Tumgik
#patrick bateman headcanon
bateman-whore · 1 day
Text
Patrick Bateman appreciation post…
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
…I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism.
23 notes · View notes
makeyoumine69 · 1 year
Note
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].
Tumblr media Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 24 days
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
6K notes · View notes
whereireid · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
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
Tumblr media
"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."
2K notes · View notes
bluetintcore · 2 years
Text
nsfw alphabet ᥫ᭡ patrick bateman.
synopsis ˒ in which i walk you through the ropes of sex with our favorite psychopath!
pairings ˒ patrick bateman x fem!reader.
warnings ˒ SMUT; pure filth; mentions of murder; mentions of knife and blood play; mentions of bondage; mentions of cheating; mentions of an axe; i think that may be it!
word count ˒ 1,4k
note from me ˒ thats my leg btw ;) creds to gif owner!
Tumblr media
a = aftercare (what he’s like after sex)
first of all, he’s smart and he knows what women want. he knows that they want to be loved and treated after sex, so he’d do just that to keep you whipped. he’d run you a nice bath and he’d even join you if you wanted. he’d wash your hair and body and he’d press loving kisses to your neck while doing so. he’d even carry you back to bed.
b = body part (his favorite body part of his and yours)
patrick is a little overly cocky, he knows he’s attractive. so if we’re being honest he really doesn’t feel he has any flaws, but if he had to choose his favorite body part would probably be his arms. he loves how defined his muscles look, he often finds himself flexing into any mirror he comes in contact with. he’s obsessed with himself.
on you, it’d have to be your thighs. he’s a big thigh guys. he loves how smooth they are and how your muscles flex when you walk; never fails to make him yearn for you. while fucking you, his go to to grab would be your thighs so support him. your thighs are his main hype man ngl.
c = cum (anything to do with cum)
he really likes to cum inside you. he just thinks it’s so warm and comforting. but he’ll honestly cum anywhere you want him to. your face, your belly, thighs, etc. but his all time favorite is inside.
d = dirty secret (a dirty secret of his)
he has 1000% fantasized about murdering you mid sex. like he’d be fucking you and then out of nowhere he’d pull out an axe and go all psycho on you. of course, that’s a secret for a reason. you’d never know that.
e = experienced (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)
oh abso-fucking-lutely. this man is a total fucking womanizer. he knows exactly how to charm and hit all the right spots because he’s hit them many times before on other women.
f = favorite position (goes without saying)
surprisingly, he really enjoys missionary. he likes to look into your eyes so he knows he’s making you feel good; it’s something of a confidence booster for him. but he also really likes giving you back shots. however, he’d be open to trying any position.
g = goofy (is he more serious in the moment? humorous? etc.)
he’s serious. you would never catch this man cracking a joke during intimate times. in fact, if you even cracked a joke he’d probably look at you like you just said the most terrible thing. he doesn’t think sex should equal humor, and he prefers to be serious. and he would like it if you were serious too.
h = hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
i think even before he met you he’d be big on being completely shaved down there. having a ton of hair makes him feel dirty (not that it is). so 99.9% of the time he would keep himself completely smooth.
i = intimacy (how is he during the moment? is he romantic?)
he can be, if he really loved you. most of the time he prefers to keep his mouth shut BUT if you’re lucky he may call you beautiful and tell you how amazing you feel. but that’s on a good day.
j = jerk off (masturbation headcanon)
you know, i don’t see him being the biggest masturbator. if he was horny, he’d come to you. if you didn’t want sex, he’d find someone who did; it’s as simple as that. but don’t be sad, at least you were his first option!
k = kink (one or more of his kinks)
obviously bondage. he’d love having you tied up and helpless as he had his way with you. he’s also into knife play and blood, ironically. as said before, if you weren’t comfortable with this he wouldn’t force you; because he’d find someone else who would.
l = location (favorite places to do the do)
he’d be okay with anywhere in his apartment. his bed, his couch, as long as he’s comfortable he doesn’t really care. to be completely honest, i don’t even think he’d have sex anywhere other than his apartment. anytime the two of you go out it’s always “let’s go back to MY apartment”. guess he just feels more comfortable there.
m = motivation (what turns him on?)
you getting hit on by other men. obviously you can’t help that and he knows it, but it’s the feeling of one upping those men that want you. after all, he’s the one fucking you every night; not them. so anytime you two are out and about if you get hit on he immediately wants sex.
