Tumgik
#christian bale x reader
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
floralcyanidee · 8 months
Text
ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ
Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)
Tumblr media
When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?
Tumblr media
warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth
word count: 5254
author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.
main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here
MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC
Tumblr media Tumblr media
One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 
You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.
“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”
Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”
“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.
“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.
“Hmm. Alright, then.”
“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.
“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.
You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.
“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.
“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”
“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”
“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”
You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.
“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”
“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.
“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”
“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 
“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.
“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.
“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”
You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 
“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.
“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”
You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”
Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”
“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”
Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”
“And why are you here, exactly?” 
“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”
“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.
“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.
“You better be glad there are people around or-”
“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.
“I’d fucking break you right here.”
“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”
You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”
“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”
Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-
“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.
“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”
“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.
“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”
Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”
You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”
“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.
You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”
If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 
“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”
Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 
“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”
You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.
“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.
“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.
“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.
“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”
Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”
“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”
Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.
“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.
“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”
“What do you think they mean?”
“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”
You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 
“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”
Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”
You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”
“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”
You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 
Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”
Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”
You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 
“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.
“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.
You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 
“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”
“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.
Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”
“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.
Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.
You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.
“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.
You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.
“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.
You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.
“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.
“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.
“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.
Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 
“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.
Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.
You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 
“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”
Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 
“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 
It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 
“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.
“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”
You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 
“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”
You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.
“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”
Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 
“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.
“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.
You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 
“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”
You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.
You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.
“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.
You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.
Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 
“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.
You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.
He doesn’t look at you or respond.
“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.
“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.
“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”
Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”
“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”
You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 
“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.
Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 
“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.
“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 
Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.
“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”
Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 
“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”
Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.
“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”
Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.
“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”
Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 
“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.
Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.
“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”
Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.
“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”
Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.
“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.
Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.
You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.
“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.
“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”
“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.
“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”
You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 
“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.
“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”
“Awesome.”
Tumblr media
taglist:
@sstar-ggirl @cillsmurphs @ldklollord @thecherrycocktail @dunklerkeks1611 @hllywdwhre @ecstaticforus @faelvz @ceruleanrainblues @yongi-lee @baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist @trixie23 @cillianbabe @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles
2K 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
no-mercy-bby · 10 months
Text
Stay
Inspired by @eyeheartboobiez Sugar Daddy!Bruce Wayne Headcanons cause I really enjoyed them😌
Summary: Your sugar daddy, Bruce Wayne, asks you to stay the night and then a bit more. How could you possibly resist his allure.
(Fluff, smut if you imagine it, angst, possessive!Bruce as in he most definitely wants to marry you, I imagined it as Bale!Bruce but pick your poison)
Tumblr media
"You want me to what?" You ask humorously, but not unkindly, as you lean in towards the mirror over the ornate shiny console table. Carefully, you pull your earrings from where they had tangled in your hair. Then you try to wipe the smudges of lipstick off from the skin around your lips where your makeout had grown... messy.
"I'd like you to stay the night," Bruce says smoothly behind you from the armchair in the sitting room, "If you'd like to, of course."
"Well," You start with a smile, your long silk evening gown moving with you as you turn around to face him," What would I get?"
"Anything you'd like, pretty." He replies simply with an easy sly smile playing on his lips. Like it was just so easy for him, as simple as rich people having different rooms for sitting and living, yet were essentially the same. Oh, and if you didn't have a library in your mansion, how appalling! But Bruce was rather charming, which only sweeter his offer even more.
"A pony?" You tease childishly because you could. Especially after one of these elaborate events, listening to all the trivial little things rich people thought was important, you really couldn't help yourself.
"A whole sable full, sweetheart." Bruce promises with a soft chuckle, leaning forward and gesturing for you to come closer.
"I wouldn't mind staying the night, Bruce." You reply sweetly with a smile you couldn't help as you walk closer. His strong hands hold your hips as you lean down towards him, his little smile twisting to a smirk.
Bruce leans up and kisses you, his lips still tasting of sweet champagne despite only nursing the same glass all night. Not to mention, you could taste your lipstick that had rubbed off on his lips. You hum a little at the pressure he was kissing with. It wasn't overbearing but rather insistent. You brace your hands against his sturdy shoulders and break the suction of your mouth from his.
"Bruce, not here-" You start hesitantly, trying to pull your face away more, only for one of Bruce's strong hands to pull you in by holding the back of your neck. You turn your face away, and he starts pecking little kisses all over your cheek, causing you to start giggling.
"Why not here, hm?" Bruce grumbles like a spoiled child and tugs you even closer by his other hand still on your hip. His chin dips down, and he starts kissing at your neck. Bruce's 5 o'clock shadow of scruff scrapes and brushes along, making you gasp a little.
"Because we almost got caught last time in this exact sitting room."
"Alfred is asleep."
"That's exactly what you said last time!"
Bruce chuckles heartily now and drops his forehead to your collarbone as you are practically hovering over his lap. With a knee between his thighs and perched on the edge of the cushion, you shift your weight onto him by boldly straddling his lap.
Now at the same eye level, Bruce nudges his nose lightly against yours as he looks into your eyes.
"I'm sorry, princess, why don't you let me make it up to you? Oh, and you know what," His eyes twinkle with mischief as they glance at your lips," I'll show you the new jacuzzi tub."
"Oh really, Mr. Wayne?" You raise your eyebrows at him and smile cheekily, offhandedly saying," I might never leave now."
Bruce grins bright then, surging forward and kissing you deeply as his muscular arms wrap around you.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Snuggled up against his solid warm chest with silky dark grey sheets embracing you both, you sigh tiredly. His chin is nestled against the crown of your head as his calloused fingers lightly stroke down the side of your body. It was honestly so soothing and relaxing. His touch, his warmth, and especially his smile.
Bruce rarely smiled in public even with you on his arm. It felt good to see under the mask he provided to the public of Gotham. That he wasn't only a shallow millionaire with a silver spoon-
"-I want you to live here." Bruce states aloud, his bare chest rumbling under your ear.
"...you want me to live here? With you?" You ask in confusion, propping yourself onto your elbow to meet his eyes. Bruce nods sincerely, as his hand now strokes along the length of your back, stopping at the small of your back.
"Why?" You now ask him softer because surely he had a good reason.
"So I can protect you, baby."
"Are you saying I can't protect myself??"
"No, that's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I... I really enjoy having you around, and I want to see you every day."
"You really mean that?"
"Yes, sweetheart, you know I do." Bruce reassures you tenderly, and the sweet puppy dog look within his eyes makes you want you cry.
You kiss him, pecking his lips sweetly as your nails scritch his scruff fondly.
"I want to come home to you," Bruce murmurs against your lips, and that was the icing of the cake.
