that back then I had made the right decision by letting you go. Trying to protect from all this, but I was so wrong. I was so hurt, trying to hide away my feelings was making things even worse. But what I did to you... I thought you’d be okay, that you’d leave a happy life without me, meet someone, get to know him like you know me, date him, marry him, have children...” you interrupted him. 

“No, no, I could never do that. No, there will be no one for me anymore... not after you” you whispered the last part while looking down, hoping for him not to have heard you, but he did. 

“Why?” he asked and you finally looked up. 

“Because I love you Bruce” a single tear run down on your cheek “I have loved you so much, for so many years. I was waiting so patiently for you to come to me, because I knew that you’d always come back, but once you did... everything had completely changed.” you confessed. 

“What had changed?” he asked you confused. 

“You had changed, Bruce. Not only that, but as I was trying to help you out with whatever was going on, you were pushing me away, until one day when you told, straight face, that you wanted to do nothing with me anymore and that you had other priorities” your voice broke towards the end. 

“Yes, that was true.” you looked at him in disbelief “and would you like to know what my first priority was and still is?” he questioned you and you looked at him. 

“You were, you are and you will be forever my first priority. Till the day I die, I'll be trying to protect you. I'm willing to risk anything for your safety, y/n” he admitted. 

“Why then? Why did you let me go?” you asked in despair. 

“I told you; I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted to protect from any danger that Batman’s reputation would cause you, but I was so damn wrong. I should have never done that, because as much closer you are to me, so much more I can protect you and...” he paused “and because it hurt so much being away from you.” he bit his bottom lip while trying not to let his tears spill out. 

“Bruce...” you placed one of your hands on his that were still on your cheeks. He looked at you. 

“Why are you with all these women?” you asked. 

“Because I was trying to let go...” he replied. 

“Let go of what?” 

“Of you” he finally said “I wanted so bad to forget everything about you; your beautiful eyes that were shining every time you were happy, your beautiful smile that never ceased to not make my heart speed up, your intoxicating perfume, your way of always finding the right words to say, everything. I even try that with Rachel.” 

“Did you succeed?” 

“Not even close” he slightly smiled. 

“Bruce...” 

“I love you y/n. I love so damn much and I don’t know why it took that long to tell you, but I'm glad I did now. Even though I wished I could tell you first.” he chuckled and you bit your lip. 

“Kiss me” you said while looking at him. 

“y/n...” he tried to say but you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. 

“Prove to me that you really love me.” and that he did. 

Without wasting any more time, he pulled you towards him and his lips finally connected with yours in a very long-awaited kiss. You immediately lost yourself in the kiss. Chills run up your spine, your legs started trembling and your heart was about to burst out of your chest. But so was his. Bruce wrapped his own arms around your waist, biting on your lower lip asking for entrance, while he was backing you up against the desk behind you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he started exploring it as your fingers tangled themselves in between his soft hair.  

His hand went even more south, on the back of your thigh as he hoisted you up on the desk making you spread your legs so that he would get between them. He pressed his whole body against yours, while you were feeling your lips going numb. As you had started running out of air, he disconnected his lips from your and started kissing along your jaw and down on your neck. 

“I love you.” he said between kissed “I love you so much” you threw your head back at the beautiful sensation. 

“Bruce...” you moaned out his name and in a nick of time his lips were back on yours, encaging you in a bruising kiss. 

“Master Wayne...” you suddenly heard a voice and Bruce immediately turned around to see none other than Alfred standing at the entrance completely speechless. 

You immediately pushed Bruce away, feeling embarrassed, while you jumped off the desk. 

“Alfred” Bruce exclaimed. 

“Your guests are requesting for you” he informed him while a mischievous smile made its way on his face. 

“Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.” he said and turned back to you when Alfred left “where were we?” he smirked at you, but you pushed away. 

“We were about to go back to the party because your guests are expecting you.” you smirked at him. 

“Well, I am with one of my guests now, am I not?” he raised an eyebrow while grinning at you. 