n = no (something he wouldn’t do)
be submissive. during sex he is ALWAYS the dominant one. i feel like being submissive would absolutely obliterate his ego and that would seriously fuck with his head. so, if you’re a switch sorry about your luck because you’re a soon to be permanent sub.
o = oral (preference on giving or receiving, skill, etc)
he prefers receiving but he would never dismiss going down on you. he’s amazing at it, too. however when going down on you he’d never let you finish, he’d have you so close but right before you cum he’d stop and say, “i still have to fuck you.”
p = pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
never in a million years would patrick bateman have slow and sensual sex. he doesn’t like sex if it isn’t his way and that’s rough and fast. MAYBE on your anniversary he’d be soft and sweet but probably not even then.
your relationship with patrick revolves around him let’s be real.
q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
they’re not his favorite. but since he doesn’t go outside of his apartment for sex, he’d never really have to worry about them.
r = risk (is he okay with experimenting? does he take risks?)
as long as it doesn’t completely beat up his ego, he’ll do it for you. it’s the least he can do. surprisingly, as much as he may fantasize about hurting you, he never actually would. he might try spanking, but that’s as far as he’d take it.
s = stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)
he can go about 5-6 rounds throughout the night, 3-5 on a bad day. he usually lasts about 25-30 minutes.
t = toys (does he own toys? how much does he use them? on you or him?)
i don’t really think he’d be a big toy guy, honestly. he’s all about you and him intimacy, not a toy. probably laugh in your face if you brought it up to him. he may use a vibrator on you, but that’d be it.
u = unfair (how much does he like to tease?)
he does tease you, but not for a very long time. he’ll tease you for the first few minutes of being intimate and then he’ll stop and just fuck you. mostly because i think he gets extremely needy too.
v = volume (how loud is he? what kind of noises does he make, etc.)
not a moaner at all. he’s too focused on what he’s doing to put effort into making noises. when he’d cum he’d let out a groan, but other than that he’s mostly silent other then loud pants.
w = wild card (random headcanon)
while he may not be the most vocal person during sex, he loves hearing you talk dirty to him. like tell him how good he feels and how nobody else could ever fuck you this good and he’d be absolutely over the moon. it always got him in a good mood and going.
x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he’s BIG. he’s about 6 inches while he’s soft but 8 when he’s fully hard. it’s pretty thick too, and a long vein runs under the bottom and comes up just on the top of his shaft running over his tip. it’s pretty perfect ngl
y = yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
excruciatingly high. you’re always in constant pain because this man never gives you a break (with your consent ofc). he has to have sex with you at least once a day or he has a hard time functioning. so dramatic patty
z = zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)
he always waits until you fall asleep until he decides to go to bed. it’s kinda creepy, but you never asked about it. so after you go to bed, he’d follow right after you.
4K notes · View notes
ransprang · 9 months
Text
Christian Bale (OOC) x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Y/N and Christian Bale had recently gotten married, and her parents hated that. Christian and Y/N had been super clingy, and, to be honest, they felt he was a bit controlling. He would often ask her to do something, and Y/N would simply comply. Christian and she slept while hugging each other with their noses touching, and it turned out she couldn't sleep without him at all. To the extent that Y/N's parents noticed, the two would get upset even when leaving each other alone for a few hours. Her parents weren't sure, but maybe the main problem was that they were scared he would hurt her.
Recently they all had been invited to a party and y/n was super excited to go. Christian went out to buy her a sexy yet elegant dress of his choice that would make his beautiful wife glow. He gifted her the dress and y/n's eyes sparkled. She tipped toed up to kiss him and Christian wrapped his arms around her, as she melted into them. He deepened the kiss and groaned into her mouth as y/n pushed her chest against him. Christian looked at the clock and decided they both could be late...by alot. He pushed her onto the bed and got on top, he always loved being on top and restraining his little girl. Y/n moaned and tried to push against him but his sheer power turned her on. Y/n wrapped her legs around Christian's waist as he unzipped his pants and letting his thick pink cock free. He rubbed the tip before he slid it into y/n entrance. He began thrusting and as he caught speed he put his veiny hand over y/n neck and said "Say my name", but y/n moaned. He tightened his grip at her defiance, gritted his teeth as he pounded harder "say my name.", y/n looked at him "Christ...Christian". He loosened his grip and caressed her hair as he softened his thrusts "good girl, I like it when you listen to me". Y/n smiles back at him and closes her eyes in pleasure as she could feel his dick inside her as her husbands big arms held her down into place. As Christian neared climax he grunted and laid on top of y/n softly sliding in and out as they both laid chest to chest while he kissed his wife while releasing his warm cum inside of her. Y/n's parents happened to be invited too, as they waited out in the hall for their son in law and daughter to come with them they grew more and more agitated. They were already 30 minutes late, how could Christian be this irresponsible. Suddenly the room's door opened and both of them walked out, y/n was a bit nervous. Christian looks at her and said "head up high for me.." as y/n nodded and walked towards the front gate with pride. The drive was long and quiet as Christian sat with her in the back seat and caressed her hair, she was prettier to him than the view. She was his everything.