"I'd really love to move in with you, Bruce." You admit, a breath away from his lips now.
"It's settled then, baby." Bruce smiles softly at you before now kissing you soundly. You smile too as you kiss back, and his legs tangle with yours.
You fall asleep on his chest with his arms embracing you. Lulled to sleep by the intimate and cozy feeling of his warm skin to yours... it felt so nice, really nice. You could easily get used to this.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Please like, comment, and reblog! I'd love to hear your feedback!! (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)
1K notes · View notes
remuslovebot · 1 month
Text
Wildest Dreams | BW
pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything
a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list
taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☽☽☽
Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.
You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.
You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.
Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.
Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.
You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.
One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.
“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.
You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.
Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.
“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”
As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.
“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.
You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.
You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.
“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.
“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.
Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.
“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.
He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.
You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.
During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.
You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.
Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.
Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.
You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.
It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.
Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.
From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.
“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”
“Good,” you smiled contently.
383 notes · View notes
mysadcorner · 8 months
Note
Could you write stealing clothing from (Bale) Bruce wayne headcanons please??
Stealing Bruce Wayne's (Bale) Clothes Headcanons
Tumblr media
-Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -
Masterlist Navigation
• Bruce would be speechless if he ever caught you wearing his clothes without telling him beforehand. It would certainly be in a good way, though. It entices him and he approves of it fully, especially if his clothes end up being massively oversized on you due to how large he is and much he works out.
• He would be more than happy for it to happen often, and wouldn’t do anything to stop you. He loves the fact that you’re comfortable enough to wear his clothes, especially as he hasn’t had many people want to be close with him like that in a genuine way. The more you wear his clothes the better.
• Having others see you wearing his clothes wouldn’t bother him in slightest, as long as you aren’t uncomfortable by it. Someone simply being around his home while you wear one of his shirts makes him feel closer to you, and warms him inside knowing that you’re willing to be public about your affection toward him, even if it is just a small simple gesture.
• If Bruce ever felt like he was going through too many of his clothes, or you were simply taking his favourite pieces all the time, he would then buy more to make sure he always had enough around for the both of you. He doesn’t want you to wear his clothes less and if that means having duplicates of his favourite clothes just so you can both wear them then he’s more than fine with that. And it’s not as though he can’t afford to do so.
• Seeing you wear his shirts to bed make things even more intimate, and you probably find them more comfortable than wearing normal nightwear. You can always be sure that his clothes are well made and breathable meaning you won’t feel restricted in them, and due to the size of his shirts they’ll cover you well. Despite him sleeping shirtless most nights, he finds you sleeping in his clothes quite endearing.
• Bruce finds the sight of you wearing his clothes incredibly attractive, and it’ll probably be the cause of him initiating intimacy more often when he has the time to. You’re adorable and sexy at the same time, so depending on whether you want an intimate or relaxing time with him he’ll be more than willing for either.
• He will always encourage you to wear his clothes more often and will even start to consult you about the clothes he buys before he decides on them to see what you think about them and weather you would like to wear them too. He may even go out of his way to wear his clothes for a short period of time before handing them over to you if you prefer to wear them with the smell of him on them, or will let you use his cologne to make the shirts smell more like him when he’s away for a while.
• When you have decided on your favourite pieces of clothes to wear of his, then he’ll start to form emotional attachments to those specific pieces. He becomes associated with you through the clothes you’ve chosen and is reminded of you every time he picks out his clothes for the day by seeing each of those clothing items. If you’re ever separated for a while he’ll take some of these with him as a reminder of you and may even hope to see you wearing them again once he gets back.
531 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 25 days
Text
hip to be square.
Tumblr media
MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: themes similar to the movie | allusions to violence and murder | sexual content | sexism | fiancée!reader | dumbification | degradation | rough sex | anal play references | anal fisting reference | drug references | allusions to asphyxiation.
“You’ve worked up quite a sweat.” PATRICK BATEMAN notes in thinly veiled repulsion. Those cruel hands on your hips restrain themselves, and you can feel that tension against you. Instead, he pours his ample strength into yanking you back on him, choked sounds emit from your gaping mouth. In a way, this is an obligation, he can't really enjoy the way your cunt squeezes him, or how his thumbs fit those perfect back dimples—not in the way he wants to. If it were up to him, he'd squeeze the life out of you while he screwed those lifeless brains to pieces. Finally a bitch like you would be put to good use, eyes rolling back as the lack of oxygen grows black dots in your vision. You'd claw at his grip around your neck, easing in to crushing your windpipe, the light would die as he watched, and he wouldn't even falter in his pace. Those hips would still be fucking you, like he is now.
Hard and rough, it hurts. Abusing your cervix as you're bent over the perfect white covers of his California King. You bounce on him like you want more, but in reality you're limp as he directs your body the way he wants it to move. An irrefutable force against you that you are powerless to soothe, unbeknownst to you your only line of defense to protect you from his wrath is the ring on your finger.
You're engaged to him.
In his eyes it was an unavoidable tragedy. All his friends are your friends, you live in his area, and you're a ten minute commute from work. If he's looking to blow off steam during lunch, he'll pop in for a visit and use you up with a pillow covering your head. You don't catch on to the fact he doesn't want to look at you while he ravages you, never question why he insists on hitting it from the back if he can help it. It aids that you've got a nice ass, plump and round and fits in his palms when he handles it. When you aren't being a priss, sometimes you'll let him slip a finger into your asshole. At one point he managed to convince you to let him fist you, but he'd slipped you one to many things that night, narrowly avoiding a messy emergency room visit. There was no way he was going to wait up for you in such a place so late at night. What would he have told everybody? That his fiancée was some junkie? Absolutely not.
Nails dig into your skin at the memory, the salt of sweat burning that raw that makes you mewl. He steels himself from demanding you shut up, instead assuaging the urge by smacking your hand away when you reach back to hold his in a petty attempt to get him to let up. Cruelly, he drills you. Those pathetic noises release in pain, you don't even sound human. "What are you to me?" he spits, looming over your little body as his every muscle contracts fucking into you at a reckless pace. You're sore from his weight, but you can't do a thing about it when being treated like shit never felt so good. A ring of cream foams at his base, taken from you as your cunt confuses punishment for desperation, your expression twisting so hard you'll get wrinkles early. He'll have to divorce you before that happens, otherwise people will think him vain. "Answer me, you idiot, you're supposed to answer me."
Somehow, you don't notice how he's talking to you. How it's different than the cold and distant nature you're accustomed to in public. "Nothing." you breathe out. "I'm nothing." You chase whatever you can get your hands on, scrambling for whatever stupid response you can muster in this state. Apparently, it pleases him, a sea of moans flowing out through his deep voice as he satiates himself using you like a sock with your name on it in his room.