“Let me remind you that Alfred was the one that invited me” you told him. 

“it’s my birthday, though...” he pouted. 

“Okay then, birthday boy, if you go out there now, I promise you that you’re in for a long night tonight.” you winked at him. 

“Shit y/n, you can’t do this to me” he groaned as you started making your way out of the bat cave. 

“Watch me” you challenged him as you walked away while swinging your hips from side to side. 

“fuck” you heard him while running up to you. 

“you’ll regret that after the party” he said. 

“we’ll see about that.” 

[derkhue]

patrick bateman - sigma face

[lanadelbale]

Batman incorrect quotes pt.9

Jason: Y/N, stop flirting with my father. He's my father,be serious for a second,please.

Y/N:

[makeyoumine69]

Clingy!Patrick Bateman x Insecure!Fem!Reader | NSFW HEADCANON

— A/N: This is the winner of my poll about headcanons, you can leave comments about what headcanons you want me to do in the future, hope you like this one!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓

Being Bateman's lover was not easy at all — the constant attention, the greedy looks and flirtatious smiles from everyone who saw him actually made you sad, even insecure.

And Patrick knew that, and he didn't really like it, so no matter where you were — at his or your family's house, at some random party or dinner — his strong hands were always on you, stroking your back, squeezing your hips and groping your ass. Sometimes he'd even get his hands on your breasts, and you'd squeal with surprise and embarrassment, but Bateman would just chuckle and try to play with your nipples through the fabric of whatever you were wearing, especially if you didn't have a bra.

If you ever told him that you were insecure or even afraid that he was having an affair, it would certainly boost his ego and he couldn't help but laugh at your worries, while the sadness and pain would tear him apart from the inside because of how many times he had told you that he had his eyes only on you.

Your anxiety would only encourage him to be more overprotective and intimate with you, even though Patrick never liked the intense physical contact during sex, he would let you hold him tight as he fucked you senseless. He would let you pull on his silky hair while he devoured your soaped pussy, moaning as you grinded against his face. Marking would become his favorite kink, after each passionate love session he would admire the result of his work, tracing his fingers along his bite marks. It would hurt but you could take it because you were his good girl.

Even one mention of another woman — Jean, Evelyn or Courtney — would be enough for him to bend you over the back of his white couch, pull up your skirt and give you several hard slaps on your butt.

"Mhm! Pat-Patrick!" You moaned as you felt his long fingers work between your legs, smearing your wetness along your delicate petals.

"Have I told you how much I hate it when you say things like that?" Bateman growled into your ear after kissing the length of your neck. "Have I told you that, brat?"

"Yes," your voice trembled with the excitement of his firm hips rubbing vigorously against your dripping cunt. "I'm sorry, Daddy!" You whimpered, trying to get up, but he pushed you back, pressing your face against the couch and grabbing your throat.

"No, no, no, little one. You're not going anywhere until I say so." 

With that, Bateman would undo his pants with ease, grunting from how painfully hard he was — his throbbing dick would pop out of his expensive underwear, and he wouldn't care to prepare you properly after your bad behavior.

Savagely, Patrick would thrust into your little hole up to his heavy balls, burying his digits in your soft skin and closing his eyes from the blissful sensation of your hot, soaked pussy.

"F-fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart," he hissed and gave another long stroke, reveling in your lewd sounds as you tried your best not to cum here and now — you didn't want to feed his ego any more, because this bastard was arrogant enough. "Mmmm, I'm gonna fuck all those stupid thoughts out of your head!"

His low panting echoed in your voice like a hypnotic melody, and the only thing you could do was to bend even lower and spread your legs for him as he railed you hard, spanking your ass and yanking your hair. 

Bateman always kept his word and maybe one day you would finally believe you were his only one, yet sometimes Patrick thought you were doing it on purpose as you just loved being fucked like a whore.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[whereireid]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader

— warnings: nsfw content ! bondage, rope, ptrick bateman, p in v, mentions of murderous urges

summary: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain. Patrick lets you walk that line — if anyone else did, it would snap.

