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sl4sh3rsub · 3 months

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patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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hanasnx · 1 month

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hip to be square.

“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.

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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Simply Not There - Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

Title: Simply Not There

Patrick Bateman X Female Reader

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

WC: 3,088

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when Patrick knew that you were different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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fear-is-truth · 2 months

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“i can fix him”

ok welcome to the construction crew

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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

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Slashers with an airhead s/o

I like to joke that I'm a bit of an airhead which is kinda true at times. I'm playing this up a bit for fun.

Includes: Pyramid head, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Talk of murder and violence, Slashers kinda manipulating reader

Pyramid Head

When he first meets you he's going to think that you're too dumb to kill and too dumb to let you go. He's surprised that you haven't died yet to be honest.

You're going to have to go with him wherever he goes or stay in a safe place just in case something bad happens. He doesn't want you getting hurt.

He can't talk or use his voice at all but sometimes he wishes he could sigh in response to some of your questions or laugh at some of the things that you do like running into walls or failing to put something together.

He knows that you're smarter in certain areas more than others. He knows you're not totally helpless but when he had to rescue you from a room for the fifth time that week because you forgot how to unlock it he's going to be worried.

Patrick Bateman

Your airhead tendencies is part of the reason he's dating you. He was going to kill you at first but when you looked at him holding an ax and wearing a rain coat and you just smiled and asked "Is it raining outside?" He knew that he couldn't kill you.

Will constantly remind you of things you often forget. Will probably feel the need to help you with almost everything that you do. "Honey you're right handed, why are you using your left hand to cut the vegetables?" "Darling the tapes go in with the title facing us."

He's pretty happy that you're kind of an airhead because he doesn't have to worry about you figuring out he kills people. It's also easy to get your attention with pretty objects and to keep you occupied while he works.

Feels a little proud of your more smart moments. I feel like when you're able to have a basic conversation about stocks with him after he's explained them to you at least 30 times he's going to smile about it. "So I saw in the paper that stock prices are going up. That's a good thing right?" "It is honey. I'm glad you remembered.

Hannibal Lecter

Like Patrick he's going to take advantage of you being an airhead. You'll have questions about the meat he's serving but you'll just accept that it's some kind of cow organ or duck.

He'll laugh at your more airhead moments. Or at least smile. He'll walk in on your doing the L hand thing for left and right for the third time that day and he'll smile about it.

Will also use his money to keep you occupied. He'll use it as rewards in a way too. If you're excelling in learning a new skill or subject he'll treat you with something expensive.

If anyone is ever mean to you about how you're not the sharpest he's going to take care of them. Nobody is going to insult his s/o even if they are a little dumb.

Bo Sinclair

Bo isn't the smartest person either but it's a little comical to him how dumb you are. He's surprised you didn't crash your car on the way here. "Whens the last time you had your oil changed?" "You're supposed to change it?" He's going to quickly decide that he can't kill you.

Like mostly everyone on this list he like that you're a little dumb. He's surprised he even had to tell you that he kills people when you literally broke a finger off a figure and said "You guys but bones in your figures?"

Like Hannibal he will defend you against anyone who tries to make you feel bad for being on the dumber side. He knows you're an airhead but only he can mention it.

Will help you learn more basic knowledge so you can help around the house and stuff like that. He's probably almost had a stroke several times while trying to explain to you that you can't use cooking oil on cars, on different occasions.

#pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman x reader #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x you

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multific · 2 years

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Protective Father

Patrick Bateman x Reader

Summary: Patrick was always extremely protective of you, you thought that was too much, then you gave birth.

A/N: This is a little follow-up to my headcanons, requested by a lovely person.

“I’d kill anyone who even dares to look at the two of you in a bad way.” he confessed one night as the two of you were on the couch, his hand on your stomach. You read a book as he spoke to your baby.

“Aww! Patrick, thank you.” you fully knew he was serious but there was a spark in his eyes that you loved and so you kissed him.

When your son learned how to walk is when the real struggle began for Patrick.

He was on the heels of the baby all the time, even protecting him from flies. Before he could walk, Patrick would carry him everywhere. Barely letting him go for a moment.

When your son learned how to run is when the ultimate struggle began for Patrick.

You try to tell him that it was OK, that your son is going to be fine, nothing can hurt him but you also know your husband and you knew that he was not going to stop just because you asked him nicely once.

So just as your little boy started to grow so did your husband's worries and slowly but surely he became overprotective.

There were times even when you were at the park just taking a simple walk letting your baby run and play around, one time, he fell off of a swing which worried Patrick so incredibly that you have never seen him panic more than that day. But the icing on the cake was that your son wasn't even hurt, he just cried a little because he got scared but he was perfectly fine he even got ice cream after it.

But you will never forget the panic in Patrick when he ran as fast as he could to his son to help him up.