344 notes · View notes
g1rlken · 25 days
Note
Hi hi! For the prompts can you do 10 and 14 with Christian bales Bruce Wayne?
Prompt: chaotic married life w kids + domestic fluff
Words: 2k
Thank you sm for this req it’s so cute
Tumblr media
-
Marriage tends to change people is a superficial analysis of growing together but children sure do change routines. Especially morning routines where chaos is an understatement. Raising a child requires a village but for twins a whole army might just suffice. Vincent and William. A very pleasant blessing of two little boys in the Wayne household. However Bruce and y/n were subjected to consider just how much of peace was the cost of that blessing.
Their twins were such serene babies, toddler phase was a transition to literal devils during grade school. Getting them to do home work, go to school, eat the greens, not unleash hell…such difficult tasks.
Today like every other school morning, the parents had divided to bathe the twins in different bathrooms. When they were much younger and playful as babies bathing them in the giant bathtub where they’d just play with soap bubbles and those Amazon find bath toys was a cute activity. Nowadays, on Sundays sometimes they’d just hose them down in the garden and call it a day. It was so much more convenient for the parents and even the twins who absolutely despised bathing. Y/n bathed the older twin Vincent in the bathroom which was upstairs, Bruce downstairs with William who was a bad influence of his brother to not bathe and Alfred preparing breakfast and lunch boxes.
“Bruce!” Y/n voice shrieked from upstairs followed by a whiny cry from Vincent and he rushed to inquire, finding his wife looking for the sink holding her eyes shut.
“What happened here…?” Bruce asked as stepped inside and was immediately attacked by a plastic bottle Vincent could get his hands on as he moved frantically in the bathtub. Bruce dodged it with dad reflex thankfully.
“There’s shampoo in our eyes” Y/n briefed him and pointed at their son to go help him given she could assist herself with the sink water.
Vincent was just moving frantically in the shallow bath water shaking his head and hands splashing the water “Do something!” The boy demanded with a shrill cry.
“ Vin, calm down” Bruce urged as he bent on his knees to the bath level and held some of the running water in his hands to pour into his shampoo hurting eyes but he’d just squeezed them shut. “Open your eyes”
“I can’t! They hurt!” The boy whined and splashed the water very disruptively it went all over Bruce’s face.
“Breathe, you’re alright just breathe…open your eyes.” Bruce soothed anyways as he helped Vincent soothe the hurt by sprinkling cleaner water again, “why were you shampooing him anyways? We literally have school in an hour”
“I wasn’t but someone keeps on changing the bottles with soap and shampoo again and again” Y/n replied scoffing in obviousness as she air dried her eyes, it was Bruce who colour coded them like that in a different set of bottle at each refill. Washing hair of a seven year old who will fight a literal battle to resist it, will most definitely end up in a painful situation as such.
“It is literally so simple, white for soap and off white for shampoo” Bruce accounted for his way of arrangement as he dabbed his son’s eyes with towel, soothing his cries.
“We don’t have time to go into that discourse I’ll go pack lunch” Y/n said as she hurriedly wiped her own eyes.
“Oh Alfred’s on it…” Bruce informed her casually as Vincent’s eyes were normal again he opened them with a heavy sigh.
“Oh man I’m never using shampoo again.” The boy said dramatically and received a disapproving shake of head from his dad.
“Wait then who’s with Will?” Y/n asked about their younger twin William, whose morning crankiness were much worse.
“Uh” Bruce paused realising he’d not considered that as he’d rushed to his wife’s call for help “He was brushing his teeth”
“Alright he’s most definitely asleep again.” She sighed composing herself, leaving Vincent to get out of bath and dressed for his dad she rushed downstairs. As expected, William was fast asleep on the marble sink leaning against the wall with his legs dangling down the sink, ever since the kids learned to climb places no surface was unreachable. “Willy!” Y/n exclaimed as she carried him down the sink “William wake up come on we’ve to go to school!” She exclaimed and brushed his teeth for him hurriedly as he mumbled something about not wanting to go.
“I don’t want to…” will whined still half asleep not wanting to go because he still wanted to sleep. During vacations it was difficult to put him down to bed just absolute monkey activities all day long jumping here to there and during school days he couldn’t be bothered to brush his teeth even.
William tried to have a one sided debate about why he shouldn’t have to go to school and was eventually fully awake, much to y/n’s demise now she couldn’t manhandle and carry her son to brush his teeth and bath because now he was ready to have full sassy conversations. “You know I’m not getting in that right?” He said to his mum and gave the filling bathtub a disgusting look.
“We literally don’t have time for this please don’t bring-“ his mum started sighing as she foresaw the upcoming torment.
“What?” William said exaggerating his obviousness “I won’t be clean with gutter water”
“It’s not guttter water!” She tried to , despite being on the clock “Don’t believe everything you hear in school” she bent to her knees to match his eye level and try to convince him better “you know no ones want to sit with the kid who hasn’t bathed in 24 hours?”
“But didn’t you say people should like each other for who they are and their kindness and not what they dress and look like” Will responded smugly crossing his arms at his mum, well aware he was winning this debate so far.
Taking a deep breath to subside her annoyance of her own words biting her back, “No, that was for when you wanted to wear your ducky hat and those big kids made fun of you. Not for hygiene.”
“I don’t even know what that word means so…” he trailed off with a pout of correctness.
“Look, we’re going to be really late can you please cooperate.”
“I am awake, I brushed my teeth and I am talking to you that is enough operation on my part” William reasoned with his mom with a shrug.
“It’s cooperation.” She corrected him.
“It’s the same thing” William answered offering her mom a smile of encouragement, as if she did not know the word.
“No it’s not.” Y/n replied before she could continue Bruce’s knock on the open door averted their attention.
“He’s still not ready?” Bruce exclaimed in urgency.
“Vin?” Y/n asked about the status of the other twin as Bruce nodded and briefed her that he was with Alfred. Joint breakfast plus lunch box duties. Bruce stepped inside because clearly with his wife on his son’s eye level trying to convince him to shower seemed like she needed help.
“I literally don’t even have to go to school!” William exclaimed “I know each and every animal and I know that that water comes from sewage!” He said pointing to the bath water.
“For the hundredth time will, it doesn’t come from the sewage!” Bruce interjected with a sigh. “It’s very clean”
“So I can drink it?” William proposed raising brows at his parents.
“No” Y/n replied almost instantly, William was very fast to react she was worried he might actually try something “No you can’t drink it.”