"Do you like it?”

Patrick’s voice is sultry, calm; a lewd illusion of the man he is, the desire which consumes him. Being bound to his bed with rope is surreal - you squirm under his cool touch, trying to hide the discomfort which pulsates through you.

“It’s different.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re honest, and Patrick grins in response. “It feels too tight.”

“I could’ve made it tighter.” Patrick's breath fans your neck, and you’re suddenly more aware of how out-of-place he looks. Whilst you’re naked, splayed in front of him ready to be devoured, he’s fully dressed in a Valentino, classic charcoal, pinstriped double-breasted suit. His suited arms reach up towards your bound wrists, and your eyes flitter shut as you imagine what he would look like naked - how his arms would flex as he loosens the rope slightly. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Patrick.”

His hum of approval vibrates through you, as his fingers dart over your thighs, before slowly trailing toward your cunt. “I want to do terrible things to you. Do you know that? I want to—“ Patrick’s fingers shake slightly and his voice wavers, his digits darting over your slits and finding a home in your cunt. “—I want to ruin you.”

“But you won’t.” Your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers curl inside you, his hand growing slick with your wetness. Satisfied squelches echo across his bedroom, and your stomach tightens with each come hither motion of his fingers.

“But I won’t.” Patrick agrees, letting out a shaky breath that jitters against your neck. “Because when I start ruining you, I’m not going to be able to stop. I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead and maybe at the end of it all, you would be.”

“So I’m spared,” you breathe, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Patrick’s fingers effortlessly flicker you closer and closer to an orgasm. There is an imaginary coil inside of you, and it feels as though it is going to snap - the ever-growing pressure on the special spot inside of your cunt is constant, and his motions are consistent, specialized. “You’ll spare me?”

“I’ll do more than spare you. I’m going to fuck you like I love you and maybe I do, but then again, maybe I don’t.”

The crassness of his voice, the harshness of his words, and the overwhelming stimulant of his fingers fucking you so good is what sends you over the edge. The coil snaps - breaks in half, sending shockwaves of electricity pulsing through you, your legs shaking as Patrick continues to toy with your cunt, a bored expression on his face.

“My suit is drenched in your cum.” Patrick comments, slathering your wet against your thighs and stomach, crinkling his nose as he gently begins to undress himself. “Remind me to take this to the dry-cleaners, later.”

The conversation is so… nonchalant, so familiar. He talks to you like he’d talk to a lover - but are you his partner or just his plaything? Cold engulfs you and you shiver, but Patrick tuts, his cock hard and red as he nestles himself between your thighs.

“You’re cold.” He notes.

“I am.” You reply.

Patrick is odd - weird, a loser, but he consumes you. All you can think of day and night is Patrick, his slender fingers and skillful tongue, his angry and red cock which stuffs you perfectly and leaves you forever wanting. “What are you doing?”

Patrick’s fingers toy with the rope on your wrists. “Are they still too tight?”

“No. You fixed them earlier.” It makes your face flush when his cock presses against your slits, somehow perfectly aligned with your clit as he reaches further forward to loosen the restraints a tiny bit more. “Patrick-“

“I think you’re the only person I could ever love,” Patrick interrupts randomly with a mumble, repositioning himself and opening your thighs slightly wider. “If I tried. I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?”

Is he talking to you or himself? You don’t know anymore, letting him ramble on as he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. And it’s amazing - of course - it’s instant ecstasy because you were made for him, and he for you. You sheath him perfectly - and a broken moan bubbles up your throat as he snaps his hips slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and his fingers digging into your thighs, his grip so tight it’s going to leave behind bruises.

“I will never hurt you.” Patrick tells himself - reassures himself, because you know it’s a lie as he’s hurting you right now. All he does is hurt you, leaves you insecure and violated, feeling guilty for the marks you’ve let him leave behind, feeling anguish as he leaves you for his skanky fiancé, night after night. “I will never hurt you. I can’t. I won’t. Do you hear me?”