Even if little Richard wasn't hurt, Patrick couldn't let it go, he wanted to be 100% sure his son wasn't hurt and that he had everything he needed.

You often saw this as spoiling him, you didn't want your son to become a brat, but you understood where Patrick was coming from, the little boy was too precious.

And this is exactly what you expected from Patrick Bateman himself.

A father who spoils their child.

You had your baby on your hip, he was super interested in you cooking dinner, so he was your little helper.

Although mostly he just asked for juice or to taste something, with Richard being five, you wanted to show him the world as much as possible. And he seemed to be very interested in cooking and baking.

You put him on the counter when you needed to cut something. You taught him not to touch anything on the oven, you taught him it would hurt and he was an intelligent little man, so he never even tried.

"What are you two doing?" asked Patrick behind you.

"Dinner." you said as you stirred the pot, out of the corner of your eye you noticed Patrick pulling your son just a bit further away from the stove. You wanted to roll your eyes but you only smiled as you looked at them. "I'm almost ready, can you set the table please?"

And surely they did. You turned off the stove when you heard your son whine.

"Richard, let me do it, you might hurt yourself." you heard Patrick before you pocked your head out and saw your son with the forks in his tiny hand, holding on for dear life.

"I wanna." he said and you wanted to laugh, but you also wanted to see how Patrick will handle this.

He let out a long sigh. "You will hurt yourself, let Daddy do this."

"No." he was just as stubborn as your husband. Tiny knuckles turning white as he held the forks as if his life depended on them.

"Okay, then let's do it together?" Patrick ended up offering since he knew he wouldn't get through to Richard.

You smiled at the cute scene as Patrick lifted his son and helped him, trying to teach him a little about where and how to place utensils, but all little Richie saw was the cute Mickey Mouse utensil set you bought him.

You wanted to laugh, no matter how stubborn your husband was, your son was the same if not worse.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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crowwritesaway · 20 days

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Jealous Patrick Bateman x Female Reader Pt. 2

“Are you having fun?” One of your coworkers asked Patrick. Patrick scoffed. Is this what they call fun?

“My drink is almost done?” She complained in hopes he would buy her a drink. Patrick hummed, not showing any interest. “Where did you meet Y/N?” Patrick sighed, his eyes didn’t move from where you were sitting. “We went to school together.”

“Aww. Childhood friends. That’s so sweet.” She faked a smile. Patrick rolled his eyes. “Tell me. Has she always been like this?” Patrick glanced at her for a second before turning back to you. “Like what?” And people call me insane? Is she insulting my Y/N? She giggled, slapping him playfully on his shoulder. Patrick grimaced. Only Y/N can touch me.

“She’s quiet. Too quiet. It’s like she’s not all there.” Patrick scoffed. She just like them. Them as in the people who hurt you. You glanced over at Patrick. His posture looked confrontational. You sensed he was irritated. “Is this how you treat everyone or is my Y/N special?” He mockingly smiled at her. You excused yourself from your coworker and made your way to his side.

“I’m serious. She’s weird. It was a pity invite.” Patrick glared at her. Why is she still talking? Can see not see my face? He glanced around the club. Oh, she’s lucky it’s a busy night. “Y/N, she’s perfect the way she is. Maybe you’re too loud. I mean, tell me. Do you ever shut up? Or you just say whatever because between you and me, being normal is overrated.” Patrick grinned at her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She thought she could sway him to push aside Y/N.

She laughed. “Is everything okay?” You asked, standing in front of them. Patrick looked over at you with a soft expression. “I missed you.” He scooted out the booth seat. He hugged you. You hugged him back. “Did she upset you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. He wasn’t the only protective person in the friendship. It went both ways.

“My ears. She talked them off.” He pulled away. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.” You pursued your lips. You looked at your coworker. She looked away. You frowned. She probably thought badmouthing me would get her into his arms. Pathetic.

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows. “Look at me. Don’t strain your eyes by looking at that lovely coworker of yours.” He grinned. She was anything but lovely. Lovely my ass. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“The company. The music. Everything sucks here.” Patrick complained, looking into your eyes. You nodded. It was boring. You thought interacting with them would be exciting and inviting but it wasn’t. It felt like they used you to bring Patrick. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Come.” You went to say something. “They don’t deserve to hear anything from you.” Patrick cling to you. “Alright. Let’s go.” Patrick led you through the crowd. Your coworkers watched you leave. Their eyes filled with hate and envy.

You exited the club. The limo was there. Driver outside has opened the door. “Patrick.” You scolded. He shrugged his shoulders. “You never know.” He was prepared to drag you away from anyone. They were deserving nor worthy of your attention. Only him.

Now siting in the limo. “You should just quit.” You sighed. “Think about it. You could sleep in. You wouldn’t worry about the next project. Reading until god knows what hour at night. You could do whatever you want.” Patrick place his hand on your cheek. You both stared at each other. “Tempting.” Patrick glanced at your lips. “Don’t I know it.” He moved his hand down to your love handle. “I’ll take care of everything. It’ll be freeing.” For both you and I.

“Mmm. You make it sound so good.” Patrick licked his bottom lip. “Imagine if I did more.”

You flushed. “Alright. I’ll try this out.” Patrick smiled in victory. “That’s great. I look forward to seeing your messy hair.” He said, mischievously. “Fuck off.” Patrick gripped tighten on your waist. “No. It’s fuck me.” Your eyes flickered at his lips. Nope. He’s my bestfriend. “In your dreams.”

Patrick moved his hand away. “Yeah, I loved every second of it.” Your eyes went wide. “How much did you drink?” He was such a flirt. “Not much. You know how much I hate drinking when we’re out.” He needed to stay sharp to keep you safe.

“Of course. Part of this job change is them, right?” You asked, staring at the streets. You both faring forward. Patrick nodded. “Part of the reason.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “What..” Patrick interrupted you. “It’s not worth knowing. I’ll take care of it.”

He laid his hand over yours. “All that matters is your happiness. My best interest is yours. Your happiness is my happiness.” It’s us versus everyone else. No one else. Just us.

Stay around for more of Jealous Patrick Bateman x Female Reader

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Requests/Commissions are Open❤️

#patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #jealous Patrick Bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #tw obsessive behavior #tw possessive behavior #tw manipulation #slasher x y/n #x plus size reader

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slashv1xen · 1 month

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Patrick bateman head cannons 🫣?

ofc anonie <3

patrick bateman headcannons 💗

loves girls that can cook

he can cook as well, but he rather not

his type is classy, elegant women

if you reads he’ll stare at you while reading + admiring your features

he’ll buy you anything you want, books/jewellery/etc.

he CANNOT STAND girls women that aren’t educated (if you read classic literature he’ll marry you on the spot)

he doesn’t like when girls wear makeup (sorry), but he likes when your hands are manicured/are painted

his favourite colour whenever you paint your nails are dark red or white

he’s extremely blunt, and if he has a problem he’ll say it within a day

i’m sorry i didn’t write a lot i actually haven’t finished this movie so i don’t know the character that well. anyways i hope you enjoyed this it was fun to write <3

#slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #fanfiction #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman x you #american psycho #horror movies #headcannons

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Note

Plssss

Savage

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Patrick is so obsessed with an idea to breed you, and he's ready to knock you up even in his mother's house.

◥ CW: 18+/ NSFW │69 & cowgirl (sex positions), heavy daddy kink, Patrick being fluffy but degrading reader at the same time, a lot of creampie.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

◥ A/N: I'm sorry again for a lot of words. Thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it! 🥰

◥ LINKS: │Bingo Writing Challange Masterlist│ │Main Masterlist│

What could be better than a ‘family’ dinner in Patrick’s mum’s fancy house–you thought ironically, fidgeting in your place. Almost straight away, you felt Bateman’s warm palm around your shoulders as he hugged you tightly, petting you from time to time like he was trying to soothe you and that was really unusual for him.

“So, how was your trip to Miami?” Mrs. Bateman asked, finishing her meal with a glass of wine.

“Everything went fine,” Patrick murmured, pulling you closer and leaving a small peck on your cheek. “(Y/N) received a lot of unforgettable memories and that is the most important thing for me.”

“Yeah, that was really nice.” You said sheepishly as you smiled at him, laying your head on his broad shoulder.

Amused by you two, Mrs. Bateman called out for a maid to ask what had been planned for a desert. Speaking about Patrick–his most desirable desert was sitting right beside him, melting in his sweet embrace.

With a quiet gasp, Patrick turned to look at you, watching you fighting with a yawn. Hugging you closer, he stroked your cheekbone before whispering: “Are you tired, Peach? It's been a long day.” “No no, I’m okay,” you nuzzled against his large palm, feeling yourself heavenly. “Just… All dishes were so delicious and that made me a little drowsy.”

“Someone loves to eat, don't they?”

Frowning a bit, you pushed him aside with a light laughter “Well, it’s better than to always be grumpy cause you’re on the latest fad diet.” You punctuated the last words with a tease smirk and took a sip of the fresh orange juice.

As soon as Patrick was about to say something in reply, his mother clapped her hands with excitement, returning her attention to you again: “Patrick, dear. Maybe you will stay tonight? Tina’s cooking a cheesecake. She's so good at confectionery, you both need to try it!”

“You know I don’t eat any sweets…” imperceptibly, Patrick looked under the table and then, his tempting gaze fell on the black stockings you were wearing. “But maybe we will stay...” His suddenly low voice made your heart skip a beat.

“Ohh, I will be so happy if you stay!” You gave him a slightly confused glare, but you didn’t dare to speak, understanding that he definitely had something on his mind. Puzzled, you put a glass on the table to avoid any chance to break it when you heard Mrs. Bateman’s voice:

“I wanted to ask before, but I wasn't sure,” she grinned, gazing upon you one by one. “Are you planning to have kids? I have looked forward to being a grandmother for years now since Sean turned out to be a total jackass.”

“We’re working on it.” Patrick sneered in a stern voice, planting his palm on your hip.

His unexpected words almost made you choke on the air. Coughing, you grabbed his hand which was slowly sliding down between your legs, scorching your skin wherever he touched it.

“Good to know. By the way, have you already shown (Y/N) my house?”

“I just thought about it,” he crooned, smirking to himself as he felt your body shivering from his barely sensible touches. “C’mon, Peach. Let me quickly show it to you.”

After saying that, Patrick stood up and gave you a hand, his eyes were darting all around your pretty frame, leaving you completely embarrassed.

“I expect you to return when the cheesecake is done. You don’t want to offend an old woman, don’t you?”

“We will come back later, for sure,” you nodded to Patrick’s mum, placing your palm into his big one and letting him help you stand up. “Thank you so much for the dinner. Everything was so perfect!”

Flattered, she looked at Patrick, smiling as if she knew something and saying: “You’re always welcome, sweetheart.”

And then, you walked away, leaving a luxury living room behind.

“How many rooms does this house have, exactly?” You asked Patrick, turning around each time you saw a door.

“A lot, trust me.”

All the way down here, Patrick was holding your waist, petting your back from time to time. Usually whenever he acted sweet, you knew–he was up to something; something you might not even like but that was the last thing Bateman worried about.

Humming to himself, he halted near a dark wooden door, opening it slowly with a cocky smile. “Well, here we are.”

Bateman let you get inside first and then, a beautifully decorated room opened up before your eyes. Every little detail here was radiating an expensive, luxurious vibe: starting with the carpet and ending with the elegant curtains. Admired by the surrounding atmosphere, you turned around to see Patrick, standing near the entrance, watching you with pure delight.

“Is it your room?”

“Mmm, technically it was mine… a long time ago, but now it’s just a guest room,” he said in a soft voice, hiding his hands in his pockets. “You like it?” “Yes. It’s dazzling and… it reminds me of your apartment.” With a cute grin on your face, you walked further into the room, exploring all stuff you could see.

Your curiosity made him chuckle from amusement, especially when you began to ask so many questions about each thing you found.

“Wow… what a nice picture,” you took a photo, where two obviously rich boys were smiling at a camera. “It’s your brother I guess?” “Yeah, it’s Sean.”

“As I remember, you don’t really like him…”

“True. So, I doubt you would ever meet him.” He stated, strolling around the room behind your back.

You let out a quiet gasp, putting the photo in its place when you suddenly noticed an enormous collection of different musical records and cassettes. Biting your lip, you had to lean down to have a proper look at them and you didn’t notice the hem of your skirt pulling up, revealing the pretty curves of your butt. Without saying a word, Partick exhaled loudly through his nostrils as if he had been waiting for that specific moment.

“I can see something caught your attention…” He murmured, approaching you from behind.

“Just wanted to have a lo–,” you gasped abruptly, founding yourself trapped in his powerful arms, with his hard groin pressed against your ass. “P-Patrick…”

“What is it, Peach?” He whispered into your ear, teasing the delicate skin of your neck.

“You planned all of this, r-right? A-aww…” You moaned from the way he was squeezing your boobs, hugging you from behind.

“I just thought we shouldn’t waste any time,” pulling you closer, he licked your neck, biting it a bit after and forcing you to tremble in his grip. “Sugar… I can’t wait to see you pregnant.”

“Patrick… W-we, we are at your mum’s house…”

“You think I care?” Groaning softly, he hold you in his arms, lifting you up with ease as he moved towards a big bed in the room's corner.

Gently, he set you on the edge, petting the bare skin of your thighs which was not hidden by your black stockings. Patrick was exploring your body with no rush like it was your first intimate moment and he wanted to enjoy every second.

“When I saw these black stockings on you–I already knew how this day would end.” He purred, while his sneaky fingers finally reached your wet panties.

“D-daddy…” You flinched from the burning heat his body was radiating.

“Mmm, Peach,” he snuggled into your shivering frame, forcing you to lean on your back. “I won’t even comment on this. You’re always so wet for daddy, such a slutty little girl. Did you think about me fucking you during the dinner?”

Fidgeting in your place from embarrassment, you made a deep breath before replying: “I… Yes, I did...”

You heard him chucking in amusement when he unexpectedly pulled away from you, standing up and towering over you like a mountain.

“What an unbelievable confession.” Patrick mused, grasping your chin.

“Why don’t you just wait until we come home?” You rejoined, looking into his brown eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable… Since everyone here can hear us.”

“Whether you want to be loud or quiet–it’s entirely up to you,” he fondled your lower lip, slipping his thumb into your mouth. “The only thing you can’t affect–I want to fuck you right here and right now. Be a good girl–take off your panties and spread your legs for me.”

His raspy voice echoed in your ears like a thunderclap, it sent a million goosebumps down your spine, hypnotizing you like a spell.

Thrilled, you were watching each other undressing, losing your minds by the second. With shaking hands, you tried to focus on your clothes that have left but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Patrick’s naked torso; he was literally sculpted like a Greek God–you thought like that whenever you saw the perfect relief of his muscles.

When you finally did what he said, you looked at him from under your lashes, seeing nothing but a ravenous desire in his savage gaze. Breathing heavily, Patrick swallowed hard with how you opened up for him, revealing your blushing pussy; he didn’t even care about undoing his pants as his primal instincts overtook him completely.

Watching your reaction, he cupped your needy cunt and pressed a thumb to your little nub, causing a muffled wail to erupt from your half-open mouth.

“D-daddy… A-ahhh..” That was all you managed to pronounce as you threw your head back.

“(Y/N), baby… Tell me, what you want the most,” he was teasing your clit with light strokes. “My fingers or…”

“Mouth!” you desperately blurted out, “I w-want your mouth…Please, daddy…”

“Oh, is it so?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded, timidly closing your eyes as your felt his skilful digits moving up and down your folds.

“Your dirty talk has improved markedly,” he admitted, pinching your tight nipple. “It’s not perfect yet, but it’s really getting better.”

Gasping from the lack of air, you remembered you forgot to put off your stockings, but as soon as you touched them you heard his hoarse voice:

“Leave them like that, sugar,” carefully, he took your hand away, replacing it with his own to worship your hips here and there. “You have such pretty legs, but… by this time they should have been already rested on my shoulders or around my back.” After saying that, Patrick laid across the bed behind you, leaving you completely confused.

“Patrick?”

“C’mere, Peach,” he murmured as he beckoned you. “I’ve another idea how I can use my mouth.”

Hesitating a bit, you climbed onto the sheets beside him as you were trying to understand what was on his mind. “You want me to get on top of you?”

“I want you get on top of my face,” he responded, smirking with how your bit your lower lip. “Previous times, I didn’t have to persuade you…”

And he was so goddamn right-you thought before mounting him, but almost immediately, you had to change your position as he spanked your ass, forcing you to turn around, so you could reach his extremely hard cock. Leisurely, you unzipped his pants, petting his dick through his fancy boxers. Passionately, Patrick groaned in response, his solid body tensed under your touch. And then, when you sensed a light pressure on your lower back–you knew exactly what he wanted. With one simple motion, you got rid of the last obstacle to his hot flesh, which was longing for your attention.

“Baby… m-mhm,” he let out a muffled moan as you were giving him a hand job he needed. “Do ya want me to start first?”

Turning around to face him, you murmured: “Yes, daddy… Please, taste me…” Your innocent gaze was like a red button for him, which was turning on a full insane mode.

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his ankles, feeling a tingling sensation in your lower belly. Smugly, Patrick smirked to himself, revelling in all your high-pitched wails as his hands were tightly wrapped around your hips, pulling your pussy closer to his greedy mouth.

“A-aww, P-Patrick…” You whimpered before you gave his stony cock one long lick, starting with his balls and ending with the tip.

Feeling his lips tensed around your little tip, you made a deep breath and let him push into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could. Bobbing your head up and down, you were about to choke on his beefy shaft with how his tongue was toying your soaked pussy, but you didn’t stop–even if you couldn’t win in this “fight” you wouldn’t give up that easily.

“Such a cock-addicted slut, f-fuck…” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart… I’m gonna reward you with my seed, gonna pump your tight hole so-fucking-full.”

Almost breathlessly, you moaned around his dick, drooling so badly and massaging his heavy sac as you were painfully close to your high; his hot tongue was relentlessly fucking your dripping cunt, while his brawny arms were holding you still, not allowing you to move even an inch.

“D-daddy, mm-hmm, I’m s-so close…A-aah...” you cried out, almost sprawling against his legs, feeling a coil in your lower belly snapped with a vivid sensation. “A-aww, o-ohhh my Godddd… ”

Shaking erratically, you let him send you almost to the moon from the way his experienced mouth was eating you out, drinking in every drop of your sweet juices. With a slurping sound, Patrick couldn't get enough of your taste, licking and sucking your tender flesh, squashing your ass to keep you close as he was tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

Only after your body stopped trembling, he allowed you to break away from his hot mouth, petting your hips and leaving small pecks on them.

“You lasted even longer than usually, Peach,” he mocked, giving your buttocks a few slaps. “Maybe you even are bold enough to ride daddy’s cock?”

Gasping for air, you turned around to face him, locking your hazy eyes with his dark ones and it seemed like he could easily rail you just only with his fucking gaze. Smirking as he watched you getting yourself on top of him, he spread his knees to make you more comfortable and then; you had to bite your lips almost till the blood from the delightful sensation of being so full.

“D-daddy… I want you to fill me and make my belly swell with your child.” You whimpered as you started to bounce on his thick cock.

Patrick growled in a low voice, resting his hands on your hips and forcing to you move faster. “You want daddy to make you a mommy?”

“Y-yes! P-please… A-aww… You’re so big, so… F-fucking big…”

“A-aaah…. I thought you didn’t know any crude words,” he grunted, cupping your breasts which were jumping up and down whenever you moved. “F-fuck… You should see yourself, such a pathetic little whore… Begging daddy to breed her...”

Tilting your head back, you could feel a fucking ocean of mixed liquids where your bodies where connected, it was even flowing down his pubis and making it so wet. Although, it was so hard for you to ride him because of his huge size; you were trying your best to take him as good as you could cause you knew–you would be definitely praised for it later.

When you felt his chest rising and falling so rapidly beneath your hands, you leaned down to his face, latching your lips on his soft ones and moaning through the kiss as he suddenly began to pound into you harder; his solid hips were meeting yours with nasty sloppy sounds.

“B-baby… Baby girl,” panting, he palmed your cheek, understanding that you were getting tired. “Let daddy take care of you…”

Without waiting for your answer, Patrick pulled you closer to press you against his firm torso, gripping you under the elbow for a better control and ramming into you in a merciless pace.

“A–aww, P-Patrick…” You sobbed into his ear, feeling nothing but a total delight from the intense friction your bodies were making.

“I… I'm gonna put my seed where it belongs…” with a loud groan, he sank his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck, causing a pitiful whine to escape your swollen lips. “C’mon, Peach… Cum for me… Cum for your daddy!”

Trembling, you were desperately trying to find his lips in this mess of your slightly wet hair, when Patrick suddenly gripped your neck, squeezing it and rocking into you with ragged deep thrusts. This insane mixture of sensations left you no chance but to fall over the edge, your inner walls spasmed around his throbbing cock so tightly–your vision turned white, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Daddyyyyyy…”

“Peach… F-fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me…”

Slamming into you with his last strength, Patrick yanked you closer to press your forehead against his and then, with a feral growl, he shot his warm seed inside your pulsating womb, pumping you so hard until his cum flowed down your thighs. Shivering, you hugged him tighter, nuzzling against his neck and spreading your legs wider as your pussy was so greedy for every drop of his fertile cream.

It felt delicious, being ruined by him and claimed.

Totally exhausted, you were about to get off of him when you heard his grumpy voice: “My dear, where are you going?” he pinched your ass, making you flinch. “Did you forget what the doctor said?”

“About us having a regular sex?” You rejoined tiredly.

“No, baby,” Patrick laughed, taking your tresses away to look into your eyes. “We need to lie like this for some time, but that thing’s also very important.”

Gasping, you rolled your eyes from his didactic tone, staying still cause you didn’t want to argue with him. “As you say, daddy.”

Patrick knew you were teasing him, but he didn’t react, as he decided to leave it for later. “We have to go downstairs and try this fucking cheesecake, cause my mum won’t leave us alone,” he scowled, rolling both of you on the side. “And… I think we need to cancel all our plans for tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“We have an entire night ahead,” he smirked, tracing his thumb against your lower lip. “I doubt you could move after it.”

A muffled whine of protect fell from your lips before he caught your mouth, covering your little body with his powerful one and damn–he was still unbelievable hard inside you.

“P-Patrick?”

“Shhh, little one. I got you…”

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slasher smut

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sluttyy4you3 · 1 year

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#bo sinclair #slashers #horror #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #patrick bateman #brahms heelshire #x y/n #hannibal

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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Question My Fellow Tumblrators!

I got some ideas, but I wanna see what you guys think?

Requests will open back up on June 1st.

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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

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hi!! ok so i saw ur one shots on slashers dating an airhead, but i LOVED patrick’s one shot. so i wanted to ask if you could make a little fic on that one shot?

I'd love to write this for you. What I wrote before is called head cannons and what I'm writing now is called a one shot btw. I totally understand getting them mixed up though. I hope you enjoy!

They're stupid but...I kind of like that: Patrick Bateman x airhead reader

Warnings: Attempted murder, Patrick has a soft spot for you

Patrick invited you over to his apartment. You work with him at the office. You're an assistant for one of his coworkers and he's heard other men in the office talk about how dumb you are but he's never really believed that you could be that dumb. Patrick is in the bathroom now, putting on his clear rain coat. You're waiting in the living room on the couch, news paper spread all over the ground.

When Patrick re enters the living room he notices you holding up one of the newspapers. 'Odd' He thinks to himself. Walking over to the kitchen where the ax lays he notices you really reading the news paper.

"Y/n?" He asks. You lower the paper and look at him. Realization washes over his face. He assumes you just saw the ax and the rain coat but you set the paper back on the ground.

"I'm so sorry you probably had those there for a reason. I didn't mean to mess it up." He stares at you blankly trying to determine if you're just playing dumb or if you really are that dumb.

"No that's fine. I was just wondering what you were doing." You nod and look him up and down.

"Is it raining outside? If it is you don't have to walk me out to my cab I can do it myself." You say standing up.

"No, no. Just sit there for a little while alright?" You nod with a smile still on your face. Patrick ducks back into the kitchen and runs a hand over his face. 'How can they be so clueless?' He thinks to himself, 'I mean they deal with stocks and important finance all day. They're stupid, obviously...but I kind of like that.' He spends a few more moments in the kitchen before he walks back out to the living room. Now not wearing the clear rain coat, "Y/n can I ask you something?" He asks moving to sit next to you on the couch.

"Of course Mr. Bateman." He smiles a polite but empty smile.

"Please, call me Patrick. But I was wondering if you know how stocks are going at the moment." You pause for a moment before you bite your lip then smile.

"This is going to sound really bad. But I don't know a thing about stocks. I feel so guilty all the time because I'm working around them so much but I just don't know a thing about them." His smile grows more sincere as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"I don't think that's a bad thing at all Y/n." He says.

#patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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lorimnnn · 1 year

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pt 1 of i wish i had a fictional boyfriend (slasher edition)

man, sometimes i hate writing these fanfics--- only because i become psychotically obsessive with the idea of this total devotion, then realise i’ll never truly have it. obviously, that’s a good thing (probably). having a slasher boyfriend would not be very beneficial in the long run (probably).

but i’m just thinking about how even these killers would treat us better than any real, available human being on this earth. how they’re already ten times more interesting than fuckin brad with his vape and trackies, choosing which hoe he’ll ghost this time or if he’s ready for fresh meat this week. or not even. just every other person we decide we’re into for no good reason, aware that we could do better but won’t risk being single for like, ever.

like, these slashers--- when they obsess over something, it’s singular. it’s unparalleled. imagine that in a romantic context. everything about you is evangelised in their eyes, even your flaws. everything you hate about yourself or unsure about is only something that makes you more perfect in their eyes. you could do anything. I don’t know, you could even fart. ghostface would giggle but he wouldn’t get disgusted by it. y’all could grow out your body hair as much asyou wanted, if that’s what you wanted that is, and they wouldn’t care, because it’s just as valid as the hair that grows on your head, which varies in length depending on preference or convenience. and then there’s michael. all he’s ever gonna do is stand there like an npc, but even he’s more interesting that your local Brad. he cares. he would get you gifts and do things for you because he likes to and it’s the one way he knows to make you happy, and these Brads could know a hundred ways to make you happy and they won’t do it. Or Jason Voorhees. Tell me he wouldn’t pick flowers with you and go on a picnic. Tell me you couldn’t tell him everything, especially if you’re bothered about something and all you need is a safe place to cry. he would give that to you. so would bubba. and i’ll even bring fucking Patrick Bateman into this, because even if it’s straight up insane, his narcissism would not stop him from spoiling you as much as he could and letting you talk yourself up. he’d probably encourage you to love yourself and be just as self-centred.

I wish I had someone who could lay out their imperfections so openly, so honestly, and not let me just... find out about them. like, let me love you as a whole. i know they would love us as a whole. or obsess over us. i don’t know.

man, i’m so lonely. i just want a hot slasher boyfriend, guys. tell me that’s not what we’re all here for ahhh

p.s. no hate if your name is brad or you vape or wear trackies/sweatsuit, but i will shit on you if you give the vibe that usual combo 😭

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slashers x you #slashers x y/n #ghostface #michael myers #jason voorhees #patrick bateman

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slasherscrybaby · 2 years

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Y/n recording a video and sending it to their daddy slashers

#pyramid head x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #billy lenz x reader #slashers x reader #michael myers x reader #asa emory x reader #brahms x reader #slashers x y/n #billy loomis x reader #jason vorhees x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #patrick bateman x reader #stu matcher x reader #otis b driftwood x reader

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gothicfrogsmiley · 1 year

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slasher hell: maybe just a bit obsessed?

ghost face:

you we're walking home from school, you still couldn't get it through your head

"a murder? in my town? it just cant be possible"

you shook your head to get rid of the thought, stepping inside your house and taking your shoes off you walked to your room and plopped down onto your bed, you snuggled up in the blankets and took out your phone to check the news, when you saw the killer himself, Ghostface.

your face got red. this couldn't be the man, right? something about the mysterious vibe Ghostface gave off made you get butterflies, you zoomed in on the picture to just look at him, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him, bad boy thing? they say that people like bad boys, and that's all this is, a small little weird crush on a bad boy.

you put your phone down and rolled over to stare at the blank wall next to your bed, you tried to think of anything else besides Ghostface. homework, your job, your cat, anything. but your mind always went back to him, all you could think about was him

"What does his face look like? what does his body look like? is he strong? what's his favorite food?" you wanted, no. needed, to know more about him, as the days passed your obsession for him grew, you needed to see him now, at least for a second. even if he kills you you need him, now.

you were walking home from work, it was dark and you were tired, when you got home you took your shoes off and passed out on the couch, when you woke up you heard something, the phone was ringing, this was a sign Ghostface was coming after you, right? you jumped up, running to your phone and answering it

"Hello? hello? who is it?" it was a spam call, you slammed your phone down when you heard footsteps behind you. you turned around.

it was him, Ghostface..

your face flushed, and you stood there, shocked. Ghostface looming over you, he held up his knife. you grabbed his arm and kissed his hand, Ghostface was shocked and taken aback, you kissed up his arm, going to take off his mask, but when you grabbed it you felt his knife plunge into your side, you gasped as you fell onto him, you didn't care, you were finally close to him, the man you were obsessed with all these weeks, day, hours, minutes, second. you ripped off his mask, kissing him as Ghostface stabbed you once again, he took his camera out and took a picture of both of you, and he pushed you off of him. you groaned, your vision was blurry, you reached out to touch his face, but before you could your eyes closed, your arm falling to your side.

well, at least you got that kiss.

Patrick batmen:

you fixed your skirt walking into his office, you saw Patrick on the phone, and you stared at him before he hung up the phone and looked up at you

"yes. (Y/N) ?" you felt butterflies in your stomach every time Patrick said your name, you looked him up and down, he raised an eyebrow, clearly getting annoyed that you haven't said anything yet

"well (Y/N)? I don't have all day!" he folded his hands, placing them on the desk "I'm a very busy man and I don't like you wasting my time." he glared at you, almost looking through you.

you snapped out of it, coughing and finally speaking

"i was maybe wondering if you would-"

he cut you off

"(Y/N) are you asking me on a date? because I'd love one, drinks and dinner?"

you nodded, Patrick smiled and nodded

"great! dinner and drinks at 8?"

"oh I'm not-"

"8 it is! meet you there!"

you had no choice, you just had to agree with what he said, but you didn't mind at all, you loved when he bossed you around.

you met Patrick at the restaurant, you were late so you hurried to your table and sat across from Patrick, he was mad

"(Y/N), remember when I said NOT to waste my time?" he smiled through his anger, you giggled a bit, fixing your skirt

"I'm sorry I just-"

he cut you off once again

"listen." he pointed to the menu

"you are going to have seared duck with salad as the side, no dressing. and the champagne, only one glass." you nodded, you felt so flustered when he talked to you like that, you just wanted to kiss him right here right now, but you knew that wasn't a good choice.

later he took you to his apartment. you sat on the couch, looking around a bit, you couldn't believe you were actually in his apartment. you watched Patrick go to his kitchen, grabbing wine from his cabinet. walking over and placing two wine glasses on the coffee table, pouring wine into both of the glasses, the smell of the wine hit you, it smelled good, amazing for something you've never really enjoyed, you took your hair down to be more comfortable, Patrick looked down at you, pointing

"keep your hair up, you look bad with it down."

you quickly nodded, putting your hair back up, folding your hands in your lap

"you know, that's a very expensive wine you're drinking, a Leroy Domaine d'Auvenay Auxey-Duresses, Cote de Beaune from France, aged for up to 18 months, the max selling price being 10,447 dollars, you're a very lucky girl right now (Y/N), do you realize that?"

oh, you definitely realized that. you were lucky to even be working for Patrick, let alone be drinking in his apartment.

hours later you felt hazy, Patrick was on top of you, holding an axe up. you couldn't say anything, you were too weak, but you could feel your cheeks flush with the way Patrick was looking at you, did he really want to do this? either way, it didn't matter, you felt the axe dive into your stomach, over and over until you were dead, Patrick stood over your bleeding dead body, hacking at it more and more before finally dropping the axe.

good thing he was wearing a rain coat.

#ghostface #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x female reader #horror fanfiction #patrick bateman #scream 1996 #horrorfan #horror movies #x y/n #female reader #horrorcommunity #horror movie #cw: gore

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