“Why?” William demanded an answer with the hopes of his parents getting trapped in their own initial proponent that the water was not from sewage.
“Look I’m going to count to three if you don’t get in-“ Y/n began, as they were really on the clock she couldn’t reason ever so rationally.
“Hey hey no” Bruce interrupted his wife shaking his head, “We don’t do that, don’t threaten him. We have a civil conversation.”
“I’m not threatening him woah” she replied with a huff at his accusation.
“Count to three and what? Splash him?” Bruce asked somewhat wanting to have stern yet hostile approach to the kid.
“—Of course!”
“But I only have to bath if I have to go to school wight?” William enquired mispronouncing right for wight “what if I don’t? Can’t I just be homeschooled?! Dada was homeschooled.”
“Exactly, dada was homeschooled and he’s now a grown up who has no friends.” Y/n explained it to him rather unapologetically but not in a poking way to Bruce . “Do you want to be like that?”
“No that’s not true I have friends” Bruce jumped to his defence somewhat taken aback how casually his wife threw that one in, despite an apologetic smile she offered him.
“Name your two best friends then.” William investigated as he looked up at his dad with an anticipated look.
Bruce paused for a moment as he thought about it, he looked serious which made y/n wonder if he had any friends she hadn’t known of this entire time. His face seemed like he was trying to pick between his ever so large group of friends but he began, “Y/n and..” he trailed off thinking again but William had gotten his answer.
“Okay I understand now.” William said looking his mom, both of them shared a small laugh which Bruce didn’t exactly get on but at least William agreed to get in the bath.
-
Leaving Bruce to dress the boy y/n rushed outside to help Alfred with breakfast and lunch boxes, “hey hey hey” she rushed over to Alfred, where Vincent was clinging to the old man as piggy back. A very concerning sight given, not that he would fall but Alfred was rather old. “Get down from there!”
“It’s alright Miss Wayne.” Alfred said with a smile as Vincent just laughed getting favoured against his mum’s demand.
“No it’s not.” She shook her head carrying Vincent off of him and placed him on the dinning table chair, “They’re both getting way too heavy to carry.”
“I just can’t refuse them.” Alfred laughed a small laugh as he set the plates for breakfast.
“Well you should” Y/n said hurriedly as she rummaged through the cabinets to get the lunch boxes out, by then Bruce returned with a towel over will’s head. Once he sat him on the chair he rubbed his drenched hair hastily.
“No not my hair!” Vincent flinched with a scowl on his face when Bruce attempted to dry his hair as well.
“We’re late Vin, come on” Bruce refused to give into the whining at this point and dried Vincent’s hair anyways. He walked across the kitchen to help y/n reaching for the lunch box on the top shelf as she prepared one of those.
“Late?” Alfred asked as he registered the sentence “Late for what? It’s Sunday.”
“It’s Sunday today?!” Y/n asked as she turned around and her eyes winded.
“Yes.” Alfred nodded positively as he pointed to the calendar.
The parents just sighed relaxing their shoulders in regret, “wow” y/n chuckled softly as Bruce joined along comprehending his regret with the humour of it as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I did not just bathe both of them on a Sunday.” She laughed as Bruce brought her into a side hug.
“You?” He raised a brow looking down at her.
“We” she corrected herself with a smile as she gave him with a soft peck on the lips.
217 notes · View notes
ledgerserious8 · 2 months
Text
The Bat Is Sick | Bruce Wayne (Bale) & Reader
Tumblr media
Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing
Genre : Fluff Sickness
Summary : Your boyfriend Bruce is sick and he need you to come back..
Word count : 1.9k
The mission you had made you left Gotham city from two days and suddenly without Bruce knowing it because you made a deal with James Gordon to not tell him
You wanted to try something new because Bruce had always helping you and saving you by his batsuit and mask but you want to be a hero by your own character too
Not just batman sidekick
Alfred was worried about the high temperature of Bruce, Bruce can't help but keep sweating and trying to catch some breath
Alfred left his room and told all the maids about Bruce heath was sick and asking them to "take care of the master"
He was needing for you as his girlfriend to come and put all his pain off and he know you can take care of him too well
Alfred getting outside the Wayne manor and he noticed you walking in the streets as your costume and gloves covering by the snow and a little blood against your mouth
"Ma'am Y/n it's me alfred" - Alfred Called you as walking faster towards you
"Alfred what happened?" - You asked the butler worriedly as trying to enter the Wayne manor
"Master Bruce is getting sick ma'am. He needs you right now" - Alfred explained worriedly
Alfred looked towards Wayne manor then looked back at you as The whole mansion is lit up
"Please hurry up before it's getting worse" he added softly but sadly as looking at you like a father want to help his son
You nodded silently as smiling warmly and you started walking upstairs and forget to even wipe the blood from your mouth because all the matter now is Bruce..
You stopped in your steps and wiped the little blood, Bruce when he get sick he becomes so clingy like a little baby and he want to get all the love that his parents didn't give enough
Your hand knocked the door of his room gently and decided to wait
There's no response but just a huge sound of heavy breath coming from inside but A long and a loud breathing filled the room
You knocking again made the breathing sound stopped as you heard a sudden rustle sound coming from inside
"Come in" - he whispered tirelessly as lying on his big white bed and covers
You opened the door gently and smiled at him warmly but inside your heart you was so worried about him
Bruce's eyes widen as noticed you and without everything can say, that bat forget his sickness by running to you
Bruce wrapped his both strong arms around you so tight and don't want to let go
"I was about losing you" - Bruce whispered softly against your ear
"But you won't" - you replied softly as hugging his big strongly body back
Your presence took out all his pain away from him as He couldn't stop from hugging you tightly as tears filling his eyes was watching you.
He just couldn't help it from all the fear he felt within him
"I missed you so much love" - Bruce whispered softly as pulling you towards his chest gently and cupped your face
"I missed you so much my love" - he added again as kissing the top of your head
"I missed you too more than anything else" you confessed as smiling at him
There's not even a single energy left inside his body
A long sigh left through his mouth then he whispered - "I love you more then everything else"
You hugged him so tightly as The tears slowly dropping off from his eyes as he buried his face on your shoulder and just couldn't even move an inch
He was so tired from all the tension and the long stressful period he had during the last days
The warmth of your body made his whole pain disappear and just relaxed deeply inside your arms and He just can't stop feeling the presence of you breath next to his face
"You were out during last few days. I didn't know if you was okay or not" - The Black haired man whispered to you softly.