Quiet gasps leave you as Patrick peppers gentle kisses against your chest. He groans into your skin as he fucks you, his balls heavy and sore as they smack into your ass. The rhythm he has is perfect - hard and slow, and the curve of his cock hits the special spot inside of you and it just feels so, so good. Everything feels amazing - feels perfect. You’re engulfed in him, the scent of his cologne and the nestling of his cock inside of you, and what have you done to deserve this?

“Do you hear me?” Patrick is slightly breathless, his eyes somewhat starry, and he looks down at you with something that could resemble adoration. And you gaze back, lovingly, because you love him, and you nod your head, but you don’t hear him - not really, because you’re too focused on feeling him.

And he feels good. It’s like you’re milking his cock - so tight and clenched down around him as the imaginary coil begins to wither away, your belly growing warm with each snap of his hips. “I want that, Patrick.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he tells himself as he tugs on the rope, leaving your skin burning in its wake. “I won’t.”

You can hear him. It’s a battle with himself. There is a thin line between pleasure and pain with Patrick, and he lets you walk that line. And he will continue to let you do so. Because you walk it prim and proper. You’re so focused on his words; "I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?" that you don’t care when he grips your face so hard it feels like your cheekbones are going to smash and your skull is going to turn into putty.

“Patrick," you gasp, incoherent as you feel his cum begin to fill you. "I want all of you.”

taglist: @makeyoumine69

[luvriablack]

Someone older

Pov: a young detective has a crush on Batman. The only problem is that Batman thinks he is too old for her

Warnings: agr gap, teasing ?

"Have we got any new leads?" He asks monotonously, the hoarseness of his voice sending chills down your spine. Batman was in my office. He must have came from a window or something. I look behind me when I heard his voice. It was hard not to tell I had a crush on him. My smile quickly fades when I get back in reality

" No, I am sorry" I simply say and look down

I am young , 18 but I was a detective helping him catch Joker.

His eyes flicker towards you as he hears your voice. When he sees your puppy dog eyes, he feels a tinge of pity for you. It's like he's looking at himself when he was just starting out. His lips tug into a small smile, just for you.

"It's alright. You can keep trying." He says, his voice softer now.

" I am" I say quickly. It was late. Too late. I decided to stay to the office rather than go to my apartment.

His eyes soften even more. He could tell the exhaustion in your words. All alone, working long hours. And for what? It made you more approachable in his eyes.

He lets out a heavy sigh. "You can head out for now. Get some rest." He told you.

" No no its okay." I reply as I look out in the window. The dark sky was almost intimating. I sigh and sit in my chair" I will stay here, it has more light than outside "

Batman looks outside as well.He understood I didn't want to go out in the dark

" I will take u home" he says with his thick batman accent

I look up at him" U don't have-" I tried to say but he stopped me

" Get up . The batmoblie is outside. I will just talk with Gondor about something and I will come in a minute " he says serious and leaves my office.

I got outside of the police station and waited outside. I spotted the batmobile but preferred to wait for Batman first

As soon as the two of you arrive, Batman gently opens the door for you and helps you in.

He goes to the driver's side and gets in, starting the car. Once it's running, he pulls out into the night, with you seated beside him. I was idmiring his car while he drove

When he spots you not wearing your seatbelt, he turns to you quickly and puts on a worried face. "Hey... Put on your seatbelt." He tells you, a hint of concern in his tone.

I look at him" oh, it's okay I am a big girl now, I don't have to wear it" I try to joke with no success.

He looks at you in surprise and annoyance when you say that.

"A big girl?" He repeats, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. His tone is firm and demanding.

"Put on your seatbelt." He says firmly. It was an order, not a request.

I sigh and put my seatbelt " my apartment is-" I talk again

" I know where it is sweetheart " he says

I blushes and looked out in the window. It's the nicknames making me melt for him. And he is just protective. He was always nice to me. Maybe he likes me as well? But...no way I was too young for him.