The party was lavish with many people, y/n separated from her husband to speak to other people. A while later a smaller group of people formed and a beautiful blonde woman with blue eyes, with the body of Pamela Anderson stood across and remarked "Chris, wanna have sex?", Christian looked visibly confused as y/n ears perked up. "I mean come on you're hot I am hot, lets do it. No one here will tell your silly little wife, I bet she's ugly". Everyone quickly realized that she did not know y/n was his wife and standing right next to her. Y/n's eyes were welling up but she held it together, Christian was visibly enraged with his hands in a fist. "Keep your filthy mouth shut." He said through his teeth, she looked a bit scared but nonchalant "oh please don't get worked up about this you know if you were unmarried you would've done me in seconds". When it came to y/n Christian knew no ethics he lunged forward to hit that woman, as a few of their mutual friends held him back in urgency. Y/n sprinted towards him and held his face "Christian look at me, you're not like this. you're better than this. Lets go". he calmed down at the sight of y/n and let it go instantly.
Christian held her hand tightly and stormed off towards the car holding onto the keys y/n's parents had passed to him. As they walked towards the door, her parents gave him a nasty look which said 'I knew you'd hurt our daughter one way or the other'. Christian disregarded it and as they reached the car opened the door to the back seat and rather aggressively pushed y/n in. He sat next to her and closed the door as he held her by the back of her head and kissed her passionately. He deepened it while pulling her closer and getting on top of her. "y/n let me make love to you", y/n hugged him tightly digging her nails into his back. "I love you Christian" as he made love to her and then calmly waited for her parents to say their goodbyes and drive them back home. She was his and he was hers and no one was to come in between them. Your Batman,
Admin Sav
320 notes · View notes
kausstar · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
CHRISTIAN BALE as PATRICK BATEMAN in american psycho (2000) !
❝ I like dissecting girl. Did you know i’m utterly insane?? ❞
── ★ ★ ★ ──
 2022 ksastar.
please do not save without my permission. if you want to use: find in GIF.
339 notes · View notes
peachyfuck18 · 9 months
Text
I blame @adoredmarigold for this so
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
phntmeii · 8 months
Text
✰ Slashers Thoughts on having kids w/ SO
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“What do you mean? You only need me.” You’re already taking care of them like they are your child.
Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, PostMichael!Corey Cunningham, RZ!Michael Myers
Doesn’t think they’d make a good parent and would rather not. Can be convinced otherwise over time.
Billy Loomis, PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Jason Voorhees, OG!Michael Myers, Patrick Bateman, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair
Is ready to have 16 children on ask. Blatantly is using this as an excuse to get into your pants.
Bo Sinclair, Freddy Krueger, Jennifer Check, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
sl4sh3rsub · 3 months
Text
patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)
Tumblr media
patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions
a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention
if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card
show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him
if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night
his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent
he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation
yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?
he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(
he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm
you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust
after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship
something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask
whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view
patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<
he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)
if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day
your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight
patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone
he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending
he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.
if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3
despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties
you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)
if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera
he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing
patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway
if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock
patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly
patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease
you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare
get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles
while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired
if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear
when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you
he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you
imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries
expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine
although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle
in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity
if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat
whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat
when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick
patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit
it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<
patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(
if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side
you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3
bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom
mtf hcs
patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(
patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>
if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side
patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length
_ _ _ _ _
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
268 notes · View notes
b-00-biez · 1 year
Note
Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe write something along the lines of "slashers with an s/o who thinks they're not enough for them and starts distancing themselves" maybe not that long but something of the sort :) this is my first ever ask so I do apologise if I can't quite get my thought across. :)
Slasher with an S/o that distance themselves
Characters: Bo Sinclair, Patrick Bateman, Brahms heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Ghostface
Bo Sinclair
You were staring at the mirror too long looking at your body
pinching your imperfections and flaws
This has been going on for some time now and bo doesnt really realize it
You locked yourself in the shared room, refused sex and even slightly avoided him when hes around
He was pissed
"Sweetheart come here we need to talk."