"I'm so sorry dear but I really was in mission and James didn't keep his promise" - You explained your side of the story calmly as meaning James told Bruce about your mission and didn't keep it secret
He was holding you hands within his hands now, His eyes kept looking at yours but his head just didn't make an angle up to see your face completely
"I know but I didn't have the right to be in peace without you by my side" he whispered in deep sadness and disappointed in his voice
You know that tone of his voice was because of you, you hide a big mission from your boyfriend that mission was so dangerous and could kill you
Just because you want to try something else and new
You cupped his face and His body starts trembling by you touch towards him again.
Your kisses on his face as apologizes made your presence warm inside his cold body
His hands were caressing your beautiful body gently as your lips continue kissing him on his lips and Your lips was everywhere on his face and he was enjoying every inch of it
"I can't bare your absence from my side love" - he whispered as your lips moves on his face towards his lips again.
Your arms touching his shoulders and your touch on his body was making his breath even heavier as your lips keep kissing his lips
All the pain and all the stress was going away as you kept on caressing his shoulders all over.
He was holding your arms tightly, pressing them tightly and holding it tight around him trying to make you touching him everywhere
"I love you" - he whispered lovingly but happily as you keep on kissing his lips gently like kissing a baby.
"I love you too" - You whispered back between the kiss softly, you can feel him started smiling
Your fingers walked through his hair was making him in a whole different level of happiness
The kissing on his lips was so gentle but passionately that he could spend hours just for this very second without getting bored
Your words towards him kept his heart pumping more and more and his breath heavier and hotter and you started kissing his neck and ear
"Promise me you won't go out from Wayne manor without telling me" - he whispered as he started on enjoying your kiss on his neck
"I promise" - You whispered against his ear making him melting by your voice
His body became soft from the kisses on his neck by your mouth
He tried to keep himself as a tough and strong man but your touch is making him melting into a soft orphan man like a baby
"Promise me you will never disappear from my life" - he asked you again as your hands was caressing the side of his body
The smell of your perfume was so sweet that he gets attracted towards it and wanted to keep you in his arms forever
"I promise on my life" - You replied calmly as stopped and looked into his eyes
It sounded very heavenly when you speak those words towards him
Every inch of his body was shaking by those words of commitment towards you, His heart was pounding very fast now and his chest is rising up and down rapidly
He pulled you head slightly towards him as if he is about to kiss you lips again but he stopped..
Instead he looked deeply into your eyes and asked you - "promise me you will be next to my side forever?"
"I promise, but now The bat is sick and I need to take care of him" - you explained teasingly as smirking charmingly
The words you was saying was getting inside his ears like waves hitting the shore
Your touch over his cheeks was making him feeling the warmness inside him as you keep on caressing his face gently
Your fingers was running through his hair gently and touching his ears slightly
"Take care of me as in how?" - he asked you playfully as he was looking into your eyes and smiling at you.
"Well I have my own ways" - You replied shortly but teasingly
"No, it's not that bad of a temperature" - he explained and his response was with a smiling face
"I'm feeling all fine and good love" - he kept on smiling as he keep on looking at you face.
The truth is he's feeling extremely bad and he is so tired but your touch over his body and face gave him strength and energy once again
Your presence was actually the best medicine for him.
"What you think I'm sick of?" - he asked you curiously and softly
You keep silent but your eyes give him that look who had a words saying "Bruce stop lying"
You was seeing through his weak lie, that's a fact because you knew him very well
He was looking at your eyes while you was giving him a worried look and asking him for the truth
He had a sick look on his face but didn't want to admit it, A long sigh left his mouth and as his face changed from a happy to a sick face
"Okay fine, I'm sick" - he whispered softly as his eyes lowered down to avoid eye contact with you.
"It's okay alfred told me but now let me take care of you" - you explained to him as sitting him on the edge of the bed
The fact that Alfred informed you about the status of his health made him feel little bit better inside
The smile on your face and the warmth of your body is the best thing that could happen to his stressed mind
No matter the amount of pain he feels inside, your touch is the medicine he needed
"How you gonna take care of me?" - he asked with soft voice while he was looking back to your eyes
"As I said I have my own ways" - you replied teasingly as smirking at him
For some unknown reason nobody know but the both of you as the way you was smiling was attracting him towards you
He know what your own ways are but he's waiting to see it happening so he decided to play dumb
He was watching you keep smiling while his eyes was searching all over her body while you was moving around him and getting on his lap
"So you going to take care of me or not?" - Bruce asked you in a playful and a teasing way as his eyes back at yours.
"Of course I will" - You whispered to him as your face was close to his
The way you was making him waiting is building up a lot of tension inside him
The close feeling and the fact that he can sense your breath made him even more attracted towards you as His whole body was craving for a touch
His mouth was also feeling hot from the closeness you was putting him within you.
His whole body is ready to explode with the tension that you're causing all over him
"I don't like waiting my love" - he whispered as he moved his face very close to yours
As soon you moved your lips to meet his, his whole body was shaking with the intensity of his desire towards you
He pulled your body towards him more and tried to hold on to you tightly as you took all his emotions by the kiss
He was enjoying the passion in you kiss and the affection he was getting from it was so intense
He never wanted the kiss to end as he kept on kissing you lips softly but so passionately
The touch of your lips on his lips was so soft that made him felt heaven itself inside his heart
All that stress and pain was melting away instantly as your lips keep touching his
The tension that was being built inside him, is now getting released as his lips is kissing yours.
He was enjoying every second of it while your kisses were going deeper and deeper than he expected
You will take a good care of him and he know it, you will always be ready when..
The Bat Is Sick
210 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
floralcyanide · 1 month
Text
― 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⌯ pairing: bale!bruce wayne / afab!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, nipple play, friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of fear toxin (dcu), no gender affirming language other than anatomy description ⌯ word count: 2.5k ⌯ summary: based on these prompts: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” and “How do you always end up under my blanket?” your best friend bruce wayne has been missing for a while. when he comes back, he has a confession to make. ⌯ author’s note: this took a little while to write because I wanted to write an actual fic for bale!bruce. I hope yall enjoy (:
divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.
Tumblr media
You’re busying yourself by folding laundry, trying your best to get your mind off your best friend Bruce. While his job is very demanding, and he goes away for a while sometimes, he’s never been gone this long. You’re beginning to worry- so much so that you’ve lost sleep and the ability to eat properly. But you know Bruce, and you know he’s resilient. It’s just a matter of time. But, of course, he was presumed dead for years before now, and that will always haunt you. So it’s not entirely irrational of you to worry.
A knock at your apartment door startles you out of your sleepy stupor. You set down the towel you were folding before shuffling to the entrance. You peek through the peephole to see none other than Bruce standing there. You swing the door open, and Bruce immediately wraps his arms around you. You do the same to him, holding him tightly, fearing that this is some hallucination from lack of sleep. Your face is buried in Bruce’s chest, and his scent tells you that this is real and he’s really here with you. 