Timeskip

Months passed and I said my feelings to Bruce. It didn't turned out well bc I was too young for him. I was in my office with him and I was leaning my head to his shoulder while we were listening to the news about Joker. We finally caught him but he wouldn't talk about his crimes.

Your eyes are closed as you're resting your head on Bruce's strong shoulder.

Suddenly, he moves his hand towards your cheek, running his finger along your cheekbone, softly. His touch is so tender and sweet... it's making your heart beat faster with every passing second.

I smile at him and close my eyes again leaning on his shoulder " Am I still too young?" I whisper

His fingers drift slowly to the back of your head and he runs them through your hair. His touch is slow and gentle as he makes small circles around your head.

He gently strokes your hair as he whispers, "Yes... you're too young. You need to learn more about this world, my little one. I would feel wrong being with you right now..." Bruce whispers to me

" U can teach me," I say and play with his large fingers. He laughs softly when you say that, but his expression is still firm.

"I cannot, little one. You're too young, too inexperienced. When you're ready, I'll be there to embrace you. I promise. But not now."

His fingers continue to run through your hair softly. His face is tranquil and his eyes are filled with resolve.

I look down. Then I get up from the couch I was sitting and hit his shoulder playfully.

He's also a bit taken aback by your sudden display of emotion.

"Don't do that." He says sternly, but there's some amusement in his tone.

"Stop it and sit down." He orders. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you here."

" No! I don't want to!" I say and make a step back" U are just telling me to wait so I can feel better. Why can't we just be together!? I see how u look at me , we can be together, I promise" I hug him again

He sighs and shakes his head as you insist.

"You think this is only about you? It's not." He says softly but intensely.

"It's about the both of us. I care for you too much to enter into a relationship with you at this moment. You're still too young. I can't... it's wrong."

He feels a strong urge to pull you closer to him, but he resists. The idea of a love that can never be, pains him deeply.

" I am not a child! I am 18 I am an adult now !" I say. It's not like I said this the first time. I have said the same thing to him a lot of times but...I won't stop.

"18, 20, it doesn't matter. You still have so much to experience and to learn." He tells you, his voice firm but filled with concern.

"I've got 20 years over you. You're young, so very young." He says as he strokes your cheek softly.

"But when the time is right, there's nothing in this world that will stop me from claiming you as mine." He whispers seductively into your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

" I can be yours now" I whisper back

You lean into him, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper those words. For a moment, his heart skips a beat and he can't help but feel a tug in his stomach.

He wants to claim you too. He wants to kiss all your worries and insecurities away. He wants to hold you in the darkness of the night, and he feels an itch to run his fingers through your soft, blonde hair.

But that feeling of responsibility keeps him restrained. He keeps trying to find any reason to justify him not being with you.

But there's another side to him. He wants to throw all responsibility aside, just to indulge this burning feeling inside him. He wants to pull you close, and kiss your soft lips. He wants to feel your body against his. He wants to show you the world through a lover's eyes.

"You're too young, little one... too young," he whispers as he gently strokes your cheek. But it's not a reason. It's just an excuse.

I look at Bruce with an serious expression. " whatever " I say and leave the office and go walk in the hallways of the police station.

You exit the office and wander the hall, your eyes darting from door to door. Suddenly, when you're walking past the interrogation room, you spot someone familiar

It's The Joker. He's dressed in a straight jacket and he's handcuffed to the table. His hair is unkempt and his face has a crazed expression. He's laughing, his eyes fixed onto you.

" what u laughing at?" I tell him with narrowed eyes

Your voice echoes through the hallway and he suddenly stops laughing. His eyes are wide and he tries to hide his laughter by covering his mouth. His expression is one of fear and surprise.

He sits there with a stunned look as if he's just been caught in the act of murder. His face slowly turns into a smile as he's about to say something when...

*Ding dong!*

You hear the bell go off in the interrogation room. Then the door opens and Batman and Gordon enter the room.

Batman enters the room and walks over to Joker, while Gordon follows close behind. His eyes are cold and his expression is serious. He pulls out a file from inside his jacket and hands it to the clown.