With a stern voice he sits you on his lap and embraces you
He asks you what's going on in your lil mind and why have you been avoiding him for the past weeks
You started to tear up and tremble as you tell him you're not good enough for him, that you always mess up and you're not like the girls in his magazines ( yeah i believe he has a stash of magazines hidden like a perv 😭)
He coos at you hugging you tighter as he rocks you on his lap
"Darling, you're all what this big pervert needs, now give me some sugar"
He kissed your cheek lovingly nothing like youd expect from this sly man
Patrick Bateman
This man has girls all over him , flirting with him cause he is absolutely handsome
Although he completely ignores them
You started to feel
insecure
All the girls were hot and corvy and youre you
Well thats what you thought, after a few months you started to distance yourself hoping that maybe he would find someone "better"
One night you wake up to your door ringing nonstop and when you check the peep hole you see your boyfriend standing there with 100 roses, neatly in a bouquet as he was dressed nicely
You opened your door slowly just putting your face out, he noticed you crying cause of your swollen eyelids.
He handed you the flowers and held you which felt like it lasted an hour
"Darling I know you aren't feeling well and I'd like to take you on a little date to show how much i truly love you. Will you accept it?"
He kissed your hand while grabbing gently at your waist
Brahms Heelshire
All he talked about was Greta and how she looked pretty unlike any other
And even after you were in a relationship with him you felt... ignored
You wanted to scream at him how youre here and that shes gone
but instead you neglected your duties as a nanny and locked yourself in your room for more than 3 days
Although you feel eyes watching you through the walls, you didnt care to budge
Until he kicked the door open.
He was tired of you neglecting him as he stared at you in anger
His eyes softened seeing you balled up in your bed sniffling and whimpering
First he thought you were sick as he checked whether you were hurt or not
But when you couldnt stop crying he left leaving you some space then he came back
with a little toy he cherished as a boy
"I'm sorry, I hope you feel better. Heres my toy maybe youll feel better holding it. It worked when i was sad" he said in his childish voice
He gently caressed your head as he repeatedly said in a warm voice "I love you"
Thomas Hewitt
Hoyt made you feel like a piece of shit
Every night and day he would remind you that you were easily replaceable and you're just like a little pet that even if you die. Thomas will find someone else
That was far from what you experienced with Thomas when he holds you gently in his arms something he wouldn't do with any other victim
But nevertheless Hoyt's bullying got the best of you
Even doing chores and even at dinner youd avoid thomas, as you said youd be eating somewhere else or you werent hungry
Hoyt was snickering and scoffing at your petty behavior as he exclaimed to Thomas that he should kill you for not being "family"
Before Thomas could break his brittle neck you stopped him with shaky hands on his shoulder
You marched back up to your shared bedroom and sulk
He would pick up on this newly found behavior as he confronts you when everyone else was asleep
Once you tell hime how you felt he caressed your cheeks looking at you with sad eyes then cuddles you in bed trying his best to comfort you.
Ghostface
He was getting way too close to a girl
Although in his part he was just befriending her to kill her sooner
But thats before you knew your boyfriend's little hobby of his
You would ignore him at school, lunch even ghosting him in text and when he would go to your house you would just lock the door and tell your parents that you werent in the mood to talk to him
One afternoon when your parents were away you were watching the news
The girl he was with was killed that night
Afraid of who might it be thinking it must be someone at your school
You hear the doorbell rang
Seeing a guy in a mask you felt shivers down your spine as you answered the door you heard a familiar voice
"Hey baby, I felt you were a bit jealous so i killed her sooner. So don't be mad at me hm? My eyes and attention are only for you babe."
As he slowly gave you the dead girl's hand and slipped her ring onto yours
1K notes · View notes
bateman-whore · 5 months
Text
Socials I feel like slasher would use.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Michael Myers: Facebook
I feel like he would totally be a Facebook mom lol.
Jason Voorhees: none
I honestly feel like he’d be one of the few that doesn’t use social media. He’d probably at some point had a Google+ account so he could comment on a YouTube video in like 2012.
Billy Loomis: Instagram
He would definitely post random photos from his camera roll and probably dox people on his story.
Stu Macher: MySpace
His profile would be all decorated and cool. Although he would definitely cry to Billy when MySpace “died”.
Patrick Bateman: LinkedIn
Must I say more.
Vincent Sinclair: DeviantArt
He would definitely post his wax sculptures.