“Where were you?” you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
It had been quite a few days of radio silence from Bruce. You know he’s Batman, and he keeps you updated on his safety status. But he, of course, doesn’t tell you details of the villains and crimes for your safety. You’re his childhood best friend, so you knew he was Batman before he even told you. The day he told you, you just laughed. “I know, Bruce.” But you were still very concerned about his well-being after trying to approach one of his enemies. 
“One of the guys I was after had a toxin,” Bruce pulls away from you, looking around to ensure no one would hear, “It got to me.”
You furrow your eyebrow, “Come in.”
Bruce enters your apartment, waiting for you to close and lock the door. He shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure of whether or not he should explain the situation at all. But he knows he owes you an explanation. 
“A toxin, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.
“Fear toxin.” Bruce clarifies, “It makes you hear and see the things you fear the most, but they aren’t really there.”
You shudder, “That sounds horrifying. And you said you experienced it? How long did it last?”
“I was out for a few days while Alfred worked with someone to make an antidote. I saw things. Things I didn’t want to.”
You pull away from the door and slowly walk to Bruce, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Bruce looks at you as you stand before him, “No, but I probably should anyway. Considering the things I was seeing.”
You pull the sides of Bruce’s jacket together, holding onto them as you search his eyes. They’re different, and you figure it’s from whatever he experienced from the fear toxin.
“What did you see, Bruce?”
Bruce grimaces with a nervous laugh, “Are you sure you want to know?”
You look at him and nod, still clutching his jacket. 
“I saw you,” Bruce sighs, shaking his head, “Something kept hurting you and killing you over and over. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
You stare up at Bruce with a frown etched on your face at the thought of your best friend feeling helpless. 
“That sounds awful,” you say.
“It just made me think about a lot and realize things I didn’t see before.”
Bruce turns his thoughts over carefully, choosing what exactly to say next. He had always loved you, sure. But Bruce never thought of it as a romantic thing. Not until the fear toxin made him see things and feel things he had never felt or seen before. He wants to protect and care for you so you never have to go through what he saw you go through. Even though it isn’t plausible that you would, Bruce still wants what is best for you because he does love you. A little more now than he did before. You, on the other hand, have always loved Bruce. You've been enthralled with his presence since you were kids playing in the Wayne Manor backyard. Everything he did amazed you, especially now with him helping the people of Gotham. His intelligence, softness, even the cockiness he sometimes lets seep through. Even before, when he was a slightly bratty rich guy, you loved him. Bruce's absence for days has made your feelings for him more intense. With love comes worry and concern.
“And what would that be?” you ask.
Bruce pulls your hands from his jacket, enveloping them in his, “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I love you and will always do anything to protect you.”
“I love you too, Bruce,” you say back, not realizing the total weight of his words.
“No,” he says, “I really do. It’s taken me this long to see, but I do love you. And not like a best friend.”
Your face softens, “Bruce, you don’t mean that-”
“No, I do mean it,” he says, squeezing your hands.
There’s a pregnant pause before Bruce slowly leans down to capture your lips with his in a swift, gentle motion. The world seems to stop around the two of you, the sirens outside quieting and the sound of your washing machine fading away. Bruce lets go of you and cradles your head in his hands, deepening the passionate-turning kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Bruce slips his tongue past your lips, battling yours for dominance, which you gladly let him take. He guides you backward until the base of your spine is pressed against the kitchen counter. Bruce moves his grasp from your hair to your thighs, where he hikes them up around his waist. He smiles into the kiss, and you pick up on it.
“What?” you ask, pulling away briefly.
“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”
You feel a warmth spread along your ears at that confession. Trailing your palms up Bruce’s neck and past his jaw to his cheeks, you stare into his eyes. A smile spreads across his face into slight laughter, to which you mirror. 
“What else have you dreamed of, Bruce?”
“Want me to show you?”
A nod of your head leads to Bruce walking you to your bedroom, still perched on his waist. He gently lies you down on the bed before climbing over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. He lowers himself onto you to kiss you again, his weight on his forearms by your ears. Bruce then moves to your jaw, teasing you with small kisses and nips. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his stubble on your skin, tickling it. Bruce travels down your neck and then down to your torso, where he lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach. You watch with content as he tugs your shirt over his head so he can reach higher to your breasts. You don’t wear a bra when at home, so Bruce has easy access to them. He softly kisses your skin, avoiding the areas you want him most. You open your mouth to joke about it, but before you can say a word, his fingers pinch one of your nipples as he lays his head by the other. Bruce shoves your shirt to your shoulders, resuming his previous position of pressing his cheek to your left breast and toying with the right one with his hand. With a slight movement of his head, Bruce is now suckling your unoccupied bud. Your hips buck into his stomach, and you feel his length growing hard against your leg. Bruce gazes up at you through his lashes, his eyes a little darker than before. Your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in it. 
Bruce tweaks your nipple with his teeth as he rolls the other with his fingers, making electricity jolt through you. A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, your grip on Bruce’s hair tightening briefly. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your breasts before moving down your sternum and stomach, toying with the hem of your sweatpants. Bruce glances up at you to ask for permission, and you nod.
“You can touch me.”
Bruce pulls your sweatpants down, and you kick them off the rest of the way. He bites and licks the skin of your thighs before cupping your clothed heat with his mouth. Bruce flattens his tongue against you, dragging it upward against the cotton material of your underwear. You whine at the contact, wanting something a little more direct. With your hands still in Bruce’s hair, you remove them, moving them to pull down the barrier between you and Bruce’s mouth. He helps you with a knowing smirk. He softly kisses your clit before letting his tongue delve into your wetness, a sharp inhale through your nose letting him know it feels good. You would be lying if you had said you hadn’t thought of this exact moment before. Bruce steadies your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. When the tip of his tongue comes in contact with your bundle of sensitive nerves, you attempt to buck your hips up to no avail. Bruce is incredibly strong, so you had no chance of moving. But he begins to guide your hips up and down, making you ride his tongue on his own accord. You move with what he’ll allow along with his guidance, and pleasure flowers through you. Bruce coaxes a finger into you, the feeling of him exploring you with it making you moan loudly. When he finds your spot, he adds another finger to circle it slowly. You gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud again.
“No,” Bruce shakes head, pulling away from you and stopping his movements, “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”
“Fine,” you exhale, hands clutching the bed sheets.