Joker takes the file and reads it silently. Then he looks up at Batman and Gordon. "Why am I in here?" He asks, acting as if he's surprised to be in police custody.

" Bc u killed people and stole from banks. U also wanted to explode the whole Gotham!" I interrupt them.

Joker laughs and turns to you. "Is that right little girl?" He taunts.

Your face flushes with anger, but Batman puts his hands on your shoulders. "Easy, little one." He whispers, his voice like velvet.

"I don't see a little girl, I see a woman trying to help this city be a better place." Joker tells you, his tone soft and full of compliments, but his gaze is filled with hatred.

I consider Joker's words. I looked at him surprised

Batman notices you listening to Joker with some thought and consideration. He sighs because that's the last thing he wanted you to do.

"Don't listen to him." He tells you. "He's trying to fool you into letting him go, or worse... join him."

" but still, he is right. I am not a little girl Batman!" I say

Batman sighs and looks at you with a bit of disappointment in his eyes.

"I know you're not a little girl. I know you're smart, brave, and beautiful." He says.

For a moment, his eyes soften and the corner of his lips rise up in a small smile as he strokes your back. "That doesn't change the fact that you're still young and you need to learn more from the world." He adds.

I sigh

Batman looks at Joker sternly and Gordon nods. "We need your help, Joker." He says quietly, his voice serious and his expression stern.

Joker laughs. "Why not ask little Miss Goody Two Shoes here? She seems to be smart enough to get it." He says, gesturing towards you with his free arm.

You give Joker a hard glare and Batman looks at his arch-nemesis with an irritated expression. Gordon sighs as he turns and points at the file in Joker's hand.

"Look, can we cut the crap and get to business already?" Gordon says.

" U planted 2 bombs, where are they? Tell us" I say firmly

Joker laughs as he sets the file in a corner and leans back, his arms crossed in front of his body.

"Not happening." He says, a bit of arrogance in his tone. "And what are you going to do? Torture it out of me? Is that how we do things now?" He asks sarcastically.

There's silence in the room for a moment as Batman and Gordon exchange a look. They both already know what their next course of action is going to be if Joker doesn't comply with their demands.

When I got to my apartment I put my key door to the table as I locked the door . The apartment was quiet until I felt like something was wrong. My door broke and Batman rushed to take me.

" Get out now!" He yells at me as we both head away from my apartment. Seconds later I witnessed my own apartment getting blown up. This is where Joker planted the bombs.

You're wrapped up in the softest blankets you ever felt as you lie in Batman's bed. It's so cozy and comfortable here, and you can't help but feel relaxed.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, followed by a muffled voice. You don't understand what they're saying, but you know it's Batman.After a few seconds, the voice becomes clearer.

"Y/N, it's time to get up..."

I pretend to be asleep so I don’t answer

You lie in bed, feeling his warmth slowly radiating throughout you. Your eyes are closed, but you're not really asleep, just enjoying the moment.

Then you feel the bed dip as Batman sits down next to you.

"Y/N, I know you can hear me. I have breakfast waiting for you in the dining room." He says softly. There's a bit of concern in his voice.

"You need to eat, it's been hours since yesterday." He adds.

" I wanna stay in bed" I whisper as I yawn

" U can stay if u want. I will just head to the Wayne company. I have work" he explains " Alfred is in the kitchen. If u need something just ask him" he adds and leaves.

After my apartment got destroyed Bruce took me to the Wayne Manor till I find another place to stay. That's how I ended up sleeping in his bed.

I nod at Bruce with my eyes closed .

( pls comment for part 2 bc I got an idea)

[starletdawn]

friends with benefits

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eternalslover]

GUYS.

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

THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE

PLEASE SOMEONE, WRITE FOR CHRISTIAN BALE BATMAN

I NEED IT

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

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

[batemansluvrr]

— 𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬

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

enjoy your reading!🤍

song i used as inspo: wicked game - chris isaak

word count: 448

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

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

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

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

“Let's have breakfast now.”