Bo Sinclair: TikTok
Three words: truck thirst traps
82 notes · View notes
makeyoumine69 · 8 months
Text
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]💓
Tumblr media Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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!
2K notes · View notes
whereireid · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
"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.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @makeyoumine69
2K notes · View notes
slushpuppi · 9 months
Text
THE WAY PATRICK BATEMAN WOULD...
A Patrick bateman smutty headcannon list
Warnings; American psycho but he's rlly hot. Dub con. He's mean.
Enjoy!
Tumblr media
Patrick bateman would be the kind to force you to video tape yourself masturbating with one of the toys he gifted you, he makes a tape of it just so he could watch it for later.
He's the kind to hate fuck you after you both get into a argument.
Loves to pull hair, bite, smack, and spit. He doesn't care for aftercare. He makes you clean yourself up while he looks at himself on the mirror
Patrick likes to take advantage of you everywhere and anywhere.
He loves to degrade you and humiliate you in bed.
Patrick buys you expensive lingerie just for him to cut it up and make u feel bad!
He likes to guilt trip and manipulate you into having sex with him. He proudly talks about how you are in bed with his co workers
He tries his best to make you cry everytime
Loves to bring a weapon with him to a hook up.
Patrick likes whenever you scream and moan out his name whenever he's fucking into you.
654 notes · View notes
horror102 · 10 months
Text
Un-perfect?
(Patrick Bateman X Fem! Reader)
TW!! Angst, crying, manipulation, abandonment, murder, kissing.
Tumblr media
You look down at your watch, you picked out a necklace for you and Patrick’s hundredth date he assured you, you both should go on.
He ushered you to go and pick out a necklace for he didn’t want to pick the wrong one.
And unexpectedly you found the one you wanted in an instant, it was being showcased and you purchased it, early than Patrick expected.
You walked up to the register, your black heels tapped the marble tills as you strutted toward the counter.
Pulling cash out, and asking how much would it cost, a feisty bill of 230. You paid it off and hurriedly ushered over a taxi.
Awkwardly saying hello and then telling the man your destination, surprisingly he drove fast, after he saw the money in your purse.
You thanked him whilst digging your key out the purse and stepping on the sidewalk.
You pressed your key code and walked up the steps, taking a left to the elevator. As you got in you dialed your floor number. Key in hand.
As it opened, you heels tapped the carpet, sounding more muffled than before. You took a two-step jog towards your door. Pulling your dress down and putting the necklace on.
Sliding the key into the key hole, you turned it with a *click!* stepping instead on the porcelain floor.
“Patrick?”
You coughed, only to hear shuffling. And music, you giggled to yourself wondering what he had in store.
You took of your heels, and walked onto the carpet side, your feet being rested and comforted by the new position and footing. You tip-toed towards the shuffling trying to be sneaky.
Opening the door with a slight creak.
You snatch the door open a wide smile on your face as you yelled “Patrick!” In happiness.
You saw him crouched down in a suit, plastic around his body. His head snapped towards you by the sound of your yelping voice. He stood hurriedly, almost in a panic. Trying to cover water he was hiding with his posture.
“Patrick?”
Your voice coed into his ears, you tilted your head over and he watched as your jaw dropped from what you had seen.
You took two steps back, eyes still wide from shock.
“Dear, honey-”
He spoke, a welcoming head stretched forward.
You let out a petrifying scream, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed your hand pulling you into his chest. A hand over your mouth but slightly tilted so you could breath from your nose.
He whispered
“Calm down,”
Repeatedly whilst giving harsh pressuring kisses on your forehead. His other hand over your chest, monitoring your heartbeat.
He waited until your heartbeat cooled down before he let you go carefully whilst locking the door.
“Listen to me.”
He commanded. Kicking whoever’s body over flat. You gulped in response nodding your head repeatedly.
“You trust me right, you know I would never hurt you?”
You nodded again, lips cracked and dry. From paranoia. You backed yourself into a corner. Eyes full of water threatening to fall. And when they did Patrick let out a sigh.
“Listen, don’t cry. I did this for us. You know I would never do this to hurt you, right?”
You gathered the courage to speak, anger filled in your veins.
“For us, that’s ridiculous! You did this for yourself, you did this for your own nasty desire Patrick. Your cold blooded, your a murderer!”
He, let out another sigh pressing his finger to his lips in a hushing motion, he kicked the body again in annoyance accidentally giving you a glance of the persons face.
“You killed- My only friend Patrick. My God!”