Bruce resumes pumping his fingers in and out of you while pressing his fingertips to your spot every now and then, eliciting noises from you that you’ve never let out with anyone else. He laps at your clit simultaneously, and he allows you to move your hips freely as he spreads your legs with his free hand. You feel yourself becoming lost in pleasure, your head cloudy and letting out noises without a second thought. Bruce feels you tightening around his fingers, signaling you’re close to release. So, he pulls away from you and sits up on his knees. You wriggle at the loss of his fingers, but he quickly replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. Bruce holds you still with one hand as he drags himself up and down your weeping cunt with the other. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off as Bruce slowly pushes himself inside you. Giving you a moment to adjust, he peels off his own shirt and tosses it before continuing to thrust slowly into you. 
When he’s entirely inside, he notices you taking deep breaths, “All good?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “It’s just been a while.”
That and Bruce is well endowed, so you have to relax fully to take him comfortably. When you finally feel comfortable enough to move, you give your hips an experimental roll. Both you and Bruce groan at the feeling, to which Bruce pulls out a little before pushing back in. 
“Don’t be shy, Bruce,” you joke, “You can go faster.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Bruce smiles deviously down at you.
He picks your legs up and lays them on his shoulders before he begins to pound into you, leaving you gasping for air. You grip Bruce’s biceps, his rhythm is merciless as your bed frame squeaks underneath you. He moves you upward to the pillows so you can rest your head on them and so he can grip the headboard for leverage. Bruce’s hips snap forward rapidly, just as he assured, and he has to put a pillow above your head so it doesn’t slam into the bedframe. Your moans are incoherent at this point, and your eyes are wound shut.
“Look at me, babe,” Bruce says, moving a hand from your thigh to your cheek, bringing you out of your fog.
You open your eyes to gaze into his, Bruce pressing his chest to yours and fucking you at a new angle as he puts his forehead against yours. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouth before finally embracing in a heated kiss. Deciding to switch up the angle, Bruce removes your legs from his shoulders and spreads them apart as far as they go. You howl into the kiss as Bruce hits that spot inside you, driving you crazy. 
“Right there, Bruce,” you manage to stutter, “Right there!”
He hooks his arms under your knees, slamming you against him even harder than before. Bruce presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. You curse, no longer caring if your neighbors hear you or your bed slamming into the wall. Heat builds up in your belly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Bruce, stars flooding your vision. He hits that spot inside you harder than before, sending you over the edge in a snap. Your walls clench around Bruce, causing his orgasm to unfold shortly behind yours. The feeling of him emptying into you coaxes your release to last longer, and Bruce not letting up on your clit adds to the overstimulation. You cry out as another orgasm washes over you, and Bruce hisses from his own overstimulation. He curses under his breath as he pulls out of you, hurrying to your closet for a towel. Bruce cleans the two of you up as you work to bring yourself back to Earth. 
“That,” you say, Bruce hovering over you, “was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” Bruce says, and you both laugh at his cheesiness.
Rolling over to lie next to you, Bruce pulls the blanket on his side of the bed over him, and you do the same. But the ownership of blankets doesn’t last long as you cuddle. You manage to pull Bruce’s blanket over to your side, much like you used to when you were both younger. You had sleepovers a lot, and you’d always somehow end up stealing Bruce’s blanket.
“How do you always end up under my blanket?” Bruce sighs.
You peek at him, opening your closed eyes momentarily before shrugging, stifling a laugh. Bruce pulls your head into his neck before kissing your hair, allowing you to doze off. Even if the things he saw during the toxin’s hold on him were disturbing, at least it allowed him to see things more clearly and find his way to you. 
Tumblr media
374 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
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
remuslovebot · 1 month
Text
“You’re Batman and that’s wonderful. But I love Bruce Wayne more.”
You look into Bruce’s eyes pleadingly, your hands on his chest. You knew Gotham needed Batman but you needed Bruce and he wasn’t here.
Bruce looked down at you intensely. He didn’t want to lose you but he had to protect you. It was bad enough you knew about Batman. If any one of his enemies found out who he actually was, you would be a target. You were Bruce Wayne’s and Batman’s weakness.
He couldn’t stand to loose you.
Bruce whispered your name, “I need to protect Gotham. My city needs me.”
“I need you Bruce,” you said, eyes filling with small tears. “Tell me you need me too.”
Of course he needed you, Bruce thought. But in order to keep you safe and out of harms way he stayed silent.
You played with his tie slightly and looked down at the ground. A teardrop fell to the ground.
“I can’t lie to you. So I’m not going to say anything at all.” He said, his voice just above a whisper.
You looked up at him, “If you don’t say anything I’m going to walk away.” You said.
Bruce didn’t say anything. He was fighting the urge to pull you to him, hold you close and kiss you. But it wasn’t safe to be around him.
You nodded then and let you of your hands on his chest. “Goodbye Bruce.”
You turned around and walked away. Bruce watched you walk away from him and hoped you would find someone who could give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you those things. But Gotham needed him.
348 notes · View notes
batemansluvrr · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺
A/N: Here’s the one-shot, as I said before I’m really sorry for my absence. I didn’t have time to proofread this so, if there are grammar mistakes you know. Enjoy your reading.
Warnings: PLEASE READ! Alcohol addicted reader, cigarettes addicted reader, very demotivated reader, swearing.
Contains: Dark themes at first (Alcohol and Nicotine addiction), but then turns into fluff, Patrick comforts reader and reassures her, smut part at the end but the bare minimum.
Synopsis: When you found out that Patrick has spent the rest of the night with Courtney right after finishing arguing with you, you couldn’t do nothing but soffocate your pain in alcohol and cigarettes.
Word count: 1.5k+
The warmth of the water covered you and you felt.. safe. The warm water hugged your body and it brought back some of the joy you felt when you were with Patrick. Your sadness was still there, deep inside of you, but you weren’t overwhelmed by it. The water was comforting, warm, and peaceful. You closed your eyes and you let your mind drift, you let the past drift away. You let yourself think about Patrick, and all of the fun and happy moments you had together. You missed him, but that was okay.. because.. the water was peaceful.
Or maybe it simply wasn’t the water, but the bottle of whiskey you drank in one sip. The feeling was almost instantaneous, the feeling of joy and relief washed over you. The whiskey was strong, but it was almost a good kind of strong. That was how it feels to be in heaven, and you took all of it you could before the feelings started to fade away. But for the moment it was blissful, your mind was filled with peace and your body.. well, it felt alive. It was perfect and you wanted to keep it. To just hold on to it forever. You drank more, more, more, until you began to feel numb. You couldn’t feel anything. You felt nothing. You felt numb, and the feeling was glorious. Alcohol was always there for you, it didn’t judge you and it wouldn’t never run away. Alcohol was your companion, your friend, your lover, your escape. You drank and you drank and you drank, you couldn’t stop, you wouldn’t have stopped yourself. That was better than feeling anything right? And besides.. When you were with the booze you didn’t feel so alone.
Did you?
The numerous knocks on the door woke you up to reality, opening your eyes. You still didn’t want to see anyone though, that was one of the few moments you had to feel relaxed and you wouldn’t let no one interrupt it.
But you didn’t know that the one at the door was the one you never wanted to see again. Patrick stood at the door, his face filled with rage. He was angry, you didn’t answer his texts and didn’t even call him, he was gone completely crazy and he was trying to make it clear how angry he was. The anger was apparent in his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he stood. He was not happy, not happy at all. He was mad and he wanted your attention, but he didn’t want to force himself inside of your apartment. Instead, he banged on the door and screamed your name. Once you realised it was him, you pretended to not hear him and also pretended to listen to the random music that was playing on tv. Patrick was frustrated and angry, and he wanted a response. He kept standing there, waiting and waiting, he knew that you were in there but he didn’t want to be in that awkward position. "Why weren’t you answering the door? Was it something he said, did he do something to make you angry?" He kept asking himself, but he didn’t know, and he was standing there with an annoyed expression as he waited.
Patrick pounded on the door again, he didn’t care if the neighbors heard him, or if the people in other apartments noticed. He wanted a response, and he was going to keep demanding it. He was standing there with a scowl on his face, clearly frustrated by the whole situation, but he didn’t want to do anything violent. Not for the first five minutes. When you kept drinking, ignoring him completely, Patrick got fed up and he kicked the door in, his eyes filled with rage. He was standing there and with one swift kick, the door flied open and he stood there in the doorway.
"ANSWER ME!" He shouted, the walls rattling under the force of his scream. He looked for you in every single room of your apartment and once he found you in the bathtub, he became even more mad at you. Patrick watched as you ignored his screams and his cries. He didn’t want to yell anymore, but his hands shook with frustration and he was filled with rage, there was fire boiling in his eyes. Patrick just wanted to grab you, to scream at you, to make you understand how angry he was. He wanted to make you understand how much pain you caused him. He wanted to teach you a lesson, and he stomped over to the bathroom and tried to rip the bottle out from your hands. But then, he realised everything. You were hurting yourself, your own soul, that he always used to call "innocent". It was not innocent anymore. The bathtub was full alcoholics and cigarette packs, and the thing that horrified him even more, was that the most of the bottles and packs were already empty or consumed. "You are hurting yourself." Patrick shouted, his voice filled with pain and anger. He couldn’t stand to watch this, to watch you do this to yourself. "You can't keep hurting yourself like this, it has to stop." His eyes wet with pain and his jaw clenched tightly.
"Patrick, go away." After saying the last word you finally decided to met his glance, but the sparkle in your eyes that Patrick always adored wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t capable of feeling a single emotion, or maybe, you refused to feel them. "You're hurting yourself, y/n." Patrick repeated, a little more irritated than before. He looked at you and saw how much pain you were in. How much suffering. He kept watching you, his eyes filled with anger and pain. He wanted you to stop, he needed you to just stop, he couldn’t see you like this. "If you don't stop now, we're done, do you hear me?" He said sternly, Patrick was furious. "You deserve fucking better than this."
Patrick watched as you were smoking a cigarette before taking a long sip of another alcoholic bottle. He knew that he should have done something, and yet he stood there frozen in place. Patrick also knew these thoughts were irrational, but his mind was plagued by them. When he saw you falling into the bath tub, it snaps him out of it. He rushed over and made you stood up in front of his tall figure. The anger and frustration were still pulsing in his veins but he knew that his furious tone wasn’t going to solve anything, he knew that yelling wouldn’t help. Instead he washes you gently, he was caressing your delicate frame with a sponge looking at you as if was trying to decode your reaction. You tried to not look at him as he was washing every single part of your body, even your most intimate zones, but it was different, he wasn’t excited or something, he seemed to care about you, and in fact, he did. He wrapped a towel around your body and then he helped you get out of the tub and walk over towards the bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him as he was exactly in front of you, lowering to your height. "Just tell me why did you do this." Patrick demanded staring at you. Your mouth realised a sigh and your eyes were captured by the floor as you began to speak.
"I saw you with Courtney, that night, after we argued." He immediately stood up right after you admitted that. His eyes widened. "You didn’t think that we had sex, right?" Patrick asked you, hoping that your answer would have been a no. He passed a hand through his hair when you stayed in silence, he was trying to remain calm because he clearly couldn’t believe that.
"Christ y/n, Courtney was drunk. She didn’t want Luis to see her in that state so I told her she could stay at my apartment, even though I was really pissed off." You were still a little shocked but deep inside, a part of you was full of joy and fully reassured by his words. "You two didn’t have sex?" You asked, just to be sure.
"No doll, of course not. I would never." Patrick was smirking, tickling your soft skin of your legs with his long fingers. "Can't believe you really thought I cheated on you.." With the other hand he started touching your hair, you wanted that moment to last forever. He kept that clever smile on his face that intrigued you more, but then, his glance moved to your seductive lips and Patrick realised he couldn’t resist anymore. After almost a second your lips were connected, his tongue exploring your mouth while your hands were constantly searching something to grab for support. He pulled away slightly, and leaved a trail of wet kisses on your neck. Patrick whispered in your ear, the words came out in a breathy way that was full of love and excitement at the same time. "I can make you forget everything, I’ll make sure you forget everything." He kissed you again.
"..I'll make you a happy woman."
514 notes · View notes
visionsofmagic · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
masterlist of:
⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆
↝ day 1: cillian murphy
⋆ you are playing in a movie as the enemy of cillian’s character who is protoganist. when director asks you two to act like there is a sexual tension between your characters, previous night’s memories follows into your mind. 
↝ day 2: chris evans
⋆  chris makes fun of your failed dates but when you finally find a good match as you say, events turn into something else than you plan.
↝ day 3: robert pattinson
⋆  robert and you go for the met gala and when he sees you, he just realizes you are the prettiest girl once again.
↝ day 4: christian bale
⋆ it is the third movie you and chris playing together in, and it is last time he can hide his love for you.
↝ day 5: tom hardy
↝ day 6: sebastian stan
↝ day 7: henry cavill
― explanation: so, with a motivation, coming from my own pinterest ^^, I wanted to create this one! I hope you will like it as well as I – because I love seeing you like them with likes, rbs and messages. thanks for reading! for the seven days of the week, I will publish seven works including these celebs you see below and I will add links to here or you can see them in my blog. enjoy!
Tumblr media
- rose 🍰
549 notes · View notes