patrick bateman probably writes poems about pomegranates
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anon i am SO sorry but who is tallest red? 😭😭 maybe i’m entering my unc phase but i’m so clueless rn
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i wouldn’t want to invade his privacy! maybe i could ask him? that’s better than just sneaking in to look at them, no? but i’ll be sure to tell you all about them.
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🔒- “i don’t really think about it all that often, but my sister is one of my favourite people i suppose. i am so grateful for her, she practically raised me, my father wasn’t around, and my mom was so busy, so my sister was everything to me, i don’t know where i’d be without her… patrick’s important to me too, without him i wouldn’t have a job! so that must cout for something, no?”
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Dumbasses. Also bald Bateman is so fucking funny to me, he’s going to not go back to work for a while or wear a wig.
Art by dad
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patred headcanon #1: one of the only ways they show affection is through biting or fighting each other. this has resulted in getting the cops called on them a few times by neighbors thinking that they’re in a dv situation
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Finally posted the third chapter after a hiatus for my patjohan fanfic. More Patjohan and crackships to come!
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Reoccurence at Yale Club (3856 words) by SaiBesitos [AO3]
Chapters:
¾
Fandom:
Monster - Urasawa Naoki (Anime & Manga), American Psycho (2000)
Rating:
Explicit
Warnings:
Rape/Non-Con
Relationships:
Patrick Bateman/Johan Liebert
Characters:
Johan Liebert, Patrick Bateman, David Van Patten, Craig McDermott
Additional Tags:
Serial Killers, Stalking, Forced Orgasm, Gun Kink, Bathroom Sex, Masturbation in Bathroom, Restaurants, power bottom Johan Liebert, Canon-Typical Patrick Bateman, Gay and Homophobic Patrick Bateman, Johan Liebert is His Own Warning, Mindfuck, Patrick is entranced by Johan’s gaping hole
Summary:
The notorious Monster has been observing the yuppie killer who’s never been caught and intrigued by his unremarkable presence. A man in a suit who’s easily dismissed and shrugged off for fitting into the American dream. Johan wanting nothing more than consume and take his name.
Based on a crackship I’ve had in mind for awhile. An exploration of how I’d imagine both of my favorite characters interacting.
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Sorry i did not get to this earlier🥹 but here it is!
🧸 Do they still have a childhood comfort object? Where is it now?
Okay. So it would be a funny image to have patrick bateman be such a no emotion machine like person that has no attachment to anyone or anything, have a childhood item like a teddy bear or like a stuffed animal..
But, if I am being serious, I feel as if he would have nothing.
There may be one thing though…
And that is a diary. Because he does not vocalize his emotions at ALL. Or, well at all. It could be the one thing that kept him sane from such a fake world.
I believe that said diary, may be back all the way home to his parents, somewhere where only he can find it.
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I don’t know why you’re asking me.
‘Is this a test? Detective Donald Kimball came into my office yet again just a few hours ago. Maybe he sent someone.
Shit.’
I don’t know how to do that. I think you’re asking the wrong person.
[[MORE]]//ooc: thank u!! I hope u are doing well too. ^_^
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evelyn williams? i haven’t met her, actually- i’ve only spoken to her over the phone a few times, she seems nice, high energy.
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they’d be absolutely horrible for each other and still manage to be together for years on end
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Reoccurrence at Yale Club WIP (NSFW)
Content warning: chloroform, dubious intimacy, forced taming, restraints, ass eating, gunplay
The cool texture of the barrel and the front site’s curved fin had Patrick grunting between a moan and whimper. It wasn’t enough. He needed it inside. His hand instinctively reached for it until Johan seized it. Slowly dragging it against the muscular tan thighs between him, earning a sharp gasp.
“M-mngh,” the yuppie whines, his head falling back. Gun tracing becomes small circles and transitions to long drags as a thumb soothes the aching cock’s head.
“Still this needy, are you?” Johan croons, leaning closer to Patrick, his breath tickling his nape.
“You humans are never satisfied with anything, not with the silver spoon you were fed, the hookers you’ve murdered, the men who pitifully address you as their own. You’re pitiful Patrick,” Johan emphasizes this with a harsh squeeze to his cock.
“Like I’d take it personally from a f-faggot with a gun-” Patrick squirming uncomfortably and teeth gritted uncomfortably to nails pressing down his sensitive cock.
“Ack! G…Get it off! Get it off! I SAID GET IT THE FUCK OFF!” Patrick lashes out. His form aggressively attempts to buck the nails off him. Johan straddled him akin to an angered bull and finally having enough pressed a chloroformed rag against his mouth. Patrick’s shoulders spasming and reluctantly forfeiting his own will.
“Shh, that’s it. Mhm, are your eyes getting heavy? There’s no need to fret this won’t have you losing consciousness so quickly Mister Bateman.” Johan set the gun aside and took off Patrick’s tie as a makeshift restraint. His body now behind Patrick while he kept his palm still firmly pressed against his face. A muffled protest drowned after another while those olive-green eyes fluttered like a trapped butterfly. Futile.
Once his hands were firmly tied and his body relaxed and cock still throbbing and hardened Johan crawls on top of him. Soft skin and curves open to invitation but to the bearer of a muddled mind. Johan dutifully unlatches his trousers and shimmies off his boxers, making sure it’s plopped while still grinding against him. A weak grunt from Patrick who can only watch with clouded eyes.
“I’ve heard you’re rather skilled with your tongue. Eating someone out? Is that what such obscenity is called? I doubt you’ll have trouble with another sex organ such as mine, besides you’ve been eaten out too, yes?”
Johan slowly drags it out, his ass lowering down like a stratus cloud before a light rain. Patrick’s nose pressed against soft and plump skin as his mouth began to worship it like an incubus.