You yelled running towards the body, knees to your chest and hands on theirs.
They were obviously dead though still you put your head on their lifeless chest empathizing.
“See? Look at that. Your all over him my love, how could I resist?! This isn’t my fault, it’s yours.”
You looked up at him in disbelief of him blaming you. And you were overly fed up, you had kept his little secret of killing his coworker.
“My fault, God your heartless Patrick. Your so un-perfect than what you pretend to be.”
He paused. Frozen in his footsteps.
“Un-perfect?”
You hurriedly nodded once again, placing your head on the lifeless corpse chest, muffled cries leaving your lips.
He gripped your by your neck and threw you back, grabbing the body and pushing you out the way. Locking the door and taking the key leaving you there alone.
You shook in the corner of your room. Wondering how much did he lie about? Did he lie about his love? His obsession with you? Did he lie about his vowels at your wedding?
Stuck in shock, and absurd disgrace.
You heard the clicking of the door and your head snapped in it’s direction. He came inside not locking the door behind himself.
Getting on one knee before placing a hand on your face and giving your forehead a little kiss.
“I love you. You know that right?”
Lies, lies, lies, you thought you fist clenched and jaw tightened, you quickly turned your lips away when he went in for a kiss.
“I don’t love you.”
He froze as you let out those words letting out a chuckle.
“Don’t lie to yourself, we love eachother.”
You were done, you were sick and tired of this facade he was strung to put up.
“I don’t love you anymore, I’m tired of these fucking lies Patrick. Go ahead, do it, go ahead and kill me like you did the others. Be the fucking killer you are.”
His jaw clenched in anger, he tightened his grip on your hand. Giving it a soft kiss before saying that he’d be right back unknowingly dropping the key out his pocket. He left the room, and immediately you took notice of the key.
You heard the bathroom door close and you rushed out. Locking the bathroom door, and running outside of the apartment hallways. You heard Patrick thrust and bang at the bathroom door before finally breaking it down.
Yelling and roaring your name, though you were already on the bottom floor barefooted, bout time you heard his thumping footsteps. You made it outside and you ran to a far away pay phone calling the police to the apartment.
You ran to some nearby woman, and told them about your situation. They also called the cops and the police picked you up and let you stay the night at the department.
You were utterly shocked when they came back and said they saw no one there, and Patrick Bateman was no where to be found.
-
Patrick had ran away somewhere, he already planned to start a new life. But whilst he was running from the apartment you struck his mind.
“My wife.”
He mumbled to himself choking on his tears, as he ran at full speed growing lightheaded.
He nibbled on his bottom lip holding back his cries, sure he might’ve lied to you about where he went and what he did. But never, was he love for you wasn’t true. The flashbacks of his vowels flashed his mind.
“Through life and death, I’ll always love you. Between truths and lies. You’ll always have the deepest puncture in my heart.”
518 notes · View notes
Text
Slashers with an alternative s/o
[Charles Lee Ray, Vincent Sinclair, Patrick Bateman, Otis Driftwood] lightly/barely nsfw
☆ Charles Lee Ray/Chucky ☆
Has so much goth potential already with the long dark hair and will 100% take long angsty walks through cemeteries with you.
Makes out with you in his car while listening to music, I think he gives off Ministry/Siouxsie/Alien Sex Fiend vibes
☆ Vincent Sinclair ☆
Again, he’s got the long dark hair and a generally sorrowful, so I think if you got him into goth music he would become fully immersed, in a very sigh-heavy way. I can just picture walking downstairs and seeing him hard at work on a sculpture while listening to The Cure.
[Also Vincent in full goth attire, like I’m thinking doc marten Mary Jane’s and a long black skirt. A lip ring perhaps]
☆ Patrick Bateman ☆
He loves, respects, and is in so much awe of your indifference to/rebellion against conformity. He would find you the most high end clothes and accessories and completely live his fashion dreams vicariously through you (he must get so tired of suits and only suits)
At one point you’ll kiss him and get black lipstick on him and I think seeing the stains on his face would make him question soooo much.
☆ Otis Driftwood ☆
The sheer amount of corpse paint you two would go through is unfathomable, he’d have so much fun doing yours. I’m sure he’d come up with a trademark look for you just so that he would get dozens of attempts to get it perfect, you sitting in his lap while he applies
I think he would start picking victims just for you, keeping an eye out for people your size wearing clothes he knows you’d like.
If it won’t scare you off he would so make you jewelry made of his victims bones to really pop against all the black
135 notes · View